#but if she had to choose between marriage and getting her vengeance

[frostise]

7 + 16

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄   ┇   accepting ♡

7. Would your muse ever get married?

omfg this is a hard question! uhm...i think louise has thought about marriage at random times of the day but it's not a top priority right now because prioritizing her vengeance against firestorm will always be her ultimate life's goal (as depressing as that realisation is). but of course, louise has other important things to do in her spare time then try to kill him because there are a bunch of his other villains trying to end his career too. mostly her life involves T.A.B since she works for them on a daily basis until death arrives at her doorstep.

however, i do imagine it starts to get pretty lonely entering her various penthouses with nobody to greet her and it would explain why she's super close to criminals or monsters she befriended over the years and hangs out with them frequently just to fill the emptiness she's been feeling ever since crystal's death. louise's pride wouldn't admit it but she's actually lonely in the love life department because of her abandonment issues plays up in most of the relationships she's been in the past. there's never a moment where she thinks a long-term relationship will result in a marriage. it has always been casual relationships frost was familiar with over the years.

so personally speaking—i don't think she's ready for marriage. at least not until firestorm is eliminated. the concept of marriage does sound rather enticing, serene, a happily ever after if you will. well...that's if she was still young and carefree. i do think there's a alternative version of louise who never lost crystal. she would've actually considered marrying her on the spot but unfortunately crystal never felt the same way about her, so louise would never marry anyone who never really saw how monstrous she can get and accepted that nature with open arms.

in other verses where firestorm is dead, she will stop obsessing over him and refocus on working on her second goal which is to be happy even if it's without crystal and her own family. this will eventually lead to marriage at some point with someone she deems worthy of her time and trust. my current version of kf is just a conflicted mess of emotions and riddled with major abandoned, trust and commitment issues she's still trying to resolve even though it's a slow, arduous process to cope with. this doesn't mean she'll cheat! she just has doubts and paranoia about her partner leaving the marriage if they show a single hint of rejection.

16. Does your muse believe in soulmates?

that actually reminds me of her canon quote: "in a world where aliens can fly and regular men stand up to the gods. what are the rules of physics? is it now so tough to imagine them bending...to imagine them breaking?"

from louise's perspective, anything is possible in a world full of gods, monsters, magical gateways and metahumans cosplaying as hero/villain amongst the multiverse. she would believe there are soulmates out there somewhere in the world but she personally never experienced 'meeting the one' and even if it was a real thing? louise would rebel against fate. she would prefer to meet someone on her own accord, not follow a red string blindly just because the all mighty 'god' of whatever chose to seal their fates. plus, gaining 'true love' for a mere stranger is very unsettling as you can imagine lmfao. louise would want to actually know the person first! she hates it when people rush a relationship!

[englishstrawbie]

43 and 67 for Marina please :)

Thank you for the prompts! This one is for prompt 67, I hope you like it. I seem to be falling into a pattern of writing domestic!Marina, please send help. 😜

>>>>>>>>>>

They fall into a new routine when they move into their house.

Most of it centres around Liam, of course. Six o’clock rolls around and they bathe him, a competition to see who can make him giggle more as they splash the water around him. Once he is wrapped up in his towel, they share the cuddles as the other reads him a bedtime story, before dressing him in one of his many onesies and settling him in his crib.

Their evenings are spent tidying and doing laundry and making lists – what some people would find mundane, but fills Maya with happiness that she gets to do this, when she so nearly lost it all. On the nights when there are no chores to do, they pour over the plans drawn up by their architect, choosing what kind of open plan kitchen-diner they want, whether the walls should be tiled or painted, and what kind of colour scheme they want.

Sleep is still interrupted by Liam’s night-time feed for now, although Carina is convinced he will soon start to ween himself off them. Maya is the first out of bed on the nights she is home, knowing that Carina has to carry the burden alone during her night shifts.

Liam never wakes early, a good sleeper like his mamma, and Maya doesn’t rush out of the door for an early morning run any more, knowing that the quiet hour between 6.00am and 7.00am is typically reserved for just the two of them, before Liam’s whimpers drag them out of bed.

Their mornings feel more frantic these days. Their house, nestled within a small family-orientated community on east side of Seattle, is a fifteen minute commute into the city on a good day, usually longer – not taking into account the diversion they do when Liam is spending the day with Peggy and Dayna.

Their favourite mornings are the days when their work patterns align and neither one of them has to work. They bring Liam into bed with them, watching as their comforter becomes a playground for his toys and books and music.

On days like today, when Carina is the only one of them heading to work, Maya watches from the bed as Carina sits at her new vanity unit to fix her hair and apply her make-up, with Liam on her lap as she soaks up his cuddles before she has to leave. Maya listens as Carina chats away to him in Italian, determined that he will learn her native language as he grows up. She smiles as Liam looks up at his mamma with adoration, enraptured by her voice, his little hands grasping her dark brown hair. She can’t blame him, Maya is just as enamoured by her wife.

“Amelia said she would babysit on Friday night,” Carina says, interrupting her thoughts. “I thought we could try out the new Korean place by the water, what do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,” Maya says with a smile. “Do you think she’d want to have Liam overnight too?”

A wiggle of her eyebrows tells Carina what she is thinking and she watches as Carina’s chest rumbles with laughter, eliciting a giggle from Liam too.

“Maybe next time.”

Maya intends to hold her to that. A ping from the bedside table distracts her and she reaches for her phone, pulling up a message from Andy. Her heart sinks when she reads it. The wildfires that they thought were receding have grown stronger, making their way towards Seattle with vengeance and Maya is pretty sure it will only be a couple of days before 19 is called out to assist in the efforts to contain it.

She thinks back to the wildfires in Los Angeles that they fought a few years ago. It was a time she doesn’t think of often these days: when Sullivan was captain and the team was grieving the loss of Ripley; when Andy had only just forgiven her for hooking up with Jack and Travis was in a police cell for getting into a fight at Joe’s.

When Pruitt was alive. And Dean. And Ryan.  

Before Carina, when talk of marriage and babies would have made Maya scoff and laugh, brushing it off as something that other people did.

Before she came to terms with the traumas of her past, when she believed in her father’s lesson to embrace the pain and found comfort in the clouds.

Before her priorities shifted and she realised what was truly important to her.

It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories remain vivid. She remembers the way her skin felt sticky and hot, and how her lungs filled with smoke, and the panic she felt when Andy and Sullivan were lost outside as the flames took over the house they were seeking shelter in. It was a time when a hero’s death didn’t scare her the way it does now, the fear of leaving Carina and Liam and the possibility of a baby growing in her wife’s belly constantly on her mind.

She shakes it off, refusing to let it plague her.

“I was going to pick up tickets for the zoo for next weekend,” she says instead. “I thought Liam might like to see the lions and tigers, since he loves watching next door’s cat so much.”

They both know he’s too young for the experience but they have a pact to make as many happy memories as possible, to fill photobooks to show him when he is older.

Carina smiles. “I love that idea.”

Maya swings her legs out of bed and pads across the room, pulling out some clean clothes from the dresser.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower before you head out.”

As she passes them, she runs her finger across Liam’s cheek, grinning when he reaches out to wrap his tiny fingers around it. She lets him hold it as she dips her head and draws Carina into a kiss, pressing her lips hard against Carina’s mouth, as if trying to leave an imprint.

“I thought I’d have another go at making lasagna for dinner,” she says when she pulls back.

“Hmm, should I tell Teddy that I’ll be sick tomorrow?” Carina teases.

Maya pokes her shoulder playfully as she pretends to be offended. “Ha ha.”

She is half way into the bathroom when Carina calls out her name, her question making Maya pause in the doorway.

“Maya? Every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work, why was it my lips today?”

Carina is looking at her with such softness that Maya feels her stomach flip. She doesn’t want to tell her about the wildfires, not yet; doesn’t want to burst this bubble they are living in. She gives a little shrug instead.

“Because I wanted to. Because your lips are my favourite thing to kiss.”

She looks at the small boy in Carina’s arms.

“Sorry Liam.”

He doesn’t look bothered, more interested in fitting his small fist into his mouth. When she looks up, Carina is holding out her free hand, encouraging Maya closer.

“Then you should come back and kiss them again.”

Maya’s smile widens and she complies willingly, dropping her clothes on the bed before accepting Carina’s outstretched hand, letting herself be pulled back into the cocoon of her family. She cups Carina’s face and kisses her again, feeling the soft moan that escapes from her wife as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip – another happy memory etched in her mind.

[ggomos-maribat]

Scars like a Red Thread

Marinette Dupain-Cheng hates Damian Wayne with a passion. Firstly because of their shared past, and secondly, because of the scars they had on their hands: a tiny pale line on the skin between their ring and pinky fingers. If one of them dies, the other's scar bleeds and burns as a symbol of their marriage bond. One day, Ladybug dies for the first time at the hands of an akuma.

Heart Eyes

Robin was told time and again that dating fellow heroes was a messy affair, especially if secret identities were still at stake. He didn't believe it until he ended his one-year relationship with Ladybug. After taking some time to heal, Damian becomes enamored with a new girl: a beautiful fashion designer named Marinette.

R for Revenge (DP X MLB)

An encounter with cultists turns Marinette into the first new halfa in decades. With permission from her new guardian, the Ghost King himself, she goes back to Paris to enact her vengeance.

Guardian's Occult

A joint investigation by Marinette and Constantine leads to the transformation of the young guardian into . . . a toddler guardian?! While he tries to find a way to reverse it, Constantine entrusts her to a serial adopter of black-haired blue-eyed children.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead

After a recent celebrity scandal, the Wayne family gets tangled up in a cold case from two years ago: the death of a girl from Paris

Anthanassa

The Justice League makes it their mission to intercept a new villainess who appeared in Paris.

Two Immortals (DP x DC x MLB)

See this post

Superbaby

One night fling leads to Marinette having a baby with Kryptonian blood.

[preet-01]

h please! any ship is good

H — Game of Thrones ; so I loosely based it on the pre-GoT lead up to Robert’s Rebellion era of asoiaf

CW: mpreg, miscarriages, death

“The Prince of Dorne? Or a Prince of Dorne?” Sebastian asks after his father tells him that he would be betrothed to a scion of the southernmost kingdom.

“Prince Daniel,” his mother clarifies. Prince Daniel was a Prince of Dorne, as was the young Prince Oscar, but Prince Mark was the Prince of Dorne. “He is a beauty, I am told,” she adds.

There was nothing else to it. The Dragon Prince would marry a Dornish Prince, once more tying the once rivals together by the bounds of marriage.

Sebastian had always known that his father would choose his match. If not the Dornish Prince, it would have been one of the Lannisters. While Sebastian had never met Prince Daniel, he had met the Lannisters. And any match was better than a Lannister.

They marry seven moons later.

Prince Daniel is a beauty, yes, but he is also weak. Not in his demeanor, no, he can go toe to toe with Sebastian, but in his health.

A sickly babe he had been, a handmaiden from Dorne reveals when her prince suffers through a flu for the third time since he came to King’s Landing. It is much colder in the capital than it was in Dorne.

“You live in the north, my love, my health is taking time to adjust to the cold,” Daniel explains to him.

“The North is many leagues away, sweetness,” Sebastian retorts, but Daniel just laughs at him in that way of his.

“You forget, I am from Dorne. Everything is the North to me and my people,” Daniel states and there is no more to it because he is right. Everything is the north when one comes from the southernmost kingdom.

Somewhere between Daniel’s sickness he falls pregnant with their first. A girl as sweet and tanned as her Dornish mother. She is the apple of her parents’ eyes, but unfortunately for her and Daniel it doesn’t last long.

Targaryens have a way about themselves. Coins and madness and prophecies and a love for dragons.

The three headed dragon is their sigil and Sebastian has it stuck in his mind that there must be three dragons borne from his line.

Their sweet daughter the first and their son the second. Visenya and Aegon reborn, as Sebastian says. But they must also have their Rhaenys, the third head of the dragon.

The Dornish Prince’s screams fill the Red Keep as he gives birth to another dead babe. “Another birth may kill him,” the maester warns. Daniel had already been sickly and of a delicate nature, the births had only worsened everything.

However, Sebastian had seen the prophecies and knew a third head was needed. He turns his attention to a son of the North’s warden. Pale skin and blue eyes, so unlike the tanned skin and brown eyes of Sebastian’s beloved Daniel. So unlike Daniel in everything, but just as beautiful.

“I have to do this,” Sebastian whispers to Daniel, who is recovering from another sickness.

“No you don’t,” Daniel retorts, eyes rimmed red as he refuses to look at Sebastian. “You do this and you’ll condemn us all to death,” he says.

“I am doing this to save us,” Sebastian argues, but his pleas are not heard.

He leaves Daniel in their bedchamber with a kiss pressed into his hair. “I love you, Daniel,” he says one last time.

The third head of the dragon must be born and he would not condemn Daniel to his death for that. In the end, Sebastian gets his third child, but the kingdoms go up in flames as war breaks out.

As one sweet Dornish Prince dies due to his husband’s actions, another vows to seek vengeance against Targaryens, Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks, and all who had been responsible for his sweet brother’s pain and eventual death.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 12 TYRION II (pages 161-172)

Tyrion visits Varys to arrange a date with Shae, then sics Bronn on a bard.

-

The eunuch was humming tunelessly to himself as he came through the door, dressed in flowing robes of peach-colored silk and smelling of lemons.

lemon(s) = 🥛

also I have just had the best mental image of Modern Day AU Varys as a Drag Queen. Probably runs a club with all the best gossip.

"I am full of surprises. Are you cross with me for abandoning you after the battle?" "It made me think of you as one of my family."

Ha! that is both a sick burn, and also really sad.

... damn. Maegor: 3 x Grand Maesters by Axe Aegon II: 1 x Grand Maester by Dragon Digestion

That "maesters wrecked the Targaryens actually" theory sounding more and more likely. Look at all this extra motive.

Bronn had turned up all he could on Ser mandon, but no doubt Varys knew a great deal more... should he choose to share it. "The man seems to have been quite friendless," Tyrion said carefully. "Sadly," said Varys, "oh, sadly. You might find some kin if you turned over enough stones back in the Vale, but here... Lord Arryn brought him to King's Landing and Robert gave him his white cloak, but neither loved him much, I fear. (...) Ser Barristan was once heard to say he had no friend but his sword and no life but duty... but you know, I do not think Selmy meant it altogether as praise.-"

OOOHHHH!!!! I just had a conspiracy theory.

Cersei didn't hire Moore to kill Tyrion, Moore was taking a chance to kill who he believed was responsible for Jon Arryn's death after getting news from the Vale from on old friend who still lives there re: the very rigged Trial and Lysa's (very loud and false) claims. Moore was taking the first opportunity for vengeance that he thought he could get away with.

What do you think? Feasible? Too much crack?

One day, I am going to come up with a conspiracy theory that contains so much pure crack, the cops will break down the door for a drug bust.

But also, given how this series uses perceptions and assumptions, even if we're in some one's POV, we don't always get the full story, but it is the best way to be sure someone actually did something for realsies.

... You know, I'm actually kind of surprised they let Lollys keep the foetus (or are forcing her to keep the foetus) to term. You'd think, given how they treat bastards and such, that they'd remove 'such a stain' before it became a problem.

(Or at the very least they wouldn't force a young woman who's been violated to carry a baby she never asked for. But then again this series does not care very much for the female members of the cast. The kind ongoing of trauma and dysphoria that is probably giving her, whether it looks that way or not in her current mental state...)

"To guard the king's life, you surrender your own. You give up your lands and titles, give up hope of marriage, children..." "House Tyrell continues through my brothers," Ser Loras said. "It is not necessary, for a third son to wed, or breed." "Not necessary, but some find it pleasant. What of love?" "When the sun has set, no candle can replace it."

D&D suck at their job = 🥛

I'm sorry, but can we just take a moment and appreciate the depth of Loras' grief? Like, I have no trouble believing Book!Loras loved Renly for real. Truly, honestly loved him first and foremost before he saw him as a pawn to get at the throne.

Show!Loras and Renly? I forgot they even fucked.

Loras being gay in the show felt like a background joke. "LoL, Sansa has a crush on a gay boy," or "LOL, Cersei is getting married to the gay boy."

Even between Loras and Renly, in the show, the first time we really saw them together, Loras was talking Renly into vying for the crown and Robert wasn't even dead yet. It was manipulation and titillation. Were they in love or was Loras just using him? Who knows, but after Renly died no one really cared, and I forgot they fucked, forgot Loras was even gay until it was shoved back in my face like a poor tasting joke.

Book!verse though? I can believe those two were in love, I can believe Loras is grieving that loss so quietly because he can't say what he's lost, what he feels, he can't express the depth of it and he has to listen to everyone around him belittle that affection and connection, and oh my gosh that poor boy.

A woman sidled into the light; plump, soft, matronly, with a round pink moon of a face and heavy dark curls. Tyrion recoiled. "Is something amiss?" she asked. Varys, he realized with annoyance.

Drag Queen!Varys is canon. Pry it from my cold dead hands. Just cross-dressing, I know, shhhh, let me have this.

"He's gone," Shae said. Tyrion turned to look. It was true. the eunuch had vanished, shirts and all. The hidden doors are here somewhere, they have to be.

You wanna bet they're under the giant stone slab of a bed? You know, that thing that our attention was directed to the last time he was talking about hidden doors?

(also, it made me think of that scene from the animated Secret Garden, with the secret door under the window seat when they were talking about it earlier, but it probably slides like that giant coffin door from... oh gish, what's the movie... it's going to come to me right as I'm drifting off to sleep. It's like an entire trope to be fair, "giant stone altar/coffin is actually a sliding door" so I'm probably thinking of several movies.)

Her cunt gave him a little squeeze, and he started to stiffen again inside her.

'cunt' = 🥛

... you know, the longer Shae talks about Lollys, the more I prefer Show!Shae to Book!Shae, just for the fact that the show version has some level of empathy for other people. I understand it's probably a coping mechanism for some kind of hidden backstory trauma (no one in this series is without), but damn the way book!Shae treats sexual assault is icky AF.

Then he made a round of the walls, tapping on each in turn, searching for the hidden door. Shae sat with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, watching him. Finally she said, "They're under the bed. the secret steps." He looked at her, incredulous. "The bed? the bed is solid ston. It weighs half a ton." "There's a place where Varys pushes, and it floats right up. I asked him how, and he said it was magic." "Yes." Tyrion had to grin. "A counterweight spell."

Ha-ha! I was right... about the location. Not the door type, though. The magic in this series is so low key or background I tend to forget it's a thing.

This does explain how he got out of the room without being heard. half-ton stones are not quietly moved, even if they have mechanisms to help them.

!! Alayaya made it back to her mother's brothel! Phew, I was low key worried something had happened to her on the walk back. you know, after she was whipped and kicked out the Keep naked?

"There is a singer who calls himself Symon Silver Tongue," Tyrion said wearily, pushing his guilt aside. "He plays for Lady Tanda's daughter sometimes. "What of him?" Kill him, he might had said, but damn the man had done nothing but sing a few songs.

You'd think Bards would do better in life, what with being a Charisma class, but no, no one likes Bards here.

And fill Shae's head with thoughts of doves and dancing bears.

... well now I have "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia (1997) stuck in my head.

Dancing Bears Painted Wings Things I almost remember. And a song someone sings Once upon a December.

[adhd-merlin]

[I've used an image-to-text extractor to copy the interview here:]

Digging up the past

Colin Morgan and Annabel Scholey star in a tense new psychological thriller

DRAMA –  BBC IPLAYER • ALL FOUR EPS AVAILABLE FROM MON 2 SEP

DEAD AND BURIED

In this series, Cathy's (Annabel Scholey) past trauma resurfaces when she encounters Michael (Colin Morgan), the man convicted of her brother's murder 20 years previously, and she sets out to get revenge. Tell us about them both...

Annabel: At the start of the drama, Cathy is relatively calm. She's happily – I wouldn't say necessarily passionately – married, with a small son, who she adores. When she was 15, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland, her much-loved older brother was killed in a firebomb explosion, and it shattered her universe. She went off the rails and so she has definitely got a wild side. But at the beginning of this, she's not showing any signs of it.

Colin: Michael is in what I'd say is almost an arranged marriage. He was in prison at a formative time in his life. He came across a pastor who set him on the right path – and it just so happens that his pastor's daughter is now his wife, like the whole thing was some kind of weird rehabilitation programme. I think it felt good for him, for people to give him a second chance- but now, in his mid-thirties, he realises he is in something not of his own choosing. He feels trapped.

And the course of wreaking vengeance doesn't run smooth for Cathy...

Colin: At the end of the day, Michael is getting on with his life. Sometimes we paint a villain in our heads, and we definitely don't want to like them. And I think that's the most disarming thing for Cathy. She's got all this hate for someone she eventually meets up with, and she's like, ‘For f***'s sake, he's nice!’ – you know? It puts her in a weird old place. A quintessentially Northern Irish way of dealing with trauma is often laughing through it, but still feeling the pain underneath. It's a coping mechanism, which we find out as the story goes on.

Annabel: Michael has a lot of charisma. I don't think Cathy expects that. She believes she is completely in control of the situation and goes down the road of becoming obsessed in making him pay for what he's done. So he knocks her off-guard. They have, like, a magnetism between them. Neither of them understands what it is, but it's dangerous and potent. I think there is a sense they're kindred spirits tied together by this trauma. That, in a way, is comforting to both of them in a very dark, twisted way.

Cathy starts off stalking Michael. Have either of you ever had encounters with fans that made you feel uncomfortable? And do either of you hold grudges?

Annabel: I've only ever had people saying lovely things, never stepping over the line. One thing is sometimes they think you are that person, and check if you're OK. Like on The Split, my character lost everything, and I had people going, ‘You poor thing. How are you going to get your money back?’ I definitely do not bear grudges. I'm quite feisty and passionate, and my temper will blow – then it's gone. I can't remember what the row was about a day later.

Colin: I'm not a grudge bearer either. I'm very forgiving, maybe to a fault. And in terms of encounters, I find the whole industry is quite uncomfortable, when you think about celebrity culture, having gone in pursuit of the thing that is in your heart, which for me as a child, was bringing what I did in a rehearsal room with lots of other kids on to the stage for the pure fun of it – bringing that into your adult life and living it. And then suddenly it ends up on a screen. It turns into something entirely different that you weren't prepared for. I was doing a lot of theatre before any film and TV came along, and I was able to go on stage, do my thing, come home. The second you appeared on telly, people were coming to see you for something else. I reckon they saw the show, but I don't know that they were there for the theatrical experience. It's strange to be put in that role when you're not the one who chose it, even though the industry lends itself to it. I hope that makes sense. It’s extremely contradictory, isn't it? But it's something that actors who get into this business for the reasons I did struggle with later down the line.

Martina Fowle

• Also airs on BBC1 Northern Ireland, Monday

Interesting little tidbit. Of course he literally explains why he feels uncomfortable doing any of the promotional work that we all crave lol

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 2

Summary: While marriage was the last thing he’d want, especially with his enemies’ daughter, the Darkling isn’t above playing dirty to get what he wants. But his wish for a wedding night turns sour once he realizes his bride is anything but a weak human.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual references

Part one   

===========================

Walking down a hall, Y/N felt her heart drop as they neared a room meant for them. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized Darkling’s faithful Grisha followed them every step of the way.

Stopping moments before she walked into her now husband, Y/N turned on her heel. With a smile believable to anyone with an outsider’s perspective, she folded her hands before her abdomen.

“Did you guys enjoy the wedding?” Her voice is light, cheerful even. It felt odd, enough for Kirigan’s eyes to narrow at Ivan and Fedyor who replied simultaneously.

“Yes.” “No.”

Chuckling, she raised her eyebrows, “Well, did you both attend the same wedding?”

Swallowing thickly, Fedyor decided to speak for Ivan who was still disgruntled nearly as much as Kirigan.

“The wedding was perfect and you were a vision.”

Humming, she nods, “I’m glad it wasn’t a waste of time for you as it was for me. Good evening.” Turning her back on their flabbergasted faces, Y/N lifted her chin before entering the room on her own.

She could hear Kirigan’s annoyed sigh as he dismissed his Grisha, but the sound of the doors closing truly rattled her insides. Looking to him, she held her breath to stop a shuddered one from escaping her.

"I understand it's not what you expected", he smiled frostily. "I had plans that didn't include you either. But I suppose we'll both have to make do."

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "Make do?"

It was their wedding night, doors shut with no witnesses and the marriage arranged for the two of them felt like a noose tied around her neck. She swallows thickly, hyper aware of the bed dominating the room behind her and her hands, wrapped in each other behind her back have begun to tremble.

The general she married leaned back against the door, looking her up and down with a smile of slow appreciation. "Well, you are mine now."

"I may be tied to you by state laws, but I am not yours", she spat.

"No", he smirked, "Not yet." He peels away from the doors, stepping closer. He takes off his black kefta, draping it on a chair. Beginning to unbutton his black, silk shirt, the General looked at her as if she were a caged bird meant for his amusement.

"There are some traditions for tonight", he took one step toward her as he hummed.

"Are you familiar with the word defenestration?" She raised her voice ever so slightly, refusing to step back in fright. He does not get to challenge her and win. Not now, not ever. She does not draw back in a fight, her father taught her so.

"No", he raised an eyebrow, unsure what she means.

"If you come anywhere close to me", she growled out, "I will make sure you find out first hand."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss a good time", he purred, coming closer.

"Oh please, my heel is bigger than your dick."

Raising his eyebrows, the Darkling nearly scoffed at her confidence in this matter. "How can you be so sure when you've never even seen it?"

"No man with anger like yours could ever have something in his pants worth my time."

"You are my wife, are you not?" He narrowed his eyes at her and she rolled hers in contempt.

"Unfortunately."

"Glad you're aware of it", he licks his lips, "Means we're on the same page."

"Same page? We're not even in the same book!"

Those eyes of hers, as fierce and unperturbed by anything he did, could swallow stars and galaxies and universes. As far as he's concerned, she did for he could see them all mirrored in the defiance she locked her gaze onto his with.

"This", he whispers aggressively. "You", he presses closer until his lips are but a faint inhale away from hers, "Are mine. He gazes down at her, gauging her reaction, his eyes burning.

"You're a demon", she speaks through gritted teeth. "I don't trust demons, I don't lay with demons", she pushed against his chest with both her hands, "All you do is destroy."

"I’d say the same thing about you, human."

Rolling her eyes at him, she refuses to relent. Her body is tense, her neck aching from looking up at his dark presence she would not bend before. She isn’t a horse to be broken, she’s a soldier, her father’s daughter.

“Why are you glaring at me?” He grumbled, his lips nearly brushing against hers and she noticed.

Her heart skipped a beat once she realized just how close he is, “I’m hoping you’ll combust spontaneously.”

Raising an eyebrow, a cold smile forms on his lips, “Ah, how cute. But you’re no Inferni.”

“I’m better”, she brought her knee up so swiftly he didn’t see it coming. As her knee collided right between his legs, Kirigan bent over, bellowing in pain.

“Don’t you know who I am?!” He growled with fury, struggling to straighten up. Forced to look up at the smug smile upon her lush, rosy lips, Kirigan never felt more enraged by a woman before.

“I do.” Shrugging, she sat at the bottom of the bed. “I just don’t fucking care. You don’t scare me.”

His gaze felt like fire, setting every inch of her skin aflame and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was hate or lust that burned so bright within him….within her. Either way, she knew she’d be teasing him like this every day if it meant he’d look at her like that. She always did like playing with fire, Inferni or not, and Kirigan just made himself an easy target.

On one knee, he gripped the sheets in an attempt to pull himself up, yet all he could do is groan and clutch his groin.

Gripping his chin, she locked her gaze on him with an unforgivable disobedience. “I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. I’m not a dutiful wife who desperately seeks your attention. I’m a general’s daughter. I was born to make the world shatter and shake at my fingertips.” Turning his head to the door, she leans in and whispers in his ear. “And now you can leave while your manhood is still relatively untouched.”

“I could kill you for this”, the Darkling threatens, wishing he could wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze the resistance out of her along with her life.

“I’d like to see you try”, she sneered. Standing abruptly, she turned her back on him.

Sitting with his back against the doorframe, Darkling glared at her with burning passion – for vengeance, of course. While he assumed she’d be difficult, he didn’t presume her to be as strong-willed. A part of him was certain she’d cave once he turned on his charm, but she never allowed him to.

Noticing her hand movement, he quickly realized she’s unbuttoning her kefta as well. In seconds, his eyes widen as she slips the kefta off her shoulders and it falls to the floor. Nothing but a sheer gown hugs her body so tightly, the Darkling felt his breath stop in his throat.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on him, “Do you have no manners?”

She kept her eyes locked on his as she turned, opened her gown and slipped it from her shoulders, exposing her body to him. In his eyes appeared a mix of hunger and desire in such intensity that she was both excited and frightened.

“I’m the only one allowed to look at you, that’s a right you can’t strip me of.”

In time it takes for a heartbeat to echo in her ears, the Darkling stood before her. She took a shuddering breath as he gathered her into his embrace.

“Are you planning on forcing yourself onto me?” Y/N’s jaw clenched as her nostrils flare.

Pressing his lips together, his dark eyes narrow in disbelief, “Do you honestly believe me to be so evil?”

Speaking through gritted teeth, she remarks, “Yes.”

Nodding, her purses his lips. Raising his hands in mock surrender, Kirigan moves away from her. He straightens his back, finishing unbuttoning his shirt until the end – just before he lets it fall to the ground.

She swallows thickly, refusing to look anywhere below his chin. For a moment, she could have sworn a flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but she blamed the candlelight for the deceit. There is nothing good, nothing human in general Kirigan. He cannot feel hurt and she refused to let him past her defenses. She will not feel for him, she will not fall for him. He’s a task she had to manage, nothing more.

Unzipping his pants, he took the rest of his clothes off.

Her eyes flicker to his middle as he heads to the bed, realizing he’s wearing undergarments.

Relieved, Y/N opened the drawers, finding herself a proper nightgown to cover herself with. Once her body was no longer open to his view, she looked to him with pursed lips.

“I will not touch you”, he rolls his eyes, “But we are married. Might as well make the rest of the world believe the arrangement is somewhat functional.”

Looking at the door, she contemplated leaving. Sharing a bed with someone, anyone, was intimate. It required trust, love, a sense of safety and loyalty she certainly didn’t share with Kirigan.

“If you choose to leave, it will be all they talk about it the morning”, Darkling warns her and she huffs.

“If you lay a hand on me, I’ll be seeing you at the end of the altar once more. But in a casket during your funeral”, she glares at him and he can’t help but chuckle at her words.

He watched her settle in the bed, beside him. Placing a pillow between them seemed rather odd, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he half expected her to make an attempt on his life on their wedding night. He still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do the same.

“Sweet dreams, wife”, he smiled as she blew out the candle and the darkness settled in. He always felt comfortable in the dark.

She never felt comfortable in darkness, but he’d never know. She would be brave from now on – she wouldn’t bend, break or bow to anyone.

“I hope your dreams are filled with Volcra”, she snapped before turning on her side, further away from him.

Eventually, despite her initial distrust for the man, Y/N fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. She shifted in her sleep, throwing her leg over Kirigan’s, her hair twisting round and round his arm.

But the Darkling did not fall asleep immediately. She moved against him and snuggled closer. Even though she wouldn’t come close to him awake, she reached for him in her sleep. She wanted him nearby and it drew a smile to his lips. Catching himself smiling, the Darkling sat up in distress.

She may be appealing, but he cannot get attached to her. Ever.

His heart beats loudly, deafening so, his mind unable to slow down even for a moment. How could he fall asleep when he knew this angel beside him was simply a devil in disguise?

She’s a human – daughter of his enemy. Once she serves her purpose, the Darkling knew what he had to do. Turning her back on her side, he fixes the pillow in the middle. She’s a human, fleeting, he’s eternal and he will not allow himself the weakness of caring for someone like her.

Just as his mind drifts, he feels an arm wrap around him and he tenses up, eyes opening wide. “Fuck.”

Tags: @kaqua​ @savannah-elliott​ @all-art-is-quite-useless​

PART 3

[stetervault]

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

OR

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

-

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

~~

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

--

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

[willyoufindmetlk]

The Siege of Winchester - Sigtryggr x Stiorra (Part 2)

Part 1

Stiorra banged her head against the table in boredom. She had not been in Winchester very long and she was already about to go mad. She searched around the reading room looking for something, anything to do besides sit and wait for her father. Yet, there was nothing. Nothing but old books about Saxons and games played by old men. She never thought she wished to be back in the company of Aelthstan and Aelfwyn.

Getting up from her seat at the table, she climbed up to look out the window. It’s not like she could actually see if her father and his men were near, not from her point of view anyway. But she knew he would come. Uhtred may not have been a present father, but he loved his children and would die before any harm came to them.

However, she knew if her father came to Winchester they would try to kill him. Especially Brida. She carried the weight of hatred and revenge for her father. Stiorra could never imagine being that cold and living for the sake of revenge. But then again, she has never been in love. At least in the terms of a lover. Sure, she loved her mother, her father, and her brother. She even cared for her father’s men. But never a lover.

Most girls her age were not heading towards a life of marriage and children. She refused to live such a life. She would not become a wife nor bear children just for the sake of it. No, she had lived her life for other people her entire life. If she survived this, she would live a life of freedom. A life of her own choosing.  

The door opened causing Stiorra to turn around. She rolled her eyes seeing Eardwulf. She could smell the ale all the way from her place at the table. He stumbled over towards her.

“I’ve been drinking ale,” he slurred.

Stiorra turned her face away from him, “I know.”

“What do you want?” She asked.

Eardwulf threw his knife onto the table in front of her, “To kill someone. I think.”

“Someone or myself, one of the two,” he hiccuped.

Stiorra looked at the knife on the table, “Sigtryggr wants me as a hostage.”

She debated on whether she could take the knife and use it to her advantage. But if even she were to escape, there were too many Danes she would have to take on and a knife would simply not help.

“I am of use to him alive,” she said.

“Oh, don’t be fooled,” he said, reaching out for a strand of her hair. “He’s playing with you.”

Stiorra glared at him, pushing his hand away from her.

“Unlike myself, he’s a man bereft of conscience,” he whispered.

Stiorra pulled herself up from the table, walking away from him, “Then don’t anger him by killing me… If you want favor amongst the Danes.”

“I do not want favor amongst the Danes!” He shouted, causing Stiorra to jump slightly.

She slowly took steps away from him, feeling the wall against her back.

Eardwulf closed the distance between them. Stiorra felt his drunken breath against her.

“Making a bargain with them was madness. I can see that now. I will suffer whatever I choose. So, I might as well take pleasure in a small scrap of vengeance,” he whispered.

“I have done nothing to you!” Stiorra spat.

“Your father turned my sister from me. Your father, Lady Aethelflaed, the King, all of them, stole my chance to regain my honor. Pushed my face in the dirt when all I wanted was to take back what was owed. Do you know what it is to live your life derided? To be forced to turn from your people to survive? Do you know what that does to a man?,” he told her, his face inches from her’s.

Stiorra dipped down, escaping from his trap, “Turns him into a drunk?”

“Do not mock me,” Eardwulf shook his head.

“Then don’t be pitiful,” Stiorra spat. “All this you brought upon yourself. You know that.”

Anger overtook Eardwulf as he brought his hand across Stiorra’s face.

“Ah!” she cried out, holding her stinging cheek.

**

Once his breathing had returned to normal, he knew he needed to distract himself. He should have checked on his men. Checked to see if there was any word from Edward or Uhtred, but instead he found himself heading to the room that held Stiorra. The closer he got to the room, he heard a shouting match.

There was an anger in the man’s voice and a mocking tone in Stiorra’s. A smirk broke out across his lips. But that’s when he heard it. The smack. He pushed open the door, hoping it was Stiorra’s hand against Eardwulf’s cheek that made the noise, but it was not. Stiorra held her cheek. The same redness he saw just moments ago was back.

He walked over to Eardwulf, standing in between him and Stiorra.

“Is this how we play now?” Sigtryggr asked. “We strike those weaker than ourselves?”

Sigtryggr backhanded Eardwulf, the sound echoing throughout the room, “Go on. I like this game,” he smirked, glancing back at Stiorra.

Still holding her cheek, she looked at Sigtryggr, shocked by his actions.

“She’s defiant and does not fear me,” Eardwulf stuttered.

“Is that how Saxons are controlled?” Sigtryggr asked.

Eardwulf shook his head, “I don’t understand you.”

“In Saxon lands, are people subdued by fear?” Sigtryggr asked, slower.

Confused, Eardwulf looked at him, “Aren’t all people subdued by fear?”

“Was this how Alfred thrived?” Sigtryggr looked at him.

“Yes,” Eardwulf nodded.

“No! Alfred was loved,” Stiorra interrupted. “Look at how they honor him.”

Sigtryggr crossed his arms, “And what of your Lord Aethelred whom you abandoned to chose a life with me?”

“Aethelred was loved and feared,” he responded.

Stiorra scoffed, “Not by you. You killed him in his bed.”

Sigtryggr looked at her.

“It’s why he ran from Merica,” she told him.

“Is this true?” Sigtryggr asked him.

“No, why would you believe a captive girl?” Eardwulf defended.

“You lie worse than a child,” Sigtryggr laughed. “I knew there was something untrustworthy about you.”

“I brought you here. You can trust me. I’ve proved it,” Eardwulf said.

“And how should I rule here?” Sigtryggr whispered. “By love? Or by fear?”

Eardwulf gulped, “I would always choose fear.”

Stiorra stood in shock at the events that took place. How Sigtryggr came to her aid, not that she needed him to, but she was grateful. She wasn’t sure what he would do to Eardwulf now, but she had an inkling. A Dane would not allow someone to cross them, especially if that person is a Saxon. Now that Sigtryggr has no use for him, surely he would be killed.

She heard shouting from the outside. Rushing over to the window to peek out, she saw Sigtryggr’s men carrying Eardwulf out in front of the other Danes. He’s shoved to the ground as Sigtryggr spoke to his men. Stiorra’s lip cracked into a smile when she saw Eardwulf brought to his knees and a knife shoved into his body.

And that’s when it happened. The sound of an army approaching. Edward’s army and her father.

It had started.

**

Night had fallen and so had the initial attack on Winchester by Edward’s army. Now, the only sound to be heard outside of the walls where Stiorra was being kept is the sound of men drinking and laughing. She sighed leaning against the window, the moonlight shone through illuminating her facial features along with burning flames. She had not seen Sigtryggr since he had taken Eardwulf away and she felt the odd feeling of missing him.

Shaking her thoughts away, she once again roamed around the room looking for any source of entertainment. Her boredom is what triggered her previous feelings. Sigtryggr was the only person to visit her so far during her stay, besides Eardwulf, but she could care less about him. Being stuck inside of a room by herself was surely the cause of wanting the presence of another.

Yet the only presence she wanted was that of Sigtryggr. It’s almost as if the Gods heard her because soon that is exactly who walked in through the door.

Sigtryggr. He carried a plate of food and a cup of water in his hands.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said, holding the plate up to show her.

“I am, thank you,” she nodded.

Sigtryggr walked over, placing the food onto the table, before taking a seat at the end of the table. Still wanting to keep his distance from her.

“I am sorry for what happened with Eardwulf,” he said softly. “I told you I would not harm you and you have been harmed.”

“Not by you,” she answered. “Eardwulf was a drunk who felt sorry for himself and for his actions. I do not blame you for what he did.”

“Besides, it only hurt a little,” she said. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Sigtryggr smiled, “I see that.”

Sigtryggr leaned forward a bit, “But in any case, he is dead. And I promise no more harm will come to you. I swear to the Gods.”

Taking a bite of bread, Stiorra looked at him, “Is that your way of saying you have no plans to kill me?”

“I do not,” he said.

“Even though my death could bring my father here?” She asked. “Isn’t that what you want? To kill the Dane-Slayer?”

“Perhaps,” Sigtryggr said. “But I’m also learning there may be another path for me.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

“I do not know,” he said. “But I’m willing to wait and find out.”

Stiorra turned her body in order to fully face him now, “If you have no plans to kill me nor my father, then why am I still here? How am I of use to you?”

“I am not sure about that either,” he said, walking closer toward her. “What I do know is, the Gods brought you here and there must be a reason for that.”

Stiorra felt her turn in stomach as she looked up at him. His eyes never left hers as he brought his head up to her cheek.

“You have a small cut,” he whispered.

“I am fine,” she breathed out.

Ignoring her, Sigtryggr tore a piece of cloth from the table, dabbing it into the cup of water. He took her chin in his hand and slowly cleaned the dried blood from her cheek.

Stiorra winced, but he held her gaze. The two of them locked eyes for what seemed like forever. Their bodies slowly crept towards the other, closing the small distance between them. Stiorra placed her hand over his, bringing it down from her cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Their fingers gently caressed the others. It felt as if time stood still. That neither of them were in Winchester with drunken men outside and a royal army waiting outside the walls to take back what was theirs.

No, at that moment, it was just the two of them. Together. Fighting against a feeling neither one of them ever felt before nor believed they could ever want. Sigtryggr took his gaze from her’s, but only for a second to glance down at her lips. Stiorra nodded her head, granting him permission.

However, the door flew open and Hestan walked in.

Both Sigtryggr and Stiorra jumped, moving away from each other. Stiorra took a bite of bread, while Sigtryggr messed with Thor’s Hammer around his neck.

Hestan froze, “Uh, sorry, my lord, but uh, you are needed outside. There seems to be a little mishap amongst the men with the ale.”

Sigtryggr sighed, “Give me a moment.”

Hestan nodded quickly before retreating. Stiorra continued to face away from Sigtryggr.

“I should go before I lose my men to drunken fights,” he laughed, softly.

Stiorra laughed a bit, “We can’t have that can we?”

“I’ll return tomorrow,” he said. “If that is okay with you.”

Spinning her ring around her finger, she nodded, “Perhaps we could play a game or two.”

“Perhaps,” he smiled.

Sigtryggr headed towards the door, turning back to look at her, “Goodnight, Stiorra,” he bowed slightly.

“Goodnight, Sigtryggr,” she whispered.

[sweetobseesion]

About Wang So’s Villainy

*I DO NOT HATE WANG SO, NOR IS THIS A POST CRITICISING HIM. IT IS BASED ON MY OPINION , AND IT AIMS TO POINT OUT AND EXPLORE  HIS “VILLAINOUS SIDE” THAT SHAPES HIM THROUGHOUT THE DRAMA.

I just wanted to point this out because I’ve noticed people have two reactions to it. Either there’s people denying it or people heavily emphasising on it.I would like to clarify,that Wang So is very much a character that is caught in crossroads, stuck between both his selfless heroic nature and his ,beastly savage side.

The show never denied his villainy, not even for a moment.He was always dangerous,scary and he himself, usually acknowledges his crimes and extreme personality.

The only difference is , he had the scope to be a better person. He realises he is in the wrong and understands the consequences of his actions. But even then , he never changes. Murder is always a full forged solution in his book.

But what made his personality more flawed was his anger, pride and this ability to listen to only himself. It’s what made him into a powerful king too, but it’s also what affected his relationship with Soo towards the end.

It’s hard to discern whether his impulsive , suspicious nature is the result of his environment and circumstances that he grew up in or just his personality. His Nature. But Wang So has always been pragmatic, opportunist and suspicious of those around him.

When we see him enter the palace, he kills of a horse. When Jimong offers him the opportunity to protect the crown prince , he questions his intentions. And he never opens up to anyone and is always on guard, full of excuses and masks. Which is why when Yeonhwa suggests he learns with the princes, he says he prefers being alone with his hunts. We all know he wants to live in Songak,but he says this because he doesn’t want her to know his intentions. And even Yeonhwa,can see through it.

He isolates himself from people.And it’s this exact combination of stubbornness, impulsivity and constant suspicion that makes it so easy for him kill anyone quickly and justify it. And since he isolated himself, there’s no one to stop him or make him think on it.And hence, he grows up, used to his extreme actions and not reflecting on it. Though he has his moments of regret, it’s not something he dwells on a lot.And he will never admit to it too,because he has pride.

All this makes it all the more easy for him to justify his actions.

It makes him either invincible or impossible and stubborn. Quite possibly both, but that doesn’t mean he is not bound to face the consequences of his actions. He is human after all, and if he chooses reckless actions one after the other and defend it, he’s bound to face the consequences. It doesn’t matter if he has a good reason or not. General Park points that out to him , clearly.

But he doesn’t think it through , and just ponders it for a while. But this moment, pretty much sets the stage for his inevitable end. All throughout his life he has to kill to survive, but the more he kills, the more enemies he creates and the more he has to cover up his path. And hence , the lonelier he becomes.

Meanwhile his relationship with Soo blossoms,and he finds it hard to explain his feelings for her.She shows him empathy and never judges him in his worst state,and tries to understand him. She treats him with kindness and like any other human being. He finds it easy and comfortable to talk to her and be around her.He opens up to her easily and listens to her easily. He also thinks about her and willingly incorporates what she says into his thoughts and actions. In other words , he has a crush on he doesn’t realise it. It’s quite hard for him to understand his own feelings, given how lonely he grew up.

And when he does,he is confused yet thrilled. But he still doesn’t possess complete understanding of his emotions, and he is not completely comfortable with having a person who sees right through him. Like when she sees right through his insecurity of his scar.And he punishes her for that by silence , and reprimanding her when she makes his favourite tea.

He ignores her, and it’s not until she reaches out to him after the rain festival does he put his defences down. But then, this was only achieved through her own efforts.In order to help him,she creates a foundation that conceals his scar,and she helps him succeed in the rain ritual.

He pretty much sets his heart to her after that and chases her and focuses on getting her for himself.He never listens to her rejection or her refusal and is quite insistent with his ways.He seeks her out and is quite determined to have her and he uses all means possible to have her by his side. Like he asks the King for her, then he takes her out of the palace ,drinks poison to protect her and stands by her side.

But little does he realise that this puts her in danger more than anything else. Because the more he chases her the more jealous Wook gets, the more worried his father becomes and the worse her reputation becomes ,because everyone calls her “bad luck” and blames her for how he turned out. But thing is , he does not realise it. He never sees the damage he’s unintentionally caused to her because in his mind he’s doing the right thing, choosing the right thing. He won’t listen to anyone who disagrees and he defies anyone who tries to stop him and that includes the king. In his mind, he already sees himself as the Knight in shining armour, who fights for the woman he loves.

And as his feelings grow, he also finds himself getting easily jealous. He has this habit of just assuming things and sticking by it, and it makes it hard for him to communicate.When he has to marry someone and is aware that is a deal breaker to her, he never reveals to her the reason behind it. Fans say this better than making up a excuse but I don’t see how this is better as it just leaves her alone without an explanation.All because he assumes she would hate him anyway.At the end of the day an explanation is better than an assumption or an excuse. He gets jealous when Baek Ah gets her the best present. His emotions have now become completely besotted with her,and is eager for real romance .So it’s not much of surprise to see his reaction after he discovers Jung hid in her room,it’s clear that he’s suspicious and doesn’t trust her easily.But this time , he goes to her asks her. He communicates and clears his doubts and reaches a deal. And it’s all sweetness for once.

Soon, their loyalties are tested, and they both hesitate to sort it out on their own. Wang So tries to sort it out all by himself and Hae Soo is hiding the people he’s searching for, eventually confesses to her , she holds back since she has too many warnings and supernatural visions that hold her back, but she does trust him . But it’s too late,and he ends up killing a brother and that haunts him. But that’s what pushes him to realise his place and finally steer him towards his path of being king.But for that when he’s asked to sacrifice Soo, he understands and breaks up with her in the cruelest way possible,by blaming her for his brother’s death.

The thing is, while saying those cruel words, he is also venting his anger out to her. When he returns he is still cold to her , but she still chases after him.She is burdened with guilt,and he cannot deny his feelings. Soon this leads to reincoincillation But thing is, Soo know he left her for the throne, but listens to his other reason anyway.She is beyond the point of no return, desperate to be with him. Hence gets what he wants, the throne and the girl.And they’re happy , for a while.

Until the issue of their marriage comes up,and everyone around Soo reminds her that she cannot marry him and be queen.The whole court urges So to marry Yeonhwa and he holds back, stubborn and he refuses to listen to them.Again Hae Soo ,has to give her approval and seem weak or the bad person.She is willingly talking the burn out for their relationship, both publicly and personally. Meanwhile , So grows more powerful.And he doesn’t back down this time.

He gets more stubborn and set in his ways,and refuses to listen to anyone else, especially now that his word is practically the law.He distances himself from Soo because he’s failed to live up to his promises of marrying her and starts channeling his anger to the Court and Jung .So he doesn’t hold back and starts unleashing his power and vengeance , beginning with Jung when he opposes him, and forbidding him to see his mother.When his mother protests , he forbades him to see her , which causes the queen to go on a hunger protest, asking to see her Jung.

We see Soo try to stop it , yes out of concern for Jung. But only because it’s in her character and she foresees the disastrous consequences, that it could possibly haunt him in the end and it did, in a way he never saw coming. When she sends for him ,he doesn’t reprimand or argue with her,he directly threatens her with punishment , proving he’s finally become the King he’s destined to be. Everything that was Wang So has already submerged into his conscience and only Gwangjong remains.

How could anyone expect her to understand him, when the man who loves her and risked his life for her is now threatening her with punishment, while instilling fear in her ?He’s being a King more than anything else. Jung arrives late and the queen dies.He later berates her for not taking his side, and walks away before she has the chance to apologise or provide comfort. He’s broken yes, but he is also unwilling to listen.Then, he proceeds to kill Chaeryung without an explanation, probably expecting her understanding in that matter too. People still blame Hae Soo , like they do for everything. But it was too much of a shock for her, just watching as she is beaten to death,without any anticipation or explanation.So explains his reason, but it’s too late, the graphic images of what she saw still reel in her head and no excuses can properly apply, because he really did kill her without warning. The reality of the palace becomes clear to Soo, and she makes up her mind.

Meanwhile, Wang So is furious and he blames Wook for all this,and when he goes to his room.He finds Yeonhwa , sitting there trying to trick him into consummating the marriage,but he sees through it.He makes a deal with her to get his revenge against Wook and it involves making the same promise he made to Soo.

So executes his plan to stand up to Wook, but he’s shocked to see Soo stand up to him. He states that he doesn’t like it but he listens to her this time, only because she doesn’t give him the opportunity to walk away by kneeling and she comes up with a good reason.

People point out and sometimes even write lengthy metas defending his actions, romanticising it and citing it as the greatest example of love to ever exist. But they fail to understand why this is considered problematic.It’s problematic because it’s so twisted and it’s bound to have consequences. He’s out here framing his brother, using consummation with his sister as colleteral, and is deriving pleasure out of momentary revange using his position of authority.As if that’s not that’s not bound to have consequences.

As viewers, we have an idea of how conniving Wook is. But the  idea Goryeo’s society has of Wook is he is a wise scholar an benevolent individual, a brother in law of the king who would be gracious enough to marry off his sister to him. He has the ministers in his fingertips, and if the King were to kill him over a bird, it would just prove what they and history have been thinking : That he’s a tyrant and a wolf dog who’s only good at killing people. He’s early into his reign and it would certainly build up a reputation that would not get him respect from the ministers.On top of that this was a guy that blamed himself for killing his brother for years.

And that’s exactly why Soo stops him. Sure she doesn’t want Wook to die, but also doesn’t want So to be remembered only as a bloody king. But this riles up his suspicion and Jealousy and increases his paranoia more than anything else.Next we have Jung , who finally has a chance to use his decree. He goes to Soo, who basically says what she’s been saying all along.  That she wants to leave and there’s no hope for their relationship.She’s honest with him and even confesses her hate.He again doesn’t listen to her and walks away, vowing he’ll never let her go.

And it finally allows Yeonhwa to execute her plans meticulously and for Wook to have his revenge. Wook confesses his past relationship with Soo, and it literally turns his brain upside down.He cannot believe the woman he loves used to love his enemy and she still sticks up for him. And it’s all it takes for his paranoia to sweep in and convince himself that she has never loved him and it was all Wook. He says he’ll never see her again and agrees to let her out of the palace.

I guess his actions after this split truly exhibit the many layers of his characters: his insecurity, his hypocrisy, pride ,vulnerability and jealousy. Insecurity in his feelings for Soo, that she loves someone more than him. That she never loved him and has abandoned him.Jealousy in the fact that she loved and married someone else.I guess these overwhelming emotions make him really vulnerable, and that’s what makes him cry, and still keeps tabs on her, because despite all the anger and hatred , he cannot forget her.

Besides, we cannot discuss his aspects of villainy without discussing his childhood, which is really the cusp of where it all begin. Personally, I think he only survived because he’s Wang So. He Fought back.He never let anyone disrespect him,and he found his own way to derive respect.  I think he deliberately improved on his skills, from combat to education, he improved because he wanted to prove to everyone that’s he much more than what they think. He doesn’t care for people. He only cares for his people. He’s only selfless towards those he cares about.

And that’s where his final and most darkest qualities surface: his pride and hypocrisy.All of his actions, from the beginning to the end, have been influenced by his “pride”. There’s no denying that it’s a big part of his character and the writer made it clear from the get go. We cannot say if it’s because of his traumatic childhood, and how he was treated as a hostage or it really is a underlining element of his personality, but Wang So is all about proving thing this to people. Proving that he is someone who’s much better what they think and getting back at them for putting him through what they did. It’s Soo that makes him see that power can be something more . That it can be used to do something more and help people. It’s she who makes him selfless.

But with that pride and pent up anger, he has this side of him that’s bit of an hypocrite. Why else do you think he’s able to continuously make excuses for all his actions, from the beginning? I’m not sure if it’s because he’s him or hypocrisy is a dominant gene that gets passed on to every member of the Goryeo Royal family and runs fresh in their veins , but just like all of them, he’s an hypocrite. He only sees his side of things.

He blames Soo for leaving him , but he left her as well. Two years prior, and even now. He accuses her of not trusting him and not understanding him , but as we can see , he’s the one with trust issues and he’s the one who misunderstood her feelings. He spies on her and assumes she never loved him , and really, this time he cannot blame anyone else but himself for his actions. It’s because of these actions that they have such a painful separation. He’s so involved with himself at this point , that besides seeing only his side of things, he views himself someone who’s wronged, but he never sees how much he’s actions hurt and affect the ones he’s loved .

There’s no denying that that throne makes him very vulnerable that his insecurities and guard go up times higher , making him isolate people even more. But it’s what makes him such a hypocrite , because he can only see his side of things and excuse anything he does. Especially now that he’s a king , he believes his judgement is better than everyone. Besides, anyone in a position of power, have to be a bit of an hypocrite to begin with. The trick is to not let it completely consume you. But it does and it isolates him, and its what causes him to shut himself from everyone.

In retrospect, I still vehemently hold on to my view that it was best for Hae Soo to leave the palace.With his tunnel vision, once again he never sees the danger he puts Soo in. He tells Soo that she would be his only Queen, but he says the same thing to Yeonhwa to make her give up on her brother. But he doesn’t see that she expects to have him all to herself and be  his “only queen”. So when he plans on making Soo his “second queen” and she has a child on the way, how did he think Yeonhwa will react? With open acceptance and genuine Joy? He’s so blind to her problems and caught up in his struggle, it does not even occur to him how there’s no hope for her in the palace.

All of this problems arise because of all the reasons that I’ve discused in detail. I’m not denying Hae Soo has a part in it, but this is a post focusing on Wang So’s flaws. It’s because he’s possessive, stubborn, arrogant and ignorant that he reaches the conclusion that she never loved him, believes the words of a random spy and spies on her and sees what he wants to see.

There is this thing where people always compare his love to Jung’s and argue that Jung loved better, because he didn't expect anything in return.I would like to remind them that there was a time and Soo didn’t reciprocate Wang so’s feelings and he was ready to sacrifice everything for her. He would drink poison for her. But it all changed when she started loving him back. It’s hard predict how Jung would’ve been if she reciprocated his feelings, but I’m sure he wouldn't’ t have been the same. But where his love triumphs  over So is in the respect he had for her as a person. Jung respected Soo. He respected her choices, her likes and her personality. Whereas,So only agreed with aspects of her personality and disagreed with the rest. He never respected or understood her as a whole. There was no acceptance of her as whole. His love is great but it’s also very suffocating, because there’s no space for her as a whole , flawed person. In his love there’s only space for the Soo he wants her to be: kind, understanding, fun, naive,loyal, and smart. But the stubborn, arrogant, independent, impulsive Soo that can argue back and make her own decisions ? Let’s just say there’s a reason her never listens to her in the first place.

Which is why when the news of her death reaches him and he reads the letters,  The consequences of his actions finally hit and the reality is so cruel he cannot handle it. Which is why he is in so much denial,that he is rushing in the hopes of seeing her one last time. But this time, he’s simply too late.

And this was partly a consequence of his own actions, but it finally hits him: He’s all alone now.He finally understands Hae Soo and longs for her.

The thing is, it wouldn’t have ended up all like this if he had listened to her or apologised. But like mentioned above, all his insecure,dark qualities come together, and bring out his worst self.

But ironically, that’s exactly what Goryeo needed at the time.They needed a king who’s stubborn, not easily influenced and full of pride that will withstand till the end.A king who is powerful enough to push his law through, despite opposition from noble families. And now, he has more than enough reasons to influence him and push him through those decisions. From his horrible childhood to Soo, everything stood as a reason for shaping him into who he is set to become: The powerful 4th King of Goryeo.

But its sadly it’s exactly those qualities destroys his relationship with Soo. As long as he is king, she will be used as his weakness.

My main point in writing this lengthy, tedious post is because to be honest, I’ve seen way to many Wang So stans in this app, who in order to support him, bash and blame other characters for his actions, and look at him through dreamy, swoon worthy glasses. They overlook his flaws and make defences for it, but the things flaws are very much a central point of his character.

He is a passionate lover and an astute King. But he is also is an experienced and skilled warrior, a possessive and jealous man who has no problem with scheming or giving out harsh punishments.He is childish, with trust and mommy issues and he has never recovered from the scars of his childhood. All of which eventually shapes the man he becomes.

Though it’s romantic that he states he will find her wherever she is, even if he does, it won’t bring him the romance or closure he desires. Why? Because, he still has to face the consequences of his own actions. He has to answer why he never came to get her, why he thought she never loved him etc..

He has to learn from his mistakes and understand Soo better.He needs to learn to differentiate love, and to trust her more.He needs to handle his anger properly and not confuse and channel it towards Soo. He needs to respect and understand Soo better, and all of that takes time.And space. And lots of conversations and privacy.

It’s ironic but once again through on his own words, he’s set to prove himself all over again. For all the discussions on “fate”, it seems like he’s deciding his own “fate” now. Again, very heroic but the road to it is very difficult, and there’s no Hae Soo to bear the brunt of making difficult decisions anymore.

But the real question is, whether is the same qualities that drew them apart, will it lead him to her now?

I suppose that’s the roundabout irony we’re all rooting for in the end.

[candycityy]

RIVETRA AND 51.

Note: Hey anon! I already did 51, you can check it out here <3 But in the similar spirit of husband!levi, I did 63 instead ("Can you just man up and change his diaper?"). I hope you enjoy it still!

(You can also read this on AO3!)

Petra Ral, without a doubt, is the person he trusts most on the planet. From subordinate, to comrade, to lover, and finally, wife, she has always demonstrated nothing more or less than an unerring sense of judgment.

This trait, of course, is what made her the most reliable person on his squad back in the day, and what allows him to entrust his life—and the life of his daughter—to her.

But. Still.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Levi asks, for the fourth time that night. His wife doesn't even bother with an exasperated glare this time, just idly turns the page of her book. "And why won't you tell me who you got to babysit? I swear, Petra, if it's Hanji—"

"It's not Hanji, relax," she says lightly, tucking a neatly curled lock of hair behind her ear. "And yes, I'm sure. We haven't had a date night in ages. I think I've forgotten what it's like to actually do an activity that doesn't involve crayons or nursery rhymes."

"But if you'd just tell me—"

"No, Levi." She stands up and smooths down the fabric of her dress—a silky, knee-length sheath the colour of honey. He's seen her in it before, but it still makes his breath catch in his throat; although, to be fair, it's been a while since he'd seen her in something other than a t-shirt and sweatpants.

She glances at the clock, and then at the cot, where Ava is still dozing peacefully—for now, anyway. "They should be here any second."

"They?" he's about to say, when two hesitant knocks come at the door. He starts to get up, but Petra shoots him a warning look and sweeps towards the door. He sits back down.

"Boys, thank you so much for agreeing to babysit today." Petra beams down at their guests, her voice like melted sugar. "Come in." Levi glances up just in time to see...of all people, Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirschtein, wearing twin expressions of wariness.

Oh fuck no.

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "Petra, you're not serious. Jaeger and Kirschtein? You might at least have tried for one of the girls."

"Mikasa wouldn't come," Eren says helpfully, and then blushes, looking a bit awkward. "She has...uh, a bit of a grudge against the captain still, I think."

"Historia was busy, and I don't think you'd want Sasha anyway, sir." Jean, who's crisply attired in his military wear for whatever reason, looks mildly offended at Levi's brusque comment.

Levi tries to be polite.

"It's nothing personal. It's just that the pair of you don't have any experience with infants," he says, attempting to rearrange his features into that calm, reassuring expression Erwin makes whenever he's faced with agitated civilians.

Judging by their faces, he's still pretty far off the mark.

"Actually," Petra intervenes, "they do. Well, Eren does." She shoots him another warm, cinnamon-sweet smile, and he blushes again. "He said he used to babysit the neighbour's toddler with Mikasa. And Jean...well, it was between him and Connie." When the teenager chafes at the comparison, she adds hastily, "and he's always been perfectly responsible and conscientious, hasn't he?"

"We can handle one infant, sir," Eren pipes up. His face is a picture of anxious enthusiasm, reminding Levi sharply and uncomfortably of a particularly eager-to-please puppy.

"I mean, we kill Titans with no problem, and they're a heck lot more troublesome than a baby, I would think," Jean adds, casting a skeptical look over at the still-silent cot.

"You would think," Levi mutters darkly, and is about to put his foot down, no, absolutely, not, when Petra firmly loops her arm through his and begins to steer him towards the exit.

"See? Everything's fine. We'll see you in a couple of hours, boys! Thanks for doing this again!" she chirps, and frog-marches him out of the door.

"Bye, captain! Bye, Ms. Petra!" Eren calls cheerfully, waving. Levi turns (with some difficulty, considering his wife's very firm grip) to glare at him.

"She's a Mrs. now, you brat," he manages to snarl before the door slams shuts in his face.

==

Despite everything, they have a nice date.

It takes about four glasses of wine and a threat of bodily harm from Petra before he finally stops fretting about Ava—but, truth be told, the rest of the night goes as well as it possibly could have, considering.

"See, didn't you have fun?" Petra teases. There's a blush high in her cheeks from the cold and the wine, and with his thick coat wrapped around her slight figure, Levi figures she looks pretty damn adorable.

He grunts in reluctant assent, feeling unusually relaxed. It's been a long time since it was just the two of them, after all, and he's almost forgotten what it feels like without the constant stress of being responsible for a very small, very fragile human being who he loves with such fierceness that sometimes he feels as though his chest will burst.

He's still revelling in the niceness of it all—the cool night air, Petra's small hand in his—as they walk up to the door of their house. He's seriously contemplating if he should actually get Jaeger and Kirschtein something nice for their trouble—maybe a day off or something, he doesn't know—when he hears a sound that makes him freeze in his tracks.

Next to him, Petra stiffens. The sound fades momentarily, only to re-emerge with a vengeance, and there's no mistaking it: it's a scream.

Levi doesn't remember sprinting to the door and wrenching it open, his heart pumping so fast he can barely breath and Petra hot in his wake, but he supposes he does at some point because in a matter of seconds he's in the house, staring straight into the face of absolute chaos.

The living room is littered with toys and scattered pillows and, for some reason, a lone shoe. The stove is smouldering in a vaguely menacing manner, heavy smoke rising from the burnt remains of something completely unrecognisable. Meanwhile, their beloved daughter crawls quite cheerfully across the floor, beelining for Jean, who's slowly inching away on the ground, his face screwed up with equal parts terror and disgust. A familiar stink wafts through the room, and Levi instinctively wrinkles his nose.

And the perpetrator of the scream: Eren Jaeger, who's hunched over the basin, scrabbling blindly at the trickle of water from the tap, feverishly attempting to wash what appears to be spit-up out of his eyes.

Clearly, none of them have yet noticed their arrival.

"HORSE FACE, CAN YOU JUST MAN UP AND CHANGE HER DIAPER?" he shrieks across the room, his voice coming out noticeably higher than usual.

"WHY CAN'T YOU DO IT?" his comrade yells back, his eyes not moving from the effervescent infant, who giggles at the sound of all the shouting.

Behind him, Petra stifles a laugh.

"BECAUSE THANKS TO YOUR SHITTY BURP TECHNIQUE, I'M NOW BLIND, YOU—" The teenager proceeds to cuss him out quite colourfully, and Levi chooses that moment to intervene.

"What," he goes, lowly, "in the living fuck do you think you're doing?"

The effect is instantaneous, like the firing of a gun. Both boys instantly scramble to their feet and thump their fists to their chests in salute (Eren still blinking furiously).

Petra just giggles and strides across the hall to Ava, who's now babbling happily at the arrival of her parents. "Thanks for babysitting, boys," she goes, taking a cautious whiff of the baby's diapers and reeling at the smell. "Whew. I'll take care of this. Levi, be nice," she warns, before hoisting their daughter onto her hip and strolling away.

He can't help but notice there's a little amused bounce in her step, and his glower darkens.

"Captain—" Eren begins, but Levi lifts up a hand.

"I don't even wanna hear it," he barks. "You—for fuck's sake, go wash your face in the bathroom, the water flow is better there. And you..." he rounds on Jean, who gulps nervously. "You're dismissed. Just...go. Bye."

The boys slump over, looking at him with the big sad puppy eyes (although the effect of Eren's is somewhat diminished by his pained squint). And maybe it's the wine, maybe age or marriage or parenthood has made him soft, but he adds, with utmost reluctance, "Wait. Uh...thanks." He clears his throat. "Take a day off next week. If you want."

It takes a while for them to realise that it isn't a trap of some sorts (seriously, he doesn't get it; why do cadets always think the worst of him?), but eventually, he manages to shoo them off with wide eyes and thank-yous and maybe some mild trauma on Jean's part, but hey, this is the Survey Corps, after all. When he goes back to their bedroom, he finds Petra waiting for him, Ava sleeping peacefully in her arms, a mischievous, smug grin on her face.

"Don't even say it," he snaps.

Drabble challenge!

[petri808]

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Inukag Royalty Au

The shapeshifter hauled in a disheveled human male and forced him to his knees before his king. “Here he is your majesty.”

“Please spare me! I needed the money for my family.” The man begged.

“Great job Shippo!” Inutaisho thanked the kitsune yokai soldier. He then turned his attention to the human. “I am not swayed by your excuses, for I am sure if you’d gained such valuable information, King and Queen Higurashi would have rewarded you greatly for it, but instead you aligned with an enemy. Shippo, keep him sequestered until they arrive…”

In the Higurashi castle, parts of the building were kept off limits to staff under the guise that the Inutaisho and his family did not want to be disturbed because they didn’t know if there were any other spies lying in wait. The only ones allowed in were hand-picked, namely Sango as Kagome’s attendant and two others that both women agreed were loyal to her. Between the servants, they made sure the royal families were attended to. From the Inu’s side, Miroku served as a temporary help because he was human and could blend in easier. The subterfuge that started when they’d snuck Kagome back in on day one, held up very nicely.

The two royal families passed the couple of days in wait by getting to know each other better. Until now their dealings have been strictly business, so learning about each other’s personal sides would aid in creating a comfortable union. Even Prince Sota was taken with the extroverted Princess Rin, because he’d never had a younger sibling to play with before. Queen Higurashi couldn’t help but be proud as she watched her daughter continuing to tutor Rin even though Kagome would no longer be the child’s attendant, instead taking on a big sister role in guiding her development. The Queen lovingly teased about how wonderful a mother she’ll become soon enough. Of course, that kind of a statement left both Kagome and Inuyasha embarrassingly flushed, to the amusement of both sets of parents. Though in truth, she had thought about it, and was excited to start a family of her own with the prince.

It had been understandably frustrating to be kept sequestered for a few days now as they waited. Of course, her new husband and friends kept her occupied, but she couldn’t wait to be completely free to resume a normal life without fear. This whole mess was something Kagome was still processing. When she’d run away, she knew there was bound to be consequences, but never could have imagined this would be it. She still worried that Naraku would hurt her family, but Inuyasha and his father convinced her they’d never let it happen. The Inu kingdom was bigger, stronger, and the bastard King simply didn’t have a chance. As expected, scouts tasked with keeping an eye out for Naraku, notified the king and queen of his arrival by morning. The stage was set, and within the next 24 hours this whole nightmare would finally be over for Kagome.

When King Naraku arrived, he brought with him a small garrison of soldiers, a standard practice for protection. That alone told the Inutaisho, King Naraku still believed nothing was wrong. The foreign King, his personal guards, along with an advisor were the only ones to actually enter the castle itself, while the garrison were set up just outside of the walls and met by Higurashi soldiers. However, once Naraku was beyond their view, his entire garrison was surprised and surrounded by the Inutaisho’s forces before they knew anything had gone terribly wrong. A few soldiers put up a fight, but because the Inutaisho’s forces were made up primarily of yokai, the humans were outmatched and easily routed.

The foreign entourage was led into the throne receiving room where King and Queen Higurashi sat on their thrones. Flanking them were standard accompaniments, Prince Sota, guards, and the royal advisor off to the side.

“Ah, King Naraku,” King Higurashi acknowledged the man. “Right on time.”

“I’m not here for pleasantries.” Naraku huffed in annoyance that Kagome was nowhere in sight. I’m here to collect on our contract. Now produce your daughter at once!”

“My apologies.” It was bristling to be spoken to in such a manner, but King Higurashi played along just like they’d prepared for.

At the sound of Naraku’s voice, the Inutaisho and his son, Prince Sesshomaru stepped out from behind a veiling curtain, along with Shippo and a human male being held in chains.

Surprised and angered, Naraku went into a rage, acting as if he knew nothing. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Inutaisho stepped forward, glaring at the other King. “Deceit,” he growled back, “that’s what this is! How dare you intercept and intervene between our two kingdoms royal communications?!” he gestured towards the Higurashi’s.

“Tch!” Naraku narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! The marriage arrangement I have with them has nothing to do with you.”

Inutaisho’s eyebrow raised. “Oh? But it does. You recognized Kagome during your visit to my kingdom and realized something was amiss. And since the only people who knew about our children’s arrangement were us, including the amended contract, the only way you could have known of any changes is you secured a spy which we caught in this castle.”

“Are you accusing me of espionage?! I did no such thing! I am a King and yet you speak to me like a peasant! This is an outrage!”

“Shippo,” Inutaisho gestured for his guard to come forth. The kitsune yokai followed his ruler’s instructions, dragged the man in chains forward, pushing him down to his knees before them. “This man has confessed to taking money from you. He is your spy! Do you deny this?”

“Tch, it doesn’t matter if he was,” Naraku crossed his arms. “Spies are a part of our world. You of all people know that! Your son screwed up and my contract is still binding. You cannot stop my marriage to Kagome.”

“Yes, he made a mistake, but as for your contract, that is where you are wrong. There are always consequences when do such underhanded things. You see, as part of the Inu/Higurashi contract, the Inu kingdom swore to protect this one from threats. You threatened them with attack if they did not agree to the contact therefore evoking my response.” Inutaisho grinned menacingly. “Your spy may have given you information, but not the full details and that is where you messed up.”

“Bullshit!” Naraku took a step forward. “You can’t do that! You can’t stop this deal!”

Inutaisho’s grin widened. “It’s already done.”

Naraku’s jaw dropped, when Inuyasha and Kagome stepped out of a side door dressed in matching royal wear and crowns. Inuyasha stayed slightly forward of his wife just in case something happened, his hand readied upon the hilt of his sword. The princes eyes were crimson and his yokai markings on full display, showing he was ready and willing to do anything to protect his wife.

“They are already married,” Inutaisho spat at King Naraku. “Your garrison has also been captured.” He narrowed his newly crimsoned eyes in a death glare. “That just leaves you four. Now you have a choice. Leave quietly and never set foot in either kingdom ever again or die here and now. And believe me, I would be happier if you choose the latter.”

Naraku took two steps back, realizing he was completely outnumbered with no option but to comply. “I will have my vengeance,” he growled. “Outnumbered now, but I will get my revenge!”

“Then perhaps I should settle it now!” Inutaisho pulled out his sword in a rage, followed promptly by his son’s Sesshomaru and Inuyasha who’d advanced forward as well. “Tis but a long time since I’d had to resort to violence, but for you we will gladly do so! Kings like you are a disease in our world and are not fit to wear a crown! You have two seconds to comply or meet the end of my sword!”

“Your highness,” Naraku’s advisor stepped forward to address his King. “Inutaisho is right. We have no chance against his forces and must think about our own kingdom.”

“Listen to him,” Inutaisho growled. “Or I will subsume your little kingdom by force, just like you’d threatened to do to the Higurashi’s.”

Naraku shook his advisors hand off his shoulder in a huff, but he knew that man was right. It infuriated him to be so powerless. His hope of marrying Kagome was just the first step in a plot to eventually take over the Higurashi kingdom to expand his own. Now he’d never have that chance. “Fine,” he growled. There were other ways and other kingdoms to go after. “I’ll leave.”

“Remember,” Inutaisho glared, “one false move will end with death, now take your entourage and leave these lands for good!”

“And my garrison?” Naraku glared back unwilling to show weakness.

“Consider their capture as punishment for your crimes.”

More yokai guards were signaled for and led Naraku’s group out of the castle, and out of the territory. Kagome finally breathed a sigh of relief; this chapter was over.

[sapphicwhxre]

tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Falling Together Part I

Author’s Note: After receiving such kind words from Tall Tale, I had another idea that I ran with. There will be a part two, so if you want to be added to the tag list for this as well as future works to come, please let me know. 

Summary: You enter into an arranged marriage with Ivar, a marriage of convenience, but can you both come together to make it more?

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 3137

Warnings: Language, mild angst

"You need to fuck your wife, brother."

Those were the words that came out of Hvitserk's mouth after they had been sitting in silence. How he longed for better advice from Ubbe, but his eldest brother remained back in Kattegat with Torvi. They had parted as equals, peace finally coming to the sons of Ragnar. For Ivar, Kattegat held only pain and misery, so he had taken to the sea with a handful of ships and a map to Ireland, and once again Hvitserk had chosen to remain at his side. He didn't know what inspired such loyalty from his brother, but he was grateful for his company, most days. Today was not one of them.

"Are you listening, Ivar? I said--"

"Yes, I heard you," Ivar interjected before he could repeat himself. "I'm just choosing to ignore your advice."

Hvitserk shrugged as he pulled meat off of a chicken bone with his teeth. "Alright, but you know I'm right. She's going to want someone to warm her bed eventually, and she won't wait around for it to be you."

"Christian women don't like sex," Ivar said with a huff.

"Not the ones I've been with," Hvitserk said, smirking around a mouthful of meat. "They don't like sex with devout Christian men, but we are not such men."

Ivar frowned into his mug of ale as he thought about you. You were his wife in name only, an alliance forged with your father for lands in the first few weeks they had arrived in Ireland. The wedding had been small, in accordance with Viking tradition, not Christian. You weren't as devout as the Saxons of England, but you had insisted on keeping your cross.

There was no love in your marriage. At first you had appeared hopeful if not reluctant to be sharing in this union, but as many moons had passed, you'd begun to realize you were alone in your efforts. Ivar didn't hate you, even if you were a Christian, but he did not want to be in love again, not after Freydis. She was everything he had ever wanted, and she had betrayed him.

"Why the sudden interest in what goes on in my marriage?" Ivar said, setting down his mug as he watched Hvitserk.

"I'm sure King Conall will be starting to wonder about grandchildren soon," said Hvitserk, leaning back in his chair. "And you have a pretty wife. Others have taken notice already, and she might start to consider picking one. Women don't like to be lonely."

Ivar scowled, hating the apprehension his brother's words stirred up. "She is free to take a lover if she wishes." His voice wavered. Even he didn't believe himself.

"You have changed, Ivar, but not enough that I don't believe you wouldn't kill the man she was with."

Hvitserk wasn't wrong. He still lacked self-confidence as far as women were concerned, and he would take it as a personal slight if you humped some lesser warrior in his army. You never voiced any discontent in his presence, and Ivar was sure he would notice any man becoming too enamored with you.

He rose from his throne, a sudden need to get away from the doubts that the turn in conversation had brought up. Hvitserk looked at him with a grin while folding his arms back behind his head.

"Going to take care of your wife?"

"Be silent," Ivar grumbled. "My marriage is a solid alliance. There's nothing that needs fixing."

"If it's as you say, then forget what I said," said Hvitserk, returning his attention to his plate of food.

Ivar growled as he started for his chambers. He hated not getting the last word in, but nothing he could have said would've proven Hvitserk wrong. Truthfully, he knew little about you or how you spent your days. When he was preoccupied with the duties of ruling, you were off amongst the people, though not without a guard. Ivar was surprised that you had taken an active role in being Queen. Freydis never had, nor had his mother. Your father was a great King, and you must have studied under his exemplary tutelage. 

His crutch ticked down the corridor with each slow step, the damp causing his legs to stiffen. Ireland was greener than Norway, but the warmth of the sun would disappear for days behind a wall of grey cloud that brought heavy rain. The long torrents left him miserable with agony, something he fought to conceal from his men.

He leaned on the door as he came into his room, the fire low since the last time it had been tended to by a slave. The bed was empty. This had remained the same since the wedding night. There was a smaller room attached to his main chambers, meant to be used for any future children you birthed. Instead it had become your own personal wing, with no one growing wise to the fact that you slept away from your marital bed.

Ivar slept better alone. The space allowed for him to shift about if the pain became unbearable. Tonight was different. He couldn't keep his eyes from the door to your chamber, even as he eased himself down onto the furs. Reaching for his crutch, he rose again, letting out a low hiss as he forced his body forward. Just one peek would be enough to satisfy him. 

Ivar doubted you'd bring any man to your room, as it meant you'd have to drag them past his bed first. Hvitserk's comments had burrowed into his head however, and he needed to be sure. He eased his way through the door, and took a step into your space for the first time. It was a smaller room, not meant to be used as sleeping quarters for an adult, but you had made it into something personal. There was no hearth for a fire. You kept warm under a pile of furs, twice as thick as he needed. There you slept in the middle of the small bed, unaware as he watched this private moment of solitude.

You didn't appear to be in despair. A ghost of a smile sat on your lips. It was a look Ivar was familiar with, even if he hadn't been on the receiving side of it for some time. At first you had tried to smile for him, all attempts to forge a bond with your new husband. He didn't know when you had stopped trying, but now it was a smile you only reserved for others. You never referred to him by name anymore either. It was always 'My King' or 'My Lord', the latter of which he detested.

He breathed a sigh. This was not how he imagined his life would turn when he set out to new lands. There was still the desire to grow his father's legacy, and thus far his Kingship in Ireland was progressing much better than it had in Kattegat. He had been driven by blind ambition and false beliefs that he was anything other than a crippled mortal. The loss was humbling, and even with his new found success he refused to rest on his laurels. 

Now that his curiosity was satisfied, he pivoted back towards the door to leave. The thin light coming from the fire in his room illuminated the table beside your bed where you kept your cross. There was something else there as well, a small thing that stopped Ivar in his place. It was a hammer of Thor, whittled from wood and tied to a piece of twine. The craftsmanship was poor, but the meaning of it was something else entirely. Someone had gifted it to you, and you had kept it in a place within reach.

He wanted to inspect it further, maybe even take it back to burn it in his hearth, but he wouldn't risk Thor's wrath, or the chance that you could wake up. Hvitserk's warning about you taking a lover came back with a vengeance and had his stomach feeling like it was filled with rocks. He would have to sleep with this knowledge until he could question you about it, a conversation he did not desire to have. How to broach it would be more difficult still, and combined with the pain in his legs, Ivar found no rest that night.

ooOOoo

Ivar was behaving strangely. Your father had come to visit, which meant there was an unspoken agreement between you and your husband to behave cordially. You had done so many times when the situation called for you both to act as united rulers, but the efforts on your husband's part had never felt this...forced. 

During the feast his hand kept pawing for yours beneath the table until you gave up and let him cling to your limp fingers. He was attentive, patient, and even addressed you by name. You concealed your frown as best you could between bites of food. One glance down the table at Hvitserk and you understood that he was perplexed by Ivar's behavior as well. It pleased your father to witness such fondness from your husband towards you, and that had you holding your tongue. You would give your King an earful later.

"Daughter," Your father said, raising his arms to embrace you after you had managed to pry out of Ivar's iron grasp. "You are a smart match together, I am glad you are happy."

"Thank you, father," You whispered into his ear before parting.

"Might I see a grandchild soon?"

You flushed from what looked like embarrassment, but was actually shame. It was a constant hurt inside you, that you had failed to be desirable to your husband.

"Maybe, if we are blessed," You said evenly.

"I'm sure you will be. This is a successful alliance, and I have no doubt your union will be fruitful. We have a son of Ragnar on our side, that is no small thing, but remember you are my daughter, and you will always have a place in my court."

He placed his large hands over your shoulders, as he often did when you were a small child. His cheeks were flushed as red as his beard from drinking, and a merry grin was upon his lips. It had just been you and him for so long, after your mother had passed from sickness a lifetime before. You used to think you could tell your father everything, but now that you were a Queen, your loyalties had shifted to protect your husband and the integrity of your new settlement. 

With your practiced smile and a reassuring hand upon his arm, you eased whatever burdens he felt for giving you away to heathens. "I am well father, and my place is here with my people."

"Then I shall depart, and leave you with your husband."

"Hvitserk," You called, and he stood with uncoordinated abruptness. "Please escort my father and his men to the gates."

He seemed to understand your true intentions, shooting you a nod to confirm. You had grown fond of your brother-in-law in a short time, and had come to see him as someone you could rely on. He had no qualms about answering anything you wanted to know. If you had asked, he would have spilled every secret about Ivar as well, but you had refrained from going down that path. You would rather get the truth from the horse's mouth as it were, and now you were about to be alone with him.

Ivar's eyes did not lose the mischief behind them. They were cold blue, like the winters of his home you thought. But the patient smile you had been rewarded with at dinner had vanished, replaced with something shrewd.

"What are you playing at, husband?" You stressed the word as you steeled your stance against him.

"I'm not sure I understand, (Y/N). It is a husband's duty to dote upon his wife as he sees fit," He remarked while his hands gripped tight to the armrests of his throne.

"You can stop pretending now that we are alone. Lord knows I have," You mumbled the last bit, but Ivar had heard. Maybe you had wanted him to.

"Come sit, and talk with me," He said, indicating to your throne next to his. 

The seriousness of the request left you with little choice, and you gathered up your skirts while keeping your head high as you made your way beside him. There was a constant cloud of anger that seemed to follow your husband wherever he went, but you didn't think he would hurt you. Sometimes when he would look at you, a wave of sadness would fall over his face, and it was as if he was seeing through you to something else.

"What do you wish to speak of, My Lord?"

Ivar winced, but he recovered by bringing his hand down on top of yours. This again. You kept your hand still as he laced your fingers together, the roughness of his palm stroking against your soft one.

"Are you happy here?" He asked, and the hesitation in the question was tangible. 

"Yes. The people are content, and the settlement is thriving."

"That's not what I asked." His tone was curt and to the point. It seemed he wanted to discuss the nature of your marriage, but the timing of it was mysterious to you. "I know the people talk of an heir, as I'm sure your father also mentioned."

"The people will always talk, My Lord. All you have to do is listen and decide what's worth hearing," You said, feeling your fingers start to tingle as his grip held firm. "As for my father, he is as any old King would be. Anticipating a grandchild so that he can pass from this world knowing his blood will live on."

His brow was furrowed into a frown. "When we are alone, call me Ivar."

"Alright...Ivar," You said, sampling the feel of his name on your tongue. You hadn't addressed him as such since your wedding.

"If we had a child, would that make you happy?"

His eyes were downcast as he spoke, which you were glad for, as he didn't see how his words had embarrassed you.

"I never said I was unhappy," You remarked. "And I don't think a child is something we are ready for yet."

"Because we are not in love," He sighed.

"Well, yes and no. I always knew I would marry a stranger with whom I wouldn't be in love. But marriage is a tool to strengthen kingdoms, and spread prosperity to its people. If you have that, you don't need love."

His eyes scrutinized you with something indiscernible, and he let go of your hand. You thought that perhaps your words had hurt him, but you didn't know why. When you had first been brought forth by your father to meet with Ivar, you had thought he was handsome. Perhaps a bit too quick to act in anger, as you had witnessed during the meeting, but you had hoped he was a man you would grow to love. Months later, and you were sleeping in separate beds with your virtue still intact, so it frustrated you to see him be upset by what you had said. 

"Is that why you accept gifts from other men," His tone was harsh, and you thought he hated you then by the dark look in his eyes.

You jumped up from your throne, and rounded on him with fury. This marriage had insulted you long enough. "What are you accusing me of?"

He searched for something just beneath the collar of his tunic, and what he showed you was the hammer pendant of one of his Gods that hung from his neck. "I know you have one. Which man gave it to you? I will not have my reign tarnished by a whore Queen, not again."

Your stomach burned from the insult, and much of what he said you did not understand. His insinuation had stung, and you had little care for finding out about what he meant by 'again'. 

You pulled the small bracelet out of the sleeve of your dress. The twine was too short to be a necklace, but you wore it all the same because it was special to you.

"You mean this I presume. How you came to discover it, I can only assume you have entered my chambers without my consent."

"I'm your husband, and King, I don't need your consent," He shot back.

"Then let me tell you about the man who gifted it to me one day while I walked the market. His name is Einarr, a son of one of your warriors. He is eight years old, not even old enough to have an armring yet."

You took a small bit of satisfaction to see him struggle to retort. Whatever argument and claims he had built up against you in his head disappeared after your explanation. He sunk back in his throne, and you were pleased to see he had the humility to look guilty.

"Then why keep it hidden?"

"It's special to me, proof that even as a foreign Queen to your people, I can be respected. We haven't established a relationship to share such things," You exclaimed, everything that you had been holding back spilling out in an instant. It took a deep breath to calm yourself, to bring you back to the matters at hand. "I think we should stop...for now. Our alliance has thrived by us acting separately, and perhaps that is how it should stay."

"I regret the things I've said," Ivar hurried to say, his voice now thin from weariness. 

It was a small comfort, and you both knew it. "If there is nothing else, My Lord, I should like to retire?"

There was nothing he could have said in that moment that could have kept you there and not made you resentful, so with a wave of his hand, he dismissed you. 

When you were far enough away, you let your shoulders sag, and let out a quiet sigh of defeat. Despite how he had hurt you with his words, neither of you walked away the victor. The hill to surmount in your marriage had just become a mountain, and you weren't certain it could ever be conquered. Judging by the crashing and shouting coming from the Great Hall, Ivar's black mood had returned. Maybe he felt the same. You held the small wooden hammer in your hand all the way back to your chambers, praying to any God that would listen to guide you on your way to mending your marriage before it was too late.

Tag List

@blah-blah-fuckit-shit 

@tgrrose

[faejilly]

being by her seen

A series of scenes on motherhood in the Shadow Word for my @shadowhunterbingo​ square “Single Parent”

Imogen stood by the bier, kept her chin up and her face still.

She would not cry.

Would not scream.

Would not let a bit of her thoughts free, would not.

She had spoken her son's name in a steady voice, as if this wasn't any different than any other memorial she'd attended, no more important than any other ceremony she'd led.

As if the world was the same today as it had been before he'd died, as if the world hadn't ended, as if there was room for anything as useless as ritual in her heart.

Her son was dead, his child dead with his wife, nothing left, no one, nothing...

Nothing but vengeance.

Valentine would pay, if it was the last thing she ever did.

Every ounce of pain he'd inflicted, every atrocity he'd led... she'd feed it back to him, drop by drop by drop.

Ave atque vale.

Hail and farewell.

*

Jocelyn stared down at the pregnancy test in her hand.

There were other ways to find out, but this was private, mundane, something no one would notice.

This was positive.

She dropped the test, broke it under the heel of her shoe. She'd have to make sure to throw it out somewhere else.

She remembered the way black had filled her Jon's eyes...

She couldn't do that again.

She wouldn't.

Better to be alone, than to let Val...

Better to be alone.

Her hands settled on her stomach without her consciously deciding to put them there.

Not entirely alone.

But definitely better for the both of them, to get as far away from Valentine as possible.

*

Lilith stroked a single finger down the boy's shoulder, watched the black flakes of former skin fall away at the gentle touch.

He was asleep now, passed out from the pain, so he only shivered a little, no more screams, no more fighting.

He had such beautiful screams.

She inhaled, closed her eyes as she let it out again, as she let the smell of his blood, her blood, fade away.

There was still an acidic-sweet tang of angel as well, but not as much as there had been. She couldn't burn it all out, had to make sure she stopped just before it was gone.

Too little left, and he'd just be another demon-spawn, barely more powerful than all the Warlocks running around on earth, for all he had her blood in him, rather than just echoes of her power, her curse. Too much left, and Edom would kill him before he grew into his powers. She had to get it just right.

She wondered if the Nephilim who had helped make her boy realized what he'd wrought, had any idea what he'd given back to her.

She smiled, and waited for her precious gift to wake before she started again.

Mine own, at last, forever and always.

*

Elaine closed her bedroom door behind her, leaned back and pushed her head against the wood, hard, harder, harder.

She pressed her lips together until she could feel the shape of her teeth grinding together, until the tension in her neck was so high she was afraid she'd snap.

But silently.

That was the important thing.

Simon had been fussy all night, Becky too quiet, both of them missing...

They were both finally asleep, she couldn't wake them up. She had to hope that when they were asleep they could forget, for a little while, everything that they'd lost.

Everyone.

Elaine refused to open her eyes, refused to look at the bed she hadn't made properly in days, only one side messed up, only one side.

Her fingers curled, her nails digging into the grain of the door behind her.

Her nostrils flared as she tried desperately not to count the steps in her head, how far to get to the cabinet, how long to open it, to pull out the bottle...

It was just her, she couldn't...

It was just her, she couldn't.

She couldn't do this, not by herself, not without him...

She ignored the burn in her chest, the heat in her eyes, her throat, flushing across her chest.

Just one drink.

Just to help her sleep.

She'd get rid of it tomorrow.

She'd try again.

Tomorrow.

She just had to make it to tomorrow.

She opened her bedroom door, and walked back towards the kitchen.

She needed it. Just a little.

Just enough to make it through.

*

Maryse stood in their office, her hands clasped behind her back as she pretended to look out the window, as she pretended to care about anything happening here and now.

She didn't put her hands over her stomach, though it ached a little to deny the impulse, cold between the bones of her wrists.

She could pretend she didn't know yet, could let Robert go, as they'd considered, could let this charade of a marriage be over.

Would it grant her freedom, or would she fall from the precarious perch they'd built up after the Clave begrudgingly took them back?

She didn't deserve the freedom, she knew that, but she'd take it, hold it tight with both hands, because it meant her children were free, would survive, would outlast Valentine's legacy and the Council's bitter mercy.

But they hadn't made it public yet, because even though Robert had his mistress, he knew as well as she did how they'd bought their second chance from the Clave with Alec's life, with the facade they presented of a perfect, loyal, Nephilim family. They knew that taking one step outside of their assigned duties could mean they'd all fall, not just her.

They chafed, these chains that tied them together, but...

But wouldn't unlocking them be worse?

How far would she fall?

Would Alec and Isabelle fall with her, or would Robert be able to save them?

She closed her eyes, and swallowed. She couldn't let it all be up to Robert, couldn't count on him to save them all.

Especially not...

She let a sliver of her control slip, moved her hands where they wanted to be.

She couldn't risk her fall injuring the one that wasn't here yet.

She'd tell him she was pregnant again, and he'd stay. She knew he would, he'd understand his duty.

She'd pretend she was glad of it.

She had enough practice, after all.

She'd do what she had to do.

She always did.

*

Magnus brought the poor girl right over, as soon as he got her away from the Institute. Catarina almost fluttered about her apartment as she waited, though it hadn't even been a minute between his warning and his arrival, a portal swirling to life in the middle of Cat's living room.

She looked scared, barely even holding Magnus' hand, caught between wanting to hide behind him and from him, from the both of them.

"Madzie, right?" Cat dropped down to her knees without even thinking about it. "Are you all right?"

Madzie looked half a step away from bolting, but she firmed up her frown and nodded, and Cat's heart broke just a little more. She was so small, and yet she stood there all on her own, straight and strong and so damned young.

Cat could barely remember being a hundred, much less... what, five?

"Are you sure?" Cat asked again, her voice low, her magic warm between her fingers, her heart aching to reach out. "It's all right if you're not. We're here to help."

Madzie's frown shifted, as if she wanted to let it go, but didn't think she could.

Didn't trust that it was safe.

Cat knew that there was no real way to convince her, nothing besides time, but she wished...

She wished magic worked like that.

Only, maybe it did? Cat let her glamour go, so used to holding it she hadn't realized she'd left it up, and Madzie's eyes widened at the wave of blue appearing across Cat's skin. She reached out, and Cat carefully stretched her arm so Madzie could choose when to touch her, to feel the warmth of normal skin beneath her fingers, could see the contrast between the blue and dark brown.

Madzie sniffed, and something behind her eyes broke, and Cat almost fell over from the sudden weight of a child in her arms.

Cat wrapped her arms around her, swallowed against the urge to swear as Madzie started crying into her shoulder. Rather than risk startling the poor girl again, she just let her weight settle and waited.

Waited, as her heart grew heavy and her arms tightened and she realized she was never going to be able to let go again, not really.

She looked over her girl's head at Magnus, drowning in the same helpless heartbreak in his expression that she could feel in her own chest.

Only not quite the same.

Madzie was still just a girl to him, and Cat realized, looking at him, that she couldn't say the same. Her heart had chosen.

Madzie sniffed, and Cat kissed the top of her head, and when she looked up again it was to the sight of Magnus' eyes widening, somehow recognizing what had happened by the look on her face.

Congratulations, Mama, he mouthed, and Cat felt her eyes burn even as she smiled at him.

Thank you.

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Bloody is the path for revenge. An Oberyn Martell x GN!reader. Game of thrones Space AU.

#Writer Wednesday 05/05/2021

Thanks again to @autumnleaves1991-blog for this, I’ve never being this prolific in writing in my life and actually have been more consistent in it thanks to this

Summary: King’s Landing is a ruthless place, a big mass of a planet city where the less fortunate tries to survive in the lower levels and the rich thrives on the top playing their dangerous games. Many years ago, the Lannisters claimed the power from the Targaryens killing everyone in their way men, woman and children even if they were innocent of their family’s crimes; Ellia Martell and her children were amongst them, and since then his brother has tried to bring to justice those who ordered her killing. But you know there’s no justice in this world and if Oberyn tries to do anything to the Lannisters they will respond in violence and threatening his life. The life of the one you love the most

Word count: 4,4 k (One day I’ll write something short for Writer Wednesday but today it’s not that day)

Warning: Cannon divergence from the show and the books, violence, mentions of blood, shots, and explosions. +18 SMUT light descriptive sex (mention of penetration, orgasms and kissing but nothing too explicit)

A/N: What the fuck is this? You may ask, well I don’t know what to tell you, my friend. I swear I didn’t smoke anything writing this just thought how to twist a little the image we got for this week. I decided to change Ellia’s murder by the way, she’s shot dead, plain and simple, I’ve always been left with a terrible sensation every time I read/watched the show or books and they mentioned how she died. If you feel the same just know there’s no mention of rape in this or any kind of sexual violence. This is my first time writing for a gender neutral reader PLEASE PLEASE, let me know if there’s some mentions of the readers gender or something I have not seen. The only detail is that Oberyn is bigger and taller than you, the rest is pretty vague.

“Don’t leave me alone in this world”

“Never”

He says that but he kisses you as if it is his last day on earth. His plump lips force yours open until he’s caressing your mouth with his tongue. A moan resounds in his chest over yours and you feel you heart beating fast, he always ignites a fire inside of you as the blazing core of the earth burns and moves creating earthquakes and changing the shape of the earth. And he has change you, shape you into a different person, you’re wilder, more sure of yourself, passionate and freer, embracing all of you without shame. His love has burn you new as a phoenix. So because of it all, you cannot possible let him leave your bed, you cannot let him die or even come close to it. There’s no way.

You open your eyes when he separates himself from you and you see a sweet smile shining on his face, his eyes still close lingering in the pleasure of having kissed you, of being held in your arms, locking your hands on his strong and broad shoulders with the remaining heat between your bodies. You woke up crying, dreaming of blood and violence and before you opened your eyes, he was hugging you so tightly that all you could think and feel was him and his warm skin.

“My love” he whispered in your ear and then you turned desperate to kiss him to feel that he was still there with you

“I had a nightmare that you left me before I woke up” you cried and brought his weight over your body

“Shh, shh” he hushed and kissed your forehead “I’m still here and...” your lips cut whatever he was about to say and you held his handsome face in your arms and then you let your hands wander over his body: his tense muscles, his scars on his tanned skin, he tried to stop you feeling how your tears still rolled over your cheeks but you begged and plead “Love me please, please I need you in me” and he can’t refuse. You made love slowly, deep and precise thrusts, mouth over mouth murmuring sweet nothings and praises. You fell asleep as soon as he finished, feeling so full of him, so relaxed and warm, relishing in the heat he has left in you.

Hours later, you felt how he moved and that he was about to get up, but you reached for his arm and now here you both are, your nails pressing deep on his arms.

“Let it go, please. You can stay with me, find another way. I don’t want you to die”

“Today it’s not the day I die” he smiles at you fondly brushing his knuckles over your face

“You don’t know that” you shake your head, your voice sound squeaky “Those bastards don’t know what honor is, Oberyn, you keep thinking you will find justice. There’s no justice in this dreadful place”

“I will make my own and please, my love, don’t underestimate me. I know my enemy, I’ve known them since they decided to kill my sister and his children, observed them patiently and now it’s time for them to pay for their crimes” when he mentions his family his jaw clenches and his deep eyes somehow become darker glowing with sorrow and anger.

“We could think of other way...”

“There’s no other way”

King’s landing is a massive chunk of metal, of buildings that top one another until the city raises kilometers away from the ground, leaving a clear distinction between the lower levels where the poor people survive and the highest part where the elite look upwards always climbing to the sky above and the stars crushing and stomping on the less fortunate. You’re somehow in the middle of it. You live in a beautiful needle like tower, a golden palace called Sunspear, in the south part of the town from your apartment balcony the impressive domes of the Red Keep shine from afar and your stomach turns.

The gigantic castle is the center of all, a bleeding heart in the middle of the immense planet city and it harbors the Government, the Power, the Judge and Punisher of this terrible place: the Lannisters. A criminal family wrapped up in golden clothes, golden hair and melted gold in their jewels. But criminals nonetheless, just rose in the right moment and killed the right people; one of them your lover’s dear sister, Ellia and her children.

The late rulers of the city, the ones that conquered and settle on this earth on the first place, the Targaryens, ruled with an iron fist with their Dragons technology, metallic robotic beasts that surveyed, killed and control the city without the need of any man and soon only their shadow over the sky made people tremble and any thought of protest, criminal plans or illegal activities remained on the lower slums where they could not reach as freely.

But crime grows like an infection and soon enough there was a Targaryen king that thought that the end justifies the means and that there’s only one way to get rid of a putrid member; amputating it. So the Dragons did control the slums, burning them down to the ground. Those drastic measures had consequences and of course soon the protests against their cruelty grew stronger, and the protests leaded to insurrection and the Lannisters presented themselves as the golden saviors only to be even crueler than those they had usurped.

And those who were related in any way to the Targaryens were killed without a trial, like Ellia, trapped in the Red Keep by an unsatisfactory marriage to one member of the family. And Oberyn tried, ran to the castle to beg mercy for her innocent sister when the Coup succeeded but ended just collecting her corpse. “She was caught in cross fire” they said but her wounds were clearly a mark of an execution, and seeing himself alone in a chaotic world without allies and without enough power, Oberyn waited, observed and mourned, let his rage grow stronger and deep, a pain like thorns in his chest that even though it hurt, it didn’t compromised his kindness.

He found you in that state, a broken man with a warm smile like the sun, and you were a street rat, a slum orphan kid that lost everything even before you were aware of what family, love or possessions meant. You survived however you could, you were not proud of your beginnings, you were not proud of how you met him: trying to rob him.

“I don’t have much, love” he had said, not threaten at all of your weapon pointed at his chest

“You’re one of those top bastards, of course you have. Give me your rings” you blurted. He complied with a smile and tossed the golden rings to you; but the one on his thumb. “All of them” you spat

“This one, if you please, I’d like to keep. It was a gift from somebody that it’s not longer with me” he said and something in your chest moved after years and years of creating a hard armor over your feelings.

“Alright, now empty your pockets” you said bending down to gather his rings and in that he moved faster than you had seen anybody react and in a swift movement he got you cornered on the wall and disarmed.

“You have to always choose your opponents wisely, my sweet” he said really close to your face. You moaned, tried to think that the sound coming from your mouth was out of fear and his bigger and heavy body over yours, but deep down you knew that his amber perfume, his deep voice and those eyes had awaken something else in you. “You look positively famish and neglected of many things, my sweet. Come with me” And you did and you will always follow him since that day. But today he has chosen a path that you cannot keep. Today your fears had come true, you have always think that your love could cure him, that it could be stronger and enough to calm his need for vengeance. But it is not.

History tends to repeat itself and now the Lannisters are suffering the same fate they created for their predecessors. They’re in their lowest point and they’re destroying themselves from within, betraying their own family members, and when Oberyn saw this as his perfect chance to finally plot his vengeance, you saw that dark pain eating the light, the love, the passion and the kindness, dominating everything else that was in his heart. Now he only sees vengeance and the cold blade of justice cutting their throats.

The sun pierces the pollution and the clouds in an orange and pink palette announcing the beginning of a new day and the trial starts at midday. They’re accusing Tyrion, the youngest of the Lannisters’ siblings, and demanding the death penalty for killing the heir to the throne. And Oberyn in a surprising turns of events has accorded to represent him on the trial or that’s what everybody thinks. The oldest law in the planet, one settled since Aegon Targaryen, the conqueror, is that a defendant can have a final statement before his sentence and everything he says in that moment must be taken in to account if he, by any chance, confesses other crimes or accomplices in the crime being judged.

Oberyn could never bring Ellia’s murder to justice but if Tyrion confesses that he heard his father give the order to kill Ellia and her children then he cannot be killed until that crime is investigated and judged thus saving, for the time being, his life and giving Oberyn the chance of presenting his case against those who killed his family. In a fair world, that could work. But you know his honor and idealism clouds his judgment, they will never let Tyrion confess in public how they ordered to kill innocent children in cold blood, they will never let Oberyn win. They’re desperate now, less concern about their public image and much more drastic in their measures; another thing they have now in common with the past rulers. They’ll do anything to remain in power, and those little legal tricks won’t be enough to stop them. They will take any means necessary to remain in power. Anything.

“We should be going, sir” the security guard announces from the digital pad on the door

“My love” Oberyn adjusts his tunic, an old gold fabric that resembles the million sun panels that covers Sunspear and he looks as the sun, he warms your life, gives you the energy to wake up and you wish this sun, your sun, never sets and leaves you in the dark “If you don’t want to come, I’ll understand”

You run to him and grab his forearms “I will never leave you. I’ll be there as long as you need me”

Weeks before the trial

Even though you’ve climbed on the social ladder and also in a literal way, you are and you will always be a street rat, a lower scum and in that you know many like you. And they’re useful, you know people that could do anything, that know how to find anything or anyone. The lower levels are a wild jungle of metallic junk, holograms screens selling whatever you wish for and dangerous people. But you know your way there and navigated the streets until you found what you wanted.

“So it’s pretty damaged, I had to reprogram everything and search for parts anywhere and those I didn’t find I had to customize” Chips explained uncovering the thing inside his garage. Chips is your friend, shared the same dirty full of lice bed in the orphanage, he didn’t have a name and was given one by the caretakers but preferred the nickname you gave them. He was always since he was a little kid playing with some wires, chips and computers parts and now he had created a place in the slums, mainly because of what he did it’s not really legal. He hacks technology, can get himself inside any web, any software and devastate any system he wants. He does it all in this dirty garage, lighted in neon lights that you don’t know you he stands it, every wall is covered in screens, old technology and devices you don’t understand.

“You know anything you need I will pay double, Chips. I need this working properly, it’s extremely important” you said

“Thank you, Chips” you nodded

“And it will, you will have complete control over it on your holo bracelet” he assured and gave you the small black device that you tied around your wrist “When it is time, you just have to activate it” and he showed you the control app on the floating screen over your hand

“Do you really want to do this? You can’t control the consequences once you active it” he asked eyeing the thing with a worried look

“The consequences if I don’t use it will be far worse”

The trial

“Father, I wish to confess” the short blond man says on the stand, he’s secured inside a protection field that is otherwise invisible except when the neon lights from the ceiling hit it and it shines with a bluish light.

The hundred something audience member gasp in unison and you know the whole city has had the same reaction whilst watching in it live stream in the millions of holoscreens around King’s Landing.

“I didn’t kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had” he spats and the people present scream and insult him. Oberyn stands by his side and you cannot see his face from your seat in the grandstand but his fists are clenched and his posture is tense. “He was a vicious demon, a murderer and sadist as every member of this family”

“Tyrion if you do not wish to confess this is useless” Tywin Lannister, the patriarch, moves in his seat uncomfortable.

“As I was saying, father, he was a murderer like his family, like you” people rise from their seats now, you stay in your little corner while the crowd waits for the rest of the confession with their mouths wide open “You ordered, years ago, to kill in cold blood innocent people, you ordered your beast” he points to the corner of the big throne room where the tallest man you’ve ever seen stands among other guards “to kill every woman, children or baby that was related to the Targaryens, servants or noble; like Ellia Martell and her children”

“Silence!” Tywin raises from his seat, his pale skin is red, a sharp contrast to his all black tunic “Take the prisoner back to his chamber until a sentence has been declared”

“Wait!” Oberyn walks towards the center of the scene with his hand raised “The defendant has confessed being witness to a crime, by the old law of Aegon, the conqueror; he cannot be put to sentence until that crime has been judged. And you, Lord Tywin, will have to address those accusation in a proper trial” You see from the corner he has a smirk on his face while the older man glares at him with his eyes full of hate.

“Isn’t it that convenient for you?” Cersei Lannister cries from her seat, the mourning mother has been quite the whole trial but her eyes red and weeping had been fixed on her brother and now Oberyn with the same anger. “You’ve spreading those lies and accusations for years and now you conspire with my murderer brother to hurt my family” her voice break and the audience gasps again clearly entertain with this turning of events

“Accusations that now have to be clarified in a trial as it was always dismissed by your authority” Oberyn responds pointing with his finger to the whole Lannister court

“It was a time of war, an unfortunate accident” Tywin hisses

“Well now you could prove it and end those accusations, don’t you?” Oberyn smiles wildly but it feels like more like a viper openning its mouth to show you its weapons before biting.”I demand that the defendant is released from your custody and it will remain with me until trial”

“That’s surprising, are you accusing us of plotting to hurt him in anyway?” Tywin tilts his head to Oberyn, challenging him, and you know he has something in mind. You’re so tense that you don’t realize you were not breathing until your chest hurts. You activate your holobracelet looking at the small bottom waiting for the perfect moment.

“I’m saying he’s accused of a heinous crime and clearly has gained the hatred of the people, being here could make it really easy for anybody to hurt him while on custody. So I suggest a secured and secret location for the moment”

“Tyrion has the means to escape and leave the planet; we could not possibly let him go” says an old man from the Council

“He will remain in the Red Keep” Tywin states

“I think I still have my right to testify, father” Cersei raises from her seat with a coy smirk

“You can give a final statement, yes” he agrees

“Oberyn Martell has agreed to defend my brother from this terrible murder, has been seeing with him before in very dubious places and now he accuses us of murder and plot to kill a prisoner in custody in order to keep Tyrion on his care. I think it’s fair to think that he could have some interest in this, maybe even be part of a larger plot against us, he has always hate our family for a crime we didn’t commit”

The uproar in the room is way stronger this time, some assistants can’t even be kept on their seats, and the guards form a line between the grandstand and the platform were the trail is taken place. You move, your heart beats are loud in your ear, as you go down the stand closer to where Oberyn stands.

“I firmly believe we should have a line of investigation on this, so you, Oberyn and your client should stay on the Red Keep until everything is clarified” Tywin doesn’t hide his pride. You knew that this will happen; they have neither honor nor a care for justice. And you knew they will find a way to hurt him if he ever became bolder in his way to get justice for his sister.

Oberyn is screaming something but you cannot hear him with all the crossed accusations and the audience, but the guards had walked towards him, they’re moving Tyrion from his stand and cornering your lover.

“Raise your hands, sir” they scream at him “Calm down”

You know their tactics, you know that any movement he will do can justify that they shot him down or hurt him. If he raises his hands they can say he was about to punch them, if he doesn’t he didn’t comply. Anyway Oberyn’s life is threatened. So you know it’s time.

You open the hologram screen on your bracelet and tap on the small logo with trembling fingers, until the screen shows an ACTIVITED sign in green.

You were a small child, probably a baby when you were met with one of those things, so you don’t remember how silent they are. It was made like that so they could strike any possible threats without given them the chance to escape. So the dust hits you first, before you or anyone could hear it. The right wall of the throne room collapses and you see the screens and the wires and the metal breaking and the ancient brick walls inside of them. A blazing sun hits second, a red and orange light until you feel the heat. That’s not the sun. It’s fire.

The beast enters and now you can hear it, its motors propel it inside the room and in doing so completely destroy the west side of the Keep. It actually looks like a dragon; a fearsome large metallic face spitting fire but the rest of its body is a triangular black shape more like the commercial flight transports but way bigger.

The clouds of dust makes it impossible for you to find Oberyn, you just hope he hasn’t been hit by the debris in the explosion.

“Oberyn” you scream and cough

You find some guards on the ground some of them evidently dead others are just knockout, and in the middle of it you find him, he had protected his head with his arms, his golden attire is dusty but you don’t see signs of bleeding. You bend down and try to get him up, but he’s heavy

“Come on, my love, we have to go!” he doesn’t respond and your heart skips a beat what if you killed him trying to save him?

But he coughs softly at first and then louder and raises his face confused and wander his eyes until he finds you “We have to go Oberyn, come on” he moves slowly but you gather strength and get his arm over yours and push him towards the abyss on the west wall. And you jump.

Being a slum rat you had always fear being on the top of the buildings, never actually looking from the border of the balcony when you moved with Oberyn, but now you jumped with your eyes closed, holding his body, the body of your lover, your whole life tightly against yours. For a moment you feel the emptiness of space and air until your body hits something hard.

“We have to fly faster; I think the whole building is going to collapse” Chips helps you take a seat on the flying car and you secure Oberyn on the seat beside you. He’s still dazed so he doesn’t say a thing; clearly he doesn’t understand what’s going on. You hope that you hadn’t inflicted some brain damaged. Chips speeds up the vehicle going in a sharp line downwards making the rest of the traffic move to let you pass and avoid a crash.

“We will have to hide on the slums for a moment” he screams over the speed breaking the air

No brain damage, his eardrums are broken but they will heal fast with the drugs Chips has bought in the dark market. He has a great concussion on his back and some scratches on his face, legs and arms. But he’s alive and well. You wait on a very uncomfortable chair looking at him, his tall and broad body doesn’t fit in that small cheap bed but for the moment it will have to do. He has been sleeping for a few hours now and when you’re about to doze off, he coughs trying to call your name.

“Sh, sh, calm down my love” you say when he tries to get up “Drink some water” you serve him in a plastic cup and approach the bed

“What?” he screams and contorts his face once he feels the pain

“Your ears” you pronounce every syllable so he can read your lips “Rest now, it will heal in a few hours”

He drinks looking at you confused over the cup and lies down again but he looks at you intently “what have you done?” he murmurs

You sleep a few hours, Chips keeps doing his thing drinking too much of those energy drinks. At least twenty screens shows different news reports, the images of the trial and the “terrorist attack” as they’re calling it thereafter.

“What have you done with it?” you ask

“I programmed it to self destroy after you deactivated it. Too dangerous on the wrong hands” he explains

“And who are you referring to with “wrong hands?” a deep and husky voice says behind you.

You see the horror in his eyes when he watches the images of the Dragon entering the throne room and burning and destroying everything on its way.

“Oberyn” you whisper

“What have you done?” he asks again, his brown eyes glow in tears

“I did what I have to do” you simply shrug “I couldn’t let you get yourself killed, those people were about to lock you on the Red Keep and next thing I know they will give me your dead body back as they did with your sister” your voice cracks once you try to approach him and he recoils in fear

“You’ve killed innocent people” Oberyn lets his body hit the wall and you see his legs shake still too weak to stand

“They were enjoying that mockery of a trial seeing a poor man being sentence to death” you defend

“And now they’re all dead”

“We’re still waiting for the reports but...”Chips adds but shuts it once you both look angrily at him

“Oberyn” you come close your hands open to him, begging to touch him but he shakes his head

“Oberyn please” you say again

“No” he refuses and now you see he’s crying, his shoulders shake and he covers his face on his hands

“Then listen to me” you face him still letting him have his space “I couldn’t live in a world where you’re not with me. I knew they will try to kill you and I felt powerless, I had to do something, I have to save you as you saved me years ago. I love you, Oberyn, more than my own life, more than my heart, my eyes and my soul and if I have to burn empires to the ground for you, I will and I did”