#fate willing we all find peace

[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART TEN

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief mentions of death/blood, gaz being a little shit, foreshadowing idk but we gettin into it masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“You need new clothes.”

You glanced down at the loose fabrics swallowing your body.

You’d grown a routine of wearing various pieces of the men’s clothing apart from Ghost, given that your own clothes weren’t much to wear at all. They were old and dirtied, practically useless against the changing seasons of the chill that began to shift in the wind.

“We’ve got to stop on the Mainland, gather a few things for travels,” Gaz continued, eyeing the lousy clothes. “Would you like to shop for somethin’ new?”

“Really?” you asked bashfully.

It would be nice to have something of your own, something that was yours. While you weren’t doused in riches and gold back in your village, you had clothing that was to your own comfort and liking.

Men’s clothing was itchier than you liked, even with finer cotton.

“‘Course,” he assured with a warm smile. “Not that it’s not a bit humorous seein’ you wear our clothes for the time bein’, but I’m gettin’ sick of washin’ double the clothes.”

You smiled back at him, feeling a comforting warm burn through you. Gaz may have had his reservations in the beginning, but he was certainly becoming the most welcoming.

At the start, you thought he was cold, just as the rest of them. He was crude with the way he spoke, voice full of venom whenever he’d spoken to you, which was rare. Now, there was an underlying comfort, as if he felt the need to watch over you.

It wasn’t unwelcome, and was rather preferred. If you were going to be willed into this life of deadly chaos by no choice but Price’s own, then having somebody watching your back was certainly something you wouldn’t refuse.

“Clothes would be nice,” you sighed. “Thank you, Gaz.”

“No need,” he dismissed with a hand. “Consider it a loan. I get you new clothes, you owe me next time.”

“Next time?” You deflated, shoulders dropping. “I have no money to return to you, Gaz. Nor anything of consistency.”

Gaz laughed lightly, a hearty laugh that you always found contagious. It was full of life, lovely even.

The brief memory of him mentioning being a prince in his previous years always seemed to make its way back into your mind when you heard it. It wasn’t loud or boisterous like Soap’s, nor quiet and gruff like Price’s. There was a something more proper, more articulated when he laughed.

“You expect clothes for free, dove?” he teased. “I may be a gentleman in practice, but I’m still a pirate. Perhaps we can come up with a negotiation.”

“I have never been good with those,” you confessed with a heavy sigh.

“Mm. Let me think, then.” Gaz’s finger tapped mindlessly at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed in false concentration. As if a light bulb popped in his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I will gift you coins for clothes as well as a few for our agreement. Once we’re on the Mainland, you go off and find me somethin’ I’ll like. If I don’t like it, then you must owe me for the clothes.”

You gawked at him, eyebrows furrowing. Gaz only smiled at you cheekily, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“That sounds less like a negotiation and more of a game that I am bound to lose,” you said flatly. He snickered.

“C’mon, birdie. Don’t you like games? Everyone does.” He leaned in close as if to mock you, hunching down to your level. You could feel his warm breath fan over your nose and cheeks.

The sudden proximity made you tighten up at the abruptness, taking a step back. His eyes flickered to your feet before back up at you. Something mischievous oozed from him, and it felt like Soap was the one teasing you rather than Gaz.

Why were you so flustered? Was it due to the absence of light-hearted mockery that you’ve now forgotten what it felt like?

“Okay, okay. I will find you the most brilliant gift on the Mainland,” you bragged, attempting to come off aloof.

Gaz’s smile grew, though he didn’t step away from you. “Excellent.”

You watched as he finally moved, straightening up. He radiated a boyishness, one you didn’t see often, so you allowed him the advantage. The two of you were growing friends, or at least that’s how it felt. You didn’t want to lose that feeling.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Price ordered his men. He said it with such warning, as if you weren’t standing amongst them.

It made sense, though you felt like a child with a leash on. After all, the last time you joined them on the Mainland, you ended up in a heated game of hide and seek with the soldiers you so stupidly entrusted.

Ghost stood silent, eyes peering over the side of the ship and to the faint view of the bustling town sitting several hundred yards away. He seemed on edge, more than he normally was, but you could only tell so much from his stiff body language.

You followed his view, squinting. The Captain decided it was best to dock the ship on a farther pier, away from the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. Nobody would notice them unless they went searching.

“Aye, Cap,” Soap and Gaz synchronized.

Price glanced at Ghost, who shifted his focus off of the land and to his Captain. He gave him a curt nod, and seeing that Price was satisfied, the five of you began to head off.

Ghost was in charge of you this time, much to your dismay. It was evident Price was still weary of you running off, and it seemed Ghost was his most trusted candidate for the job.

The walk towards the busy town was quiet apart from Soap and Gaz speaking quietly behind you. You tried to listen in, but it seemed Soap had a keen sixth sense because before you knew it, his hands cupped over your ears, shielding you from the chatter.

You could very faintly hear Gaz snickering, so you frowned to yourself, disappointed.

You always wondered what they all spoke about when you weren’t around. It always felt like there was this lingering whisper in the air that spoke a language you didn’t understand.

The maps, the poem, none of it made sense to you and nobody was offering answers. Even when you tried to shush it in your mind as it played on replay, it never quite left. It was always in the corner, waiting to return once things got too quiet.

Glancing at Ghost from beside you, he gave no indication of… anything, really. Even after all this time, he was still an impossible read. He stood tall as always, walked with an edge to him, and kept his eyes forward.

You’d never met somebody so confusing yet utterly frustrating at the same time. One moment, he gave you hopes of a bright future on the ship—getting along, finding solitude in one another, empathizing understanding.

Yet as quickly as those feelings would come, they’d be squashed with a mere glare. A burning fire. Something reserved.

You didn’t think he understood himself, either.

When you came to the bounds of the town, Price stopped you. He glanced up at the sky, eyes squinting at the brightness on his retinas, before looking back.

The sun blared down on you from directly above.

“Return here when the sun falls to the west. If anythin’ happens, and I mean anythin’,” he paused, meeting your eyes before shifting back to his men, “then you run back to the ship and signal the bell. Am I understood?”

You really hoped Ghost was good with directions, or at least had a compass. You weren’t sure how to read the time through the sun’s positions. It was never a necessity before when you knew that it was nighttime when the moon came out to play.

You looked back at the ship that was now in the distance. It floated mindlessly along the lapping waves, bobbing back and forth as if saying hello.

The men confirmed with Price. Just as you were about to join them as they trudged on forward, Price stopped you with an arm held out, blocking you from walking.

“You aren’t goin’ to run off on me again, are you?” he asked quietly, though there was that familiar touch of authority to his tone. It wasn’t malicious, but you knew the implications—he wanted to trust you.

“No, sir,” you assured with a shake of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you dared to look at Ghost, who was impatiently waiting if the tapping of his fingers on his crossed arms meant anything. “I won’t do such a thing.”

The Captain kept his arm up for a moment so he could look at you. His eyes searched yours, so much so it made you flustered.

“Good.” He nodded. “Go along, then.”

He dropped his arm, letting it fall to his side. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply cleared his throat and gave you a farewell with a nod.

You watched him leave, disappearing into the swarm of shopping townsfolk. Curiosity festered you like a tick, itching into your skin, but you knew it was best to leave it be for now.

“You comin’?”

Ghost snapped you out of your spell. You quickly came back to reality, offering a quick nod before jogging to catch up to him, sticking to him like glue as you entered the town.

It was loud and overwhelming as you followed Ghost around. He made haste with purchases which ranged from stock for food to new knives that glinted tauntingly at you in the light, all of which were shoved into the bag thrown on his shoulders.

You knew people were staring. Even if they were directed towards Ghost and his eccentric appearance, it felt like they were watching you for even being associated with him.

The whispers between women about it being scandalous, the chatter between men who felt imposing threat from Ghost merely standing there.

You didn’t know why, but a part of you felt more defensive than humiliated. Your image was one mocked for the entirety of your lifespan, but Ghost had done nothing to warrant it. Not to them, anyway. To you was a different story.

None of that mattered now, though. You were growing increasingly irritated at being looked upon like a circus act.

“Ignore it,” Ghost muttered. You almost didn’t quite catch it. “I can feel you gettin’ huffy.”

You scowled, crossing your arms and turning your head. Ghost paid you no mind, continuing to browse in the small shop you were in.

“I am not huffy,” you mumbled.

Ghost paused, turning his head towards you. He stared, eyes flickering over your face—first to your furrowed eyebrows, then to your narrowed eyes, then down to your lips tugged into a frown.

He snorted quietly through his nose, returning to his browsing.

The sound made you turn your head. Dare you say it sounded amused, though it could be your ears deceiving you.

You decided to ignore it. The last thing you wanted was to bring it up and have him reserve back to permanently scowling.

Ghost straightened up from the various knives he was looking at, uninterested. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

“Need anythin’?” he asked, sniffing.

You perked up, hand coming to rest on the small pouch resting on your hip. It contained the coins Gsz gifted you for clothing, as well as the surprise gift he requested of you.

Nothing came to mind on what to get him. You were clueless, and really didn’t want to owe him.

“Gaz was generous enough to give me coins to buy my own clothes,” you explained, shaking the pouch. Coins within the bag clanked together.

Ghost glanced down at the pouch. “I see,” he hummed, a touch of confusion in his words. Almost as if he was surprised.

He gestured with his head to follow him. The two of you left the quaint shop, stepping back out on to the dusty road. Ghost didn’t move from the entrance, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.

A silent question. He was allowing you to make the choice on where to go.

Looking around, you realized you knew close to nothing about shopping for clothes. Not of these kind, anyway. You were used to the muted, colorless fabrics that never seemed to fit quite right.

You decided on a shop that displayed a variety of different clothes and colors in the windows. Some looked too delectable for your taste, and much too expensive, while some were more simple.

Stepping inside, the sight was positively overwhelming. Colors of all kinds lined the walls. Stuffed mannequins were pinned together with dresses.

Ghost seemed severely uncomfortable. You were elated. A taste of your own self was hidden somewhere within these walls, and you were going to find it.

“Go ahead,” Ghost gruffed from beside you. He shifted on his feet, eyes averting to nowhere. “Not my thing.”

You hummed in response, leaving to browse on your own accord. If Ghost didn’t seem to mind, then you wouldn’t rush yourself.

You took your time. You went through everything you can think of—greens, blues, purples, reds. None seem to fit you. Or more so, you wouldn’t fit with them.

Neutrals were their friends. Browns, grays, anything above the stars. So, naturally, that’s what you went for. Something to fit in and not stand out. You were facing that enough as is.

Once you focused your preference, you found quite a few options and went with what felt best.

Ghost watched you with muted curiosity as you fluttered around the store with a heap of clothes in your arms. He only looked away once he was caught.

As you were about to call your search a success, a glint of gold in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A beautiful miniature telescope sat locked away in a glass case, made from dark wood and detailed with an exquisite gold design.

The sight of it instantly reeled you in.

It was the perfect gift for Gaz. You came to learn that he had a love for the moon and stars, often leaving the room late at night to ponder beneath them. You knew you wouldn’t lose your game if you got it for him.

The only issue was that the price was hefty.

You looked down at your strew of clothes, contemplating. The coins in your pouch would be enough for your clothes, but not for the telescope as well.

The telescope called out to you, like a secret siren’s song pulling you into captivity. It chose you, and you chose it back.

Ultimately, you graciously returned some of the fabrics back to their original areas, leaving them tidy and neat. You approached Ghost with nothing more than a few clothings items, enough to get you by.

You were never materialistic anyway.

Ghost stood, silently observing but feigning disinterest as you made the big purchase for your clothes, then requested the telescope. He made no comment, eyes following your every move as you emptied the contents of your pouch, the coins clanking along the counter.

The merchant was happy to sell it to you, claiming that nobody seemed interested. You were pleased to hear that, and with a quick and easy exchange, the clothes and telescope were yours, placed carefully into Ghost’s bag.

“Is that it, then?” Ghost huffed, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded, satisfied with your purchases as you set off along the old roads to return to the rest of the crew.

As you walked, your eyes ventured along the way, taking in the varying crowds. Some mothers, some fathers, some alone on their own journeys. None paid you any mind.

Until one did.

A man. Not as tall as your crew, but certainly as threatening. His entire aura would be misty black if it was visible to the naked eye. His hair was a cropped mess on his head, brown like the dirt beneath your shoes.

His skin was scarred and tainted, dark eyes piercing into you. Even from a distance, you feared you’d combust into a bloodied, explosive mess just from the sheer look he gave you.

The worst was his smile. Cocky. Arrogant. Evil.

If death were a man, this would be its vessel.

His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. He was too far away. It wasn’t until the wind bristled, rising goosebumps along your skin did you hear it. His voice traveled along the breeze until it whisked to your ears, flooding through.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove.”

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

[ficmenrhot]

Finnick’s trauma and comforting him:( /angst/

TW: mentions of forced prostitution and description of some gore and violence, a little bit of self hatred, talking about traumatic events

A/N: to all those survivors and victims of traumatic events, I’m proud of you…and this is a reminder that your loved ones are always willing to listen. Also, this is quite long so buckle up!

————————————

I think it is pretty much common knowledge that Finnick Odair has some deep trauma from his time in the games and past. Although most victors of the Hunger Games suffered the same fate, Finnick was caught in Snow’s grasp too young..too vulnerable. He was forced to participate in the 65th Hunger Games at only 14-to kill others for survival- and when he won, thinking that all the suffering would be over then, he was threatened to become a prostitute at 16, otherwise his loved ones would be slaughtered- in which they did.

Finnick tries so hard to put on a facade in front of the Capitol- when he attends shows and interviews- and he does an amazing job at that. He tries so, so hard to remain strong for you too…to try and convince you that he really is alright by lying that his past no longer haunts him. He wants to assure you that he is stable because he is afraid of becoming a burden to you, afraid to be pushed away or feared by you because of his ‘problems’. The last thing he needs is to have the last person he loves vanish from his life.

However, at times, the stresses and memories just come flooding back to him and he finds himself breaking down.

Sometimes at night, you’ll be awoken by the soft sobs of Finnick crying, and seeing him in that state just absolutely destroys you…as if a thousand knives to your heart.

His back is facing you to avoid having you see his teary face, quietly sniffing into a pillow in his arm. He looks so vulnerable…almost like he’s fourteen all over again, and your heart throbs at the sight of your love- usually so big and strong- breaking down into pieces.

“…F-Finnick, my love?” You whisper ever so softly, sitting up against the headboard as you place a your much smaller hand on his shoulder.

Finnick turns at you, his eyes red and tears welling up at his waterline, long lashes wet and cheeks a little flushed from crying. He blinks, wiping away his tears, voice raspy as he says apologetically,

“Honey….I’m so sorry I woke you up.”

This man. He’s breaking down and he is so selfless that he apologises to you for experiencing valid emotions?!

“Oh Finnick, why are you apologising? It’s not your fault..you know it never is. Was it the nightmares again?” you ask gently with sympathetic eyes.

You have no idea what Finnick had to go through in the Hunger Games or any idea of what it is like to have your body sold but whatever it feels like, you know it must be terrible…so painful and terrible for somebody as strong as Finnick to be shattered. And you wouldn’t even have to think for a second to do anything at all -to kill or to sacrifice your own safety- just to share half of Finnick’s pain….to lift the weighs off his shoulders.

“My love, would you like me to hold you?” It is the least you can offer.

Finnick sniffs quietly and nod, moving closer to you to lay on your chest. Your fingers delve into his golden curls, playing with his hair as it is one of your favourite ways to calm him down. The two of you find peace in the silence before you ask softly:

“Would you like to share what happened, Finnick? Or we can talk about it when you feel better and just cuddle back to sleep…whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”

Finnick is quiet for a few moments before he blinks and rubs at his wet lashes, “..it was…it was another nightmare. I had to kill the last tribute…a young girl from district 11. She was only a few years older than me…forced into the Games too…and I had to k-kill her to win…” His voice cracks as a tear rolls down his cheeks, and you wipe it away with your thumb, nodding as you listen attentively.

“It was terrible…the look on her face when I stabbed her with my trident…I can still remember her shrill screams, the look of betrayal on her face…the way her body thudded to the ground with blood soaking up her wetsuit.” Finnick begins to sob once more.

“Shhh..shhh” you coo, stroking Finnick’s cheeks as you attempt to comfort him.

Finnick shakes his head, breath hitched and uneven as he sobs in your hands, and the heartache of seeing him like this nearly eats you alive.

“I…I’m disgusting…I feel impure….and with what Snow did to me…”

“…the things he made me do…I feel disgusting....”

Prostitution is something you know of Finnick’s past, but it is a topic he has never really opened up on until this moment. You never forced him or questioned him about it because you know it is an event of great trauma to him.

You can only stroke Finnick’s hair to sooth him and hold him tightly in support as he continues, feeling both sympathy and proudness that he is able to open up about this topic.

“No matter how much I try to wash myself, to scrub my skin and submerge myself in soap, I can still smell the sickening scent of Capitol perfumes. Sometimes…I feel sorry that I can’t be a better partner for you sweetheart……and I’m so afraid that you’ll leave me or regret me or feel shameful of me.”

You cup Finnick’s face for him to look at you and there are a thousand emotions visible in your eyes as you speak.

“Are you kidding, Finnick? Look me in the eye when I tell you that I will never regret loving you or feel ashamed of you. I’m so proud to have you as my partner, as my lover, so proud of how strong you are…how strong you remain after the terrible things you had to go through.”

“In fact, my love, I look up to you. You’re my role model Finnick, and if I were in your shoes, I would not be able to handle things half as well as you do. You are kind, amazing, beautiful and definitely not disgusting. Trust me when I say that that is the last thing you’ll ever be. Besides, it wasn’t your choice to kill that tribute, anyone would’ve done the same.”

And with that, his sea green eyes softens, and that smile you’re familiar with finally appears on his face. Dimples when he smiles. You press a soft kiss on his forehead and stroke his hair as the two of you hold each other sleepily, slowly dozing off to a deep slumber. The last words you mutter being:

“I love you, my love.”

“I love you more, honey. And thank you….really.”

——————————————————————

A/N: AHHHH! tell me why I almost cried writing this?! This is my first angst and I think the lost piece I’ve written by far (on this new account). Please like or reblog if you enjoyed this, and follows are most definitely appreciated ;)

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

The Tragedy of Haladriel - Part I

In Season 1, there is foreshadowing about how Galadriel will be responsible for “bringing Sauron back” due to her obsessive pursuit to destroy him. This is also a theme in Season 2, with her character, now, desiring to put things right and atone for her past mistake.

For the sake of not repeating myself, I recommend reading this post, first.

We foresaw that if Galadriel’s search should have continued, she might have inadvertently kept alive the very evil she sought to defeat. For the same wind that seeks to blow out a fire may also cause its spread. Gil-galad reveals to Elrond the real reason he sent Galadriel to Valinor, 1x01

In 1x04, Galadriel sees a vision of the Fall of Númenor, on the Palantír:

The red is meant to symbolize Sauron, and she’s walking towards it. In the Númenor plot in Season 1, there is a lot of weight of Galadriel being the one responsible for announcing the Fall of Númenor (which will be caused by Sauron).

In “Rings of Power”, it’s pretty much established that it was Galadriel’s pride that condemned Middle-earth to Sauron’s tyranny. 

But... is this as simple as it appears? Is it because she brought him back to Middle-earth? Or because she denied his offer? The answer is far more complex, but it’s connected with her pride, yes, and also with her meddling with Mairon’s attempt at redemption. But also with Mairon’s own choices. In boils down to both of them getting tested by the Valar, and failing.

In the end, Galadriel didn’t overcome her pride, and Mairon didn’t see his redemption through and fell back into evil, and this is pretty much in line with what Tolkien himself wrote. 

Galadriel: The Elf Transformed by Darkness

[Galadriel] had no peace within. Pride still moved [her] when, at the end of the Elder Days, the final overthrow of Morgoth, she refused the pardon of the Valar for all who had fought against him, and remained on Middle-earth. Unfinished Tales [of Númenor and Middle-earth]

When we first meet Galadriel in 1x01, we can immediately perceive she’s strong-willed, proud and rebellious, acting against orders of the High King of the Noldor, Gil-galad, in her endless hunt for Sauron, Morgoth’s sucessor and the responsible for her brother’s death.

Galadriel is also the only Elf in Middle-earth who believes that Sauron is still out there, and means to find and destroy him, at any cost. “More and more of our kind began to believe that Sauron was but a memory. And the threat, at last, was ended. I wish I could be one of them.”

Gil-galad “honors” Galadriel by granting her passage to return to Valinor, and rest in glory. But she’s set on refusing, because she’s certain Sauron will return.

Elrond: Do you truly believe seeking him out will satisfy you? That one more Orc upon the point of your blade will bring you peace? […] If you are wrong, will you lead more Elves to die in far-off lands? To convince yourself you have done enough, how many more statues would you add to this path? No one in history has ever refused the call. Do so now, it may never come again. Do so now, it may never come again. You will linger here, an outcast, poisoned in dark whispers and dreams. Galadriel: And in the West, do you think my fate would be better? Where song would mock the cries of battle in my ears? You say I have won victory over all the horrors of Middle-earth. Yet you would leave them alive in me? To take with me? Undying, unchanging, unbreaking, into the land of winter less spring? Elrond: Only in the Blessed Realm can that which is broken in you be healed. Go there. Go, and I promise you… If but a whisper of a rumor of the threat you perceive proves true, I will not rest until it is put right. You have fought long enough, Galadriel. Put up your sword.

Galadriel sees her endless pursue for Sauron as the means to earn her inner peace after everything she saw, did and endured on Middle-earth. It’s connected to her pride, yes, but also to her greatest and deepest desire of healing. And this is why she can’t stop her pursuit, even when we, the audience, watch Galadriel endanger her companions’ lives in 1x01.

It’s not just about vengeance, because, like she tells Mairon, 1x05, “one cannot satisfy thirst by drinking sea water”. Hence, Galadriel believes that, only when she destroys Sauron, will she be able to find inner peace, and heal the darkness within herself.

Halbrand: The Repentant Mairon

When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë, the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented […] But it was not within the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order […] to receive from the Valar a sentence, in might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith. The Silmarillion

In 2x01, Sauron’s physical form gets destroyed by Adar using Morgoth’s crown, and he spends centuries on a cave. He regains a new physical form and a new name (“Halbrand”, because “I have many names”, as it’s been established by Season 2).

When Morgoth was defeated, it was as if a great, clenched fist had released its grasp from my neck. And in the stillness of that first sunrise, at last, I felt the light of The One again. And I knew if ever I was to be forgiven... That I had to heal everything that I had helped ruin.

While wandering the Southlands, he eventually meets Diarmid (the original owner of the King of the Southlands’ heraldry pouch):

I know you’ve suffered. I can see it in your eyes. There’s another life waiting for you. You just have to turn toward it […] A sure path may crumble, but there’s always another. Often, it can lead us someplace better. Someplace good. They say there’s places across the sea, a man can escape himself. Find another path. Perhaps another life.

When Mairon arrives at Númenor, he sees it as “the place across the sea” Diarmid told him about. Where he can find another path. A island gifted by the Valar themselves to Men, and where they are ever watchful. And so, he believes this is where he can prove his good faith to the Valar and sought their forgiveness for his past sins and crimes under Morgoth.

There is not another man on this isle that knows this craft better than I. I will shovel coal if needs be, I’ll splinter wood, I’ll shape a sea anchor for you, free of charge, sturdier than anything you have ever seen. How’s that? I’m here to start anew. Lend me that chance. Please. And I won’t forget it. Halbrand/Mairon asks for work at Númenor forge, 1x03

Diarmid also tells Mairon he has to chose good everyday, and this is a callback to Gandalf in “The Hobbit” trilogy: Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love.

Diarmid: Nightmares again? What haunts you so? Mairon: I’ve done evil. Diarmid: All of us have done things that we care not to admit. Mairon: Not like I have. Diarmid: Find forgiveness. You are alive because you have chosen good. Mairon: But what of tomorrow? Diamid: You have to choose it again. And the next day. And the next. Until it becomes a part of your nature.

We, then, see Mairon chose wrong, by not helping Diarmid and leaving him for dead, and steal his pouch. He later atones for this when he saves Galadriel from drowning. He also asks for her forgiveness, in 1x05:

And this is when something starts to change in Mairon, and he sees earning Galadriel’s forgiveness as his chance at redemption, instead of staying in Númenor in servitude (like he was meant to).

However, his bound to Morgoth (darkness) is always lingering over Mairon: when he leaves Diarmid to his death, and when he beats the Númenóreans smiths (because of Galadriel).

“The Sea is Always Right”

After Season 2, we have the confirmation that Galadriel and Mairon meeting was, indeed, by chance, and not something planned by Sauron. Nor did he summoned the sea serpent (“the Worm”).

There is a popular theory that suggests this sea creature might have been sent by Ulmo, the Vala of the Sea. This is a strong theory, since this is a Vala associated with Númenor, and both Galadriel and Mairon were on the Sundering Seas (next to both Valinor and Númenor). And this also aligns with the notion of “tides of fate” and how their meeting was the work of something greater.

Judgement of the Valar

Ours was no chance meeting. Not fate, nor destiny, nor any other words Men use to speak of the forces they lack the conviction to name. Ours was the work of something greater. You must see it. Galadriel tells Halbrand/Mairon, 1x03

When the petals of Nimloth, the White Tree of Númenor, fall, according to Queen-regent Míriel, the Faithful see in them the tears of the Valar, “a living reminder that their eyes and judgment are ever upon us.”

The eyes of the Valar weight on both Mairon and Galadriel, in Númenor. Can he see his redemption through? And can she let go of her pride?

At the surface, it’s like Elrond said in 2x02, Galadriel saw in Halbrand the lost king who could ride her to victory, and help her destroy Sauron and avenge her brother’s death. Mairon, on the other hand, coveted Galadriel’s light and believed she might help him gain his redemption by earning her forgiveness.

They were both wrong, and they both failed the test.

It’s Galadriel’s pride who tempts Mairon towards the darkness and into his old ways under Morgoth, and eventually leads him to chose deception instead on staying on Númenor in servitude.

Galadriel: A cage you have landed in because you chafe under the rags of the common. And the armor that ought to rest upon your shoulder’s weighs upon your soul. Halbrand/Mairon: Be careful, Elf. The heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility. For it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth. I am not the hero you seek. For it was my family that lost the war. Galadriel tries to persuade Halbrand/Mairon to reclaim his crown as King of the Southlands (future Lord of Mordor), 1x03

“Aren’t these the seeds you planted?” Sauron asks Galadriel in 2x02 and 2x08.

Indeed, in 1x03 and 1x05 we see Galadriel being the “Morgoth” to Mairon’s “Sauron” on several occasions, and him even growing impatient with her, because she’s impulsive, aggressive, arrogant and sometimes downright offensive towards the Númenóreans. This chaotic energy recalls him, even if on a subconscious level, of Morgoth himself.

Mairon compares Galadriel to a "horse in full gallop", and advises her not to antagonize the Númenóreans (although, he's not one to talk, as we see later).

You used me. After I all but begged you to let me be (…) Find another head to crown. Halbrand/Mairon gets angry at Galadriel, 1x05

We even see Galadriel going into the forge to tempt him with promises of power, as Morgoth himself did when Mairon as a Maia of Aulë. And this is when everything chances for Mairon.

Mairon's Choice

When Galadriel is about to leave for Middle-earth, the petals of Nimloth begin to fall, and Tar-Míriel believes it’s to be a sign from the Valar: Galadriel must not leave. In the same sequence we also see Mairon, looking over Númenor.

This can mean the Valar are warning the Númenóreans about Sauron’s presence on the island, or that Sauron himself caused this to happen, to prevent Galadriel to leave without him. I think both interpretations can be correct, really.

This marks Mairon’s first deception in Season 1: him accepting to play the “King of the Southlands” role. And we have red (deception) on this shot, as well. This is the beginning of Mairon’s downfall into darkness.

Mairon now believes that Galadriel will help him achieve his redemption, because he will able to “choose good” with her, by gaining her forgiveness and healing. However, it’s the other way around. By following Galadriel’s pride, he’s one step closer to fall into his old ways, into evil. Because he chose deception, instead of following through with his initial intentions of servitude.

And, in 1x05, we, the audience, are shown *the* moment when Mairon makes this choice (deception over redemption):

Understanding Galadriel and Mairon connection

In 1x02, Galadriel and Mairon end up adrift on a raft, together. And Galadriel immediately starts to plot ways to find Sauron, once she sees the crest "Halbrand" wears. Nevertheless, this is the scene when they start to bond with each other, too.

This is also the episode where Elrond says to Durin and Disa: Where there is love, it is never truly dark. And then next scene is Galadriel and Mairon getting to know each other.

I know something of the pain you carry. I grieve for you. For those you lost. Galadriel emphatizes with Mairon, 1x02

On Tolkien lore, Elves are emphatic and compassionate beings by nature, but having Galadriel empathizing with him, appears to have a deep effect on Mairon. It probably has something to do with the fact he’s the one who caused her brother’s death, by having his werewolves kill him. He later saves Galadriel from drowing, too, maybe to "atone" for her brother's death at the hands of his servants ("an eye for an eye").

I have been searching for my peace for longer than you know. Please, for both our sakes, let me keep it. Perhaps some peace would do you good as well. Mairon tells Galadriel once they arrive at Númenor, 1x03

Both Galadriel and Mairon recognized the need for inner peace and healing in each other, and this is, maybe, why they both felt so drawn together. Both of them were seeking redemption, and saw the opportunity to get it in each other. Galadriel, herself, tells Mairon this, in 1x04: Come with me to Middle-earth. And together we will redeem both our bloodlines.

This need for redemption also connects with a recognition of past misdeeds: they have both done things (or saw them being done) they deeply regret, and it haunts them, still.

"The light of Valinor shone upon your very face, Galadriel, and you turned your back on it. Was it truly to fight the darkness or was the darkness calling to you?" Elrond asks Galadriel, 2x02

Galadriel and Mairon felt so deeply connected because they shared the same belief: only when they destroy “Sauron”, will they find inner peace, and healing from the darkness within themselves.

There was a physical attraction, sure, but these are immortal spirits, up and foremost (with Mairon not being bound to his physical form, unlike Galadriel). The connection they felt runs deeper, than just wanting to “shake the sheets” (or the forge table) with each other. Or him just being attracted to her because of her legendary beauty (Morgoth/Silmarils parallel). 

Galadriel: Thank you... For pulling me back. Mairon: Was you, pulled me back first. Galadriel: Whatever it was he did to you, and whatever it was you did... Be free of it. Mairon: I never believed I could be... Until today. Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...

Galadriel stopped Mairon from getting his revenge against Adar (because he was the one who destroyed his previous physical form), and, that’s the reason for him starting to believe redemption is within his reach, after all. And he thinks it’s because of Galadriel (and not due to his own choices).

And this is another one of his mistakes, because this is how he was created by Eru during the Ainulindalë ("before the breaking of the first silence"). Marion isn’t a leader: he’s a follower, a Maia in service of a Vala. That's who he's suppose to be, and how he was designed to be. He served Aulë, then Melkor/Morgoth, and now wants to serve Galadriel, believing she will guide him to the redemption he so desperately wants and seeks.

[llondonfog]

the simple savagery of lilia contemplating the murder of a helpless infant abandoned and alone in a decaying castle was voiced in such an exceptionally terrifying delivery, i was in awe.

it's just fascinating to think what could have happened here. he could have killed silver and walked away, no one would ever have known. least of all malleus, and that in and of itself was fascinating to me— is killing an infant against lilia's own morals? not necessarily it seems, it's only the thought of disappointing malleus that stays his hand. the thought of if he should find out that lilia didn't practice what he was preaching to the young prince about living in harmony with the humans in their world. and we know at this point lilia is around seven hundred years old, it's been three or four centuries since he lost meleanor to the knight, and yet that potent rage and grief at her loss is still there the moment that the opportunity for revenge presents itself.

at the same time, we also know that silver only woke up because of lilia's presence, the one who would love him truly. it's just fascinating to know that even though lilia could not accept it at the time, the red strings of fate bringing them together already knew what his heart was not willing to acknowledge— this little boy would be his beloved son, bringing peace to his heart at last.

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 5 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Soft Dom Officer Harrington/ Soft Dom Gangster Eddie & Sub Fem Doctor Y/N, SMUT, overstimulation, dp, light spanking, light choking, aftercare.

ANGST! Reader gets caught in a lie, someone threatens her relationship with Eddie, Reader gets punished for lying, mentions of exes, mentions of Eddie's dick dad, Cliffhanger ending! *evil laughs*

Word Count: 6385

Series here

Steve sighs from his desk at the precinct as he scans through boring paperwork. This is the part of the job he hates. It reminds him of being dragged to his father’s office to “see how the family business is run”. Even as a kid he knew the corporate world wasn’t for him. When he enrolled in the police academy, his mother cried and his dad raged, screaming about how he abandoned his responsibilities. He didn’t care though; he wanted to do something good, not just with his life but for the city around him. 

He never expected to fall in love with a criminal nor did he indeed to. To him, Eddie was everything he wasn’t even though the gangster always commented about how similar they both were. After his breakup, Steve hardened his heart and became bitter as he focused solely on the job to avoid the pain he was in. In one 15min car ride, Eddie broke through that barrier and in that moment the officer knew he would do whatever he could to protect him. 

His phone vibrated and he grinned when he saw the message was from you. 

George Carver is investing in my clinic! Oh my God. I can’t believe he’s still willing. 

I can finally get better supplies and give my staff the bonuses they deserve.

That’s amazing, sweetheart! You deserve it. :) 

If you need anything else just let me know.

I’m so happy for you, honey. We should celebrate tonight!

I should be out of here on time.

“Steve, there’s a man in interrogation room B asking to speak with you.”

The officer nods towards his colleague, exhaling as he stands and heads that way. When he enters the room, his eyes rake over the seemingly agitated young man as he takes a seat across from him and opens the file that was given to him. 

“Gabriel Wiley. I heard you wanted to speak with me.”

“Is that camera still broken? The few times I’ve been in here it was never fixed.”

“Why does it matter, Gabe? Something you don’t want my captain knowing?”

“No…it’s something YOU don’t want him knowing.”

That gets the officer’s attention as he shifts his gaze towards the man in front of him. He wasn’t like the usual people brought in or who came in with a tip that could help. Gabriel was well dressed from top to bottom in an expensive looking suit but seemed as if he had been pulling on it from stress as the tie was missing and the top few buttons were undone. 

“I don’t have time for this so if we can get on with it—”

“I need Edward Munson to stay away from Y/N.”

Steve blinked in surprise as he folded his arms and leaned forward. 

“How do you know Y/N?”

“Does THAT matter? She’s not safe with him and as his friend I would imagine you would want to keep the peace between everyone.”

“Are you threatening him?”, the officer growled.

“No… but the people I do business with could do some damage to them both and I don’t want that. You have three days, Mr. Harrington.”

As the man stood up, Steve flew from his chair, grabbing the man’s collar, and roughly pushing him against the wall.

“If you hurt either of them, I swear to God, they will never find your body.”

Gabriel nods as if accepting that this will be his fate as he pats the officer’s arms, signaling to let him go. 

“Nothing will happen if she stays away from him.”

***

“Stevie, you’re finally here! I got champagne and Y/N put some food in the oven so oddly enough you’re right on time—”

“Do you know this man?”, he interrupts as Steve shoves his phone screen in your face.

“What? No. Why?”

“What about you, Ed?”

Eddie takes the phone and gives it a good once over.

“I’ve never met him but other gangs in town hire low level people all the time. Garth and Jeff know better than to do that on my side. I don’t like having people I don’t know in my organization. Why, babe? What happened?”

The officer sighs as he throws a file on the counter that his boyfriend opens and sifts through. 

“Gabriel Wiley came in today asking for me by name and said that you needed to leave Y/N. We had three days or else ‘things would happen’.”

“What THINGS?”, the gangster grumbled low in anger.

“I don’t know. We need to find out who he is working for. It looks like he’s done some petty crimes…did about 6 months in Hawkins Pen…”

“Maybe I should talk to him…since it seems to involve me and he doesn’t want me with you.”

“That may be exactly what he wants. No, Y/N, just stay with me for the time being, ok?”, Eddie practically pleads as you nod. 

The three of you try to still celebrate the evening with both men drinking way more alcohol than they should. You knew better, pretending to sip more than you actually were. After they passed out, you slithered out of their hold to scan the file Steve had brought home with him. 

Gabriel had been arrested numerous times like the officer mentioned for things like disorderly conduct and theft. He spent 6 months in jail for robbing a store in Eddie’s territory but since then he hasn’t seemingly been in any trouble. 

Grabbing your bag, you slipped out of the loft, down the back stairs, and headed for your car. 

###############

Gabriel answered the door when you knocked in just his sweats and a shocked expression. 

“Y/N, what are you—”

“What are YOU doing, Gabe?”, you asked in annoyance as you pushed past him into his home. “Why are you going to police stations to threaten the life of a gangster?”

“Why are you dating one?!”

“That’s none of your concern! You’re the one who refused to get your life together!”

“Oh, so you upped your game from blue collar criminals to full on murderers?”, he asked as he leaned against the back of his couch. 

“Fuck you! I’m finally happy and with someone who cares about me—”

“And I didn’t?!”

You both heavily sigh as you place your hands on your hips. 

“Why did you threaten me and Eddie to Steve today?”

“I didn’t threaten you. Someone is upset that you’re with him—”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you or that cop but… Y/N, I loved you. I never stopped. Even after I went in and you dumped my ass. I told myself when I got out I would grovel at your feet but then things happened…I needed to keep you safe.” His eyes meet yours with sympathy for a moment before they flood with anger. “You need to leave and you need to leave Edward Munson, Y/N, or else.”, he growled as he grabbed your arm and started pushing you towards the front door. 

As he swings it open, he gasps as he comes face to face with the gangster himself.

“You know, I had a feeling you were lying when you said you didn’t know him but I’m kind of disappointed that you thought we were stupid enough to fall for the ‘feed them alcohol till they pass out’ trick.” Eddie’s tone seemed calm but even you could tell he was furious. 

While you both backed away from him and he slammed the door shut, you backed into a broad chest that genuinely startled you. 

“Or else what, Gabe?”, Steve asked as he continued to step forward making the other boy stumble to the side as he backed you into the gangster, his eyes never leaving yours. “She needs to leave Eddie or what?”

“This is…I told you to…to talk to them. This is a bad idea, Steven.”, Gabriel huffed in what sounded like fear. 

“You lied to us. Why?” When your jaw clenched in defiance, his fingers pinched your cheeks. As the other man moved to defend you, Eddie pushed him to the ground and placed his boot on his chest. “From what I heard, he sounds like an ex, is that right?”

“Yes.”, you spat. 

“Why did you lie?” When you didn’t respond, he backed you into the wall and hovered his face in front of yours. “You are in a lot of trouble so I would skip the theatrics and come clean now. Why did you lie?”

When you push at his chest, his hand comes back around to grab your bicep and pushes you a bit roughly onto the couch. Helplessly you watch as both men grab your ex and throw him on the carpet in front of you as Eddie punches him hard in the face. 

“You said someone didn’t like that they were together. Why?”

“Go ahead and kill me. If I tell you everything, I’m dead anyway.”

The gangster hits him again as Steve grabs a chair from the kitchen and places it in front of you as he straddles the back. 

“Why did you two break up? I heard him say you left him. Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does because we asked. Now I’m starting to get annoyed with having to repeat myself so this is the last time I’m going to ask. Why did you two break up?”

“If you hurt him anymore I’ll leave you both, Steve.”

“B-Both? You’re with both of them?”, Gabe asked in surprise as his head fell back against the floor and he chuckled. “Jesus, this is way worse than I thought. Are you fucking him to?”, he asked Eddie whose eyes darkened at the man’s tone. “Just fucking kill me, Munson. I barely have it in me to kill the woman I love let alone a fucking cop.”

“Gabriel, what are you talking about? Did Jason Carver send you?”, Eddie asked as the man continued to smile before sighing. “Hey! Focus! Who do you work for?”

“Hawkins Penitentiary. Three years ago. Cell block G.”

The gangster’s eyes swiftly met his partner’s as he releases his hold on your ex. Promptly rising to his feet, he flies out the door with Steve following hastily after. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Leaving the man on the floor, you run after them finding them arguing back and forth as the officer tries to stop Eddie from getting behind the wheel. 

“NO! You can’t confront him right now!”

“Steve, this is completely different then the Jason thing. I need to know why. Keep an eye on her and don’t let her leave my place. I don’t care what excuse she gives you. We’ll deal with her when I get back.”

Pausing for a moment, Eddie turns to give his boyfriend a passionate kiss before getting into his car and speeding away.

###############

Steve paces as he waits for his partner to come back. It had been over two hours since Eddie left and the officer was getting restless. 

“Steve—”

“Don’t talk. I don’t want to hear it.”

Thirty minutes later the door to the apartment opens as the gangster strides in with heavy shoulders as he sighs.

“Are you ok, honey?”, the man asks as he cups his face in his hands.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I straighten everything out but…”

“Is Gabe going to be ok?” Their eyes shift your way as you rise to your feet and place yourself in front of him. “Eddie…”

“I made a deal to keep you both, well Y/N, safe. I told his employer I’d dispose of him myself.”, he relayed in a calm demeanor as his chocolate hues never left your face. A heavy exhale left your lips as the tears began to flow. 

“Please tell me you didn’t…”

“I didn’t. I gave him some money and one of my guys is taking him to the next state over so he can get on a plane to leave the country. He fucked up but I guess we were lucky he was fucking in love with you.” Glancing towards Steve, he continued to relay information. “He was supposed to kill her to get back at me for ‘ruining his business’. Asshole is super fucking petty; always has been. Seems he doesn’t know about you. I’m surprised Jason hasn’t told him.”

“Who was he working for?”

Both men glared your way before the officer produced his handcuffs flashing them in your direction. 

“Are you going to answer our questions or are we doing this hard way?”

Fear dances through your eyes before they harden and glare right back.

“You said you would never use those tactics on me. That you would never hurt me.”

“That’s correct.” 

Steve lunges forward taking ahold of your arm, clinging to you tightly as you wrestle against him. Eddie drags a chair to the living room where you are placed and restrained as you begin to cry tears of frustration. 

“You can say ‘red’, Y/N, and we would stop right now. We meant what we said…we would never hurt you or use those methods to get you to talk but we know other ways.”, the gangster explained as he placed himself on his knees in front of you. 

They both waited for you to use the safe word, minutes passing as his eyes scanned your face. After a while, he nodded towards the officer behind you and you listened as he rummaged around the area behind you while Eddie cupped your face in his hands to try your tears. 

“Am I allowed to be rough to?”

The gangster couldn’t help but chuckle as his fingers began unbuckling your jeans so he could pull them down.

“You kind of are already by making this harder than it has to be. I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell us the truth. But sure, sweetheart, give us what you got.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Or what, little girl? What are you gonna do?”

“What is it with you and chairs? Why do you always try and intimidate people in one? Is it so you can feel bigger than them?”

“We can move you to the railing if you’d like so you can stand.” After he nods again behind you, you wait as you feel Steve begin to uncuff you. 

“5 bucks, Munson.”

“You’re on.”

You had no idea what they were talking about but as soon as you were free your foot pushed against Eddie’s chest as you bolted for the stairs. Your plan was to gain the upper hand in his bedroom with your back to a wall but you should have known better. Steve did this for a living. 

You barely made it two steps before his arms were wrapping around you and pinning you to the floor. As he straddled your waist, he held your wrists down as you tried to wrestle back against his hold. 

“Told you.”, he sang. 

“I didn’t think she’d actually try and run. Fight back maybe but.”, Eddie laughed as he replaced his boyfriend’s grasp on your arms and dragged you the rest of the way towards the stairs. “Always surprising me, princess.”

Steve restrained you again to one of the rails behind you with your limbs above your head. You continued to try and kick him with your legs but when his hand came down hard on your behind you stopped. Almost too delicately, he removed your panties and you watched as he opened a decorative box, pulling out a new pair. Sliding them up your body, you shivered as the pads of his fingers traced your skin. 

You knew immediately something was off as the crotch area of the lace felt a bit heavier than a normal pair of underwear. 

“I actually bought this for you a while ago and saved it thinking it would be a fun anniversary present or just something to utilize as you walk around the loft.”, Eddie grins in amusement as he takes a seat in the chair you were previously in. “Now, let’s try this again, Y/N. Why did the two of you break up? He seems to still be in love with you so I imagine you did the dumping.”

Your jaw clenches as you turn your head away from them. Both men sigh as something beeps and the panties you were wearing come to life. As the little vibrations play with your clit, you glare their way again.

“Fuck you.”

“This thing is pretty nifty. I spent a good chunk of cash on it so I’m hoping it makes you feel really good, baby. See, we have this remote here that controls the setting and it can vibrate at 4 different levels. The one you’re feeling right now is that first one.”

Your eye lids flutter at his admission as your defiant features falter slightly. If this was the lowest setting, you were in trouble. 

Locking his intense eyes with yours, he presses the next setting.

“Fuck.”

You expect them to throw more questions your way but they remain silent as they watch you get slowly built up before your first orgasm washes over you. 

“Why did you two break up?”

As you shake your head, Eddie bumps it up to the next level making you whine. By your fourth orgasm, you were a mess, your legs weakly thrashing about as you tugged on the cuffs around your wrists. 

“I’m losing my patience, Y/N, especially since this is the easiest question to answer out of all the ones we have. WHY did you two break up?” Growling in annoyance Eddie began to reach for the next setting before you cut him off. 

“NO! No, please. He went to jail. He went to jail.”, you cried as you felt the build up again. 

“For robbing a store?”, Steve asked and you nodded. 

“What? Couldn’t wait 6 months? Doesn’t really give me hope if I go in.”, the gangster replied sarcastically making you angry. 

“It wasn’t his first offence. He had been getting in trouble off and on for years. I warned him! I told him if he got in trouble again I’d leave.”

“For years, huh. How long were you together?” They watched as your head hung as the coil snapped again. “You know what, Ed, I’m kind of hungry. Why don’t we go to kitchen downstairs and come back in about an hour—”

“2 years.”, you cried. “We were friends in college before we-we started dating.”

“Color, Y/N?”

They marveled at your defiance even in your current state as you spit in their direction. 

“Green, sir!”

Stomping your way and tired of your attitude, Eddie beckons Steve to release you and as soon as he does you fall into his arms, clinging to his neck as another orgasm ripples through your body. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you knew him?”

“Please, Eddie—”

Moving part of the now damp silk out of the way, he slide two of his fingers into your core and pumped them at a fast pace overwhelming your senses as you circled your arms tighter around him.

“He said he still loved you. Do you still love him?”, Steve asked sternly as he kneeled beside you both. 

“NO! H-H-How could you ask me that?! After everything I’ve done for you!”

“Then why did you lie?!”

“I didn’t want you to hurt him!”, you shouted as you trembled against him, soaking his fingers. 

You feel Eddie move around as you continue to cling to him before the vibration between your legs abruptly stops. Laying your head against his chest, you listen to his heartbeat and use it as an anchor to slow your breathing. 

“He worked for my father.” Leaning back, your eyes widen at the gangster’s admission. 

“That’s most likely why he never came back to ‘grovel at your feet’.”, Steve added. 

“I don’t understand. He only did…little things like…stealing cars and—”

“That’s how my dad started.”, Eddie sighed. “Why do you think he’s so fucking sloppy? Even Gabe was sloppy. Fucking walking straight into a police station to threaten me to a cop? Friend or not that’s a bad idea, not just for himself but for Steve. Probably why my dad’s been using him for small favors. They met during those 6 months, Y/N. He was in a different part of the prison but Allen made a deal with some of the guards to have him moved. He had originally intended to punish him for breaking into a store in ‘his’ territory. He likes to pretend it’s still his in there.”

“As a trade so to speak, instead of killing him they used him to do things on the outside. I wouldn’t know about it because I don’t care about petty crimes like robbery especially since no one got hurt. For things like that, I let Steve do his job.”

“Why…why would your dad want me dead?”

He smirks to himself as he answers.

“Because I’m happy. You see, sweetheart, it REALLY pisses him off that not only am I in charge but I’m a way better leader than he ever was and he knows that. If he had known about Steve, he probably would have sent someone a long time ago. Hopefully not the same guy because as you saw…he couldn’t do it.”

“And he’s not going to kill Eddie because too many people would turn on him including his uncle. Wayne’s not a violent man but he’d kill anyone who hurt his nephew.”

“When I went down there I didn’t tell him Gabriel was your ex but he already knew. Said that the asshole didn’t stop talking about you to grunts that were loyal to my dad. Fucking idiot…”

“Especially for a man preaching that he wanted to keep you safe.”, Steve murmured.

“Which is probably another reason he made a deal with me to kill him. A ‘your life for his’ trade so to speak. Y/N, I need you to understand that it took EVERY ounce of energy for me not to follow through.”

“Why didn’t you?”, you whisper. “Especially since you think I still love him.”

Their jaws clenched at your accusation as Eddie heavily exhaled. 

“I told you, little girl. I don’t enjoy killing people. If I don’t have to then I don’t.”

“Yet you wanted to?”

“Of course, I did. He could have gotten you both killed. Gabriel put you in danger and put Steve at risk. In this business, babe, sloppiness like that either puts you in jail like Allen or gets you killed and if I decided to kill him I would still have been able to sleep at night.”

It was your turn for your face to harden once more as you pushed yourself out of their embrace and utilized the rail to get to your wobbly feet. 

“Now who’s lying? Do you think I’m stupid? Yeah, maybe, that’s part of the reason you wanted to kill him but I know you, Eddie. I also heard you on that first night. ‘No one touches what’s mine.’ It fucking kills you that he still loves me, doesn’t it? If you could remove the ‘competition’ you would.”

Getting to his feet as well, the gangster stalks towards your pants and panties, tossing them roughly at your chest.

“You want to fucking leave and go be with that asshole? Have at it. Hell, I’ll even drop you off myself. We can take Steve’s cruiser that way we can get you there faster and away from us.”

“What about you, Steven? Could you have killed him out of jealousy?”

“In a heartbeat.” You blinked, taken aback by his answer. “I heard him yell at you saying that you ‘upped your game’ or some bullshit to a gangster but do you know the real reason you stay even though Eddie and I do way worse? Because we fucking care. For three years, Y/N, he’s been doing whatever Allen told him without question yet he supposedly loved you but when you begged him to stop doing what he was doing he didn’t. When he got out, he could have done the same thing Munson just did for him and ran away with you but he didn’t.”

“He didn’t give a fuck about you. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s true. We…” Steve gestures between him and Eddie. “…we do. We could have killed Gabriel. He could have brought him back here and we could have fucking tortured the hell out of him for threatening you but we didn’t because it would have hurt you. You asked us not to so we didn’t.”

“You’re right, Y/N. Like Steve, you are mine and no one hurts or touches what’s mine but that doesn’t mean Iwant to be the one to hurt you. I’m not vindictive like Allen and you’re not my possession. You’re my partner.”

“OUR partner.”

“Now, little girl, you want me to be honest? Here it is. Yes, the thought crossed my mind of following through and killing him especially when I think about him saying he still loves you. When he had his hands on you when he opened the door… He had the audacity to touch you… Fuck, I wanted to break his legs and tear him in half. Steve could have helped hide his body and then remove any evidence that he had any contact with us. I pictured it over and over on the drive back here…but I didn’t…because I love you.”

When your gaze shifted towards Steve, the officer shrugged as he nodded. 

“I loved you since the first sassy thing came out of your mouth. I fell in love with you that night after Andrew. You let me take care of you, fell asleep in my arms, and I knew then I didn’t want to let you go.”

“If…If I asked you to give up this life…and run away somewhere with me…would you?”, you ask in a small tone as your head slightly hangs. 

You’ve done this dance before and the answer killed you.

“You robbed a fucking liquor store? Why?! What did you need so badly that—”

“Y/N! I don’t have time for this! You’re my one phone call. Now I need you to come bail me out and—”

“With what money, Gabe?! You promised me. You promised me you would shape up and stop doing shit like this!”

“With what money, babe?”, he replies sarcastically. “You think college is fucking cheap? You think a house, marriage, and all that comes free?!”

“Well thankfully none of that is your concern anymore!”

“What?”

“I’m done…”

Gabriel releases a breathy sigh before responding again.

“Y/N, baby, please… I can do better. I’ll be more careful and—”

“Of course.” 

Your head shoots up at Eddie’s answer as Steve nods as well. 

“I’d never ask you to do that… I know people depend on you here.”

“I know, sweetheart.”, the gangster whispered. 

“So, what’s the plan, honey?” You look at the officer in confusion before he turns around and grabs his keys. “Are we driving you to where Gabriel is?”

Your head shakes as the day hits you and you start bawl. 

“Can we take a break, please?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s been a rough night. Do you want to go home?”, Steve asks and again you shake your head. Slowly, he walks forward till he’s inches in front of you. “Y/N, are you in that vulnerable headspace we talked about?” When you nod, he lifts you into his arms and you promptly wrap your limbs around him as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

You heard the long-haired boy pass you as he went up the stairs and the officer followed with you in tow.

“Honey, do you want to take a bath or anything?”

“I’m sorry I lied.”

“Thank you but, baby girl, that’s not what I asked.”

“I’d like a bath, please.”

You cling to his neck as he holds you waiting for Eddie to finish getting everything together and places you down gently in the warm water. Closing your eyes, you heavily sigh.

“I love you to…both of you…so much. I-I-I’ve wanted to say something before but you two have been together for over a-a year. The three of us have been seeing each other for a couple of months. I didn’t want to scare you off or—”

Fingers grabbed your chin as a cigarette tasting mouth met your own.

“Always be open with us, sweetheart. Always. Say it again…please.”

You chuckle through your tears as he smiles against your lips.

“I love you, Eddie and Steve.” 

As their kisses become more heated, you feel yourself becoming desperate to have them make you theirs. 

“I want you both…please…”

“Y/N, you need a break.”, the officer chuckles at your earnestness. 

“I had one. I’m ok. Please, please, please. I need to feel you both inside of me.”, you purr as your hand strokes his cock causing him to groan a bit. 

The gangster leans forward and kisses your shoulder as your breathing halts at the sudden intrusion of his thick fingers in your ass. 

“Have you ever done this before?”

“It’s…It’s been a while. Shit, that feels…amazing.”

Steve grins as his lips tenderly run along your chin to your neck and you cling to him as he guides two of his own fingers deep into your cunt. 

“Jesus, Eddie. She’s so fucking tight. I don’t think this little pussy can take much more.”

“Nooooooo, Steve. Please.”, you whine. “I can take it. I can take it. I can…”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Climbing out of the tub, the long-haired boy splashes water everywhere and wraps his arm around your body to lift you off his boyfriend, carrying you haphazardly back into the bedroom. Your soaking wet frames trench his mattress as he lays on his back behind you and situates you with your back to him straddling his waist. 

“I’m gonna hold my cock…and you just…lower that sexy ass onto it…as slow as you need to.”, he panted.

Nodding, his length twitches in anticipation as you hold your cheeks open giving him a good view before gradually beginning to take him in.

“Oh. O-oh, Steve?”

“I’m right here, honey. You’re doing so good. I got you.”, he cooed as he rested his palm on your hip in front of you while his other caressed your face. “There you go. Just take your time, pretty girl.”

It felt like an eternity but when your hips finally connected with the gangsters, you carefully leaned your back onto his chest noticing then that his eyes were closed. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just…trying not to cum early.” He smirked when you giggled. “You feel so good, Y/N. Your ass is just fucking choking my dick.”

Steve noticed your pussy flutter at the man’s words and he can’t help himself, leaning forward and licking a long stripe through your folds making you shudder. 

Inching towards you two on his knees, he reared back and spit onto your clit, rubbing it in with the tip of his cock, teasing you before he guided himself into your entrance. 

“Ah…God fucking damn it. I told you, Y/N…tight.”

Your head fell back as you begun to feel overwhelmed with the feeling of them inside you. 

“St-Steve, baby, I-I-I can feel you. Fuck I’m not gonna last long.”, Eddie whined causing the officer to bite his bottom lip as he thrust his hips at a faster pace. “What about you, princess? Are y-you alright?”

You didn’t respond, you could barely catch your breath let alone think. Ringed fingers circled around your throat as your mouth fell open and the officer’s deep voice pushed through the fog. 

“He asked you something, little girl. Are you in pain?”

“No.”, you murmur.

“Do we need to stop or slow down?”

“N-No. Please. Fuck me.”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as his head hung and both men moved at a faster, harder rhythm. Eddie’s palm looped around to massage your tit as the other boy’s thumb reached down to play with your bundle of nerves. 

A sudden feeling you had never felt before ran through your body and crashed into you like a wave. You screamed as you trembled, panting heavily as the coil in your stomach aggressively snapped and your felt something wet drench your lower half.

“Jesus fucking… Christ.”, Steve stuttered as his hips stopped moving and he dug his fingers into your waist as he came. 

At the sight above him, Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer as he hugged you to him and with a few more pumps released his seed inside of you. 

“D-Did…Did she…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

It took them a few seconds to realize you had started to quietly sob into the pillow beside you and as carefully as they could they pulled out of you, moving your hair back so they could see your face. 

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong, honey?” Are you ok? Was it too much?”

“T-T-That…That’s never…never happened before… It just…felt so good. Did I ruin the moment?”

“Oh, sweetie. No, no not at all. That’s perfectly normal. Well…not for us…Aren’t you a doctor? You’ve never—OW!”, Steve gasped when his boyfriend smacked his bicep, widening his eyes as if to tell him to shut up.

“Y/N, what my idiot is trying to say is we’ve never made a girl…squirt…before. Geez, it sounds kind of crass doesn’t it?”, Eddie laughs making you softly smile. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart. That was actually really sexy. Did you see what you did to him? Turned him into a teenager again.”

Steve grins as he blushes and lays down in front of you, placing a light kiss on your nose.

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m, um, I’m really tired though…heavy.”

“I can imagine but we can’t fall asleep with the bed in the state it’s in.”, Eddie jests as he gets to his feet and gently lifts you into his arms. “Babe, I’m going to give her a quick shower. I have some clean sheets in that closet back there.”

The officer bounces out of the bed and kisses his partner before placing a soft one on your cheek as you keen into the gangster’s neck. 

You’re so blissed out and exhausted, everything moves in a blur as you feel warm water on your skin, Eddie’s gentle touches, and the comfort of soft, clean sheets. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I swear I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

Arms circle around you as both men nuzzle their faces into your skin.

#######################

“Please be advised, going into Munson compound in 5.”

Steve’s eyes blink slowly open at the sound of his radio cackling.

“Shouldn’t Harrington be here? This is his case.”

“Well, maybe, he’ll actually answer his phone next time.”

Eddie’s head lifted as their eyes met. Reaching for his phone, he sent a message before getting out of bed and smashing it against the wall. 

That startled you awake but Steve’s palm over your mouth silenced you from making any noise. After making a shushing motion with his finger, he pointed towards his radio. 

“3 minutes till entry.”

Pushing against your back, he ushered you out of bed and quickly threw some of Eddie’s clothes over your naked body. Once you were situated, he hastily threw on his own clothes, and grabbed his gear along with anything else that would incriminate him as the three of you hurried down the stairs. 

Tugging on his hand, you pause as you show them a text message you got around 3am that morning. 

“Y/N,

I’m sorry for how things ended with us. I loved you and I was so fucking stupid for letting you go. I should have fought for us but I robbed that store instead. I knew Allen wouldn’t me go and I knew if I ran back to you, he would use you against me like he did with Eddie. 

He seems like a good man but I’m sorry, babe. I can’t let him to get you killed. 

Don’t be with him in the morning and don’t warn him. 

It won’t matter, trust me. 

Run, Y/N. Hell, take the cop with you if you have to have one of them but stay away from anything Munson. 

You have no idea what they’ve done…what they’re capable of…

I love you, 

Gabriel

“You were right…I should have let you--”, you whispered.

Eddie yanked your arm cutting you off and cupped your cheeks as his lips passionately kissed yours. 

“One minute to entry. This is it, guys.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, pretty girl. I’ll be ok. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you to.”, you cry as Steve pulls you two apart and pushes you towards a vent he had pried open. 

The gangster shrugs, fighting the tears that want to push through. 

“I’ll find out what they know. It can’t be much.”

“Enough to storm my building. They’ve never done that before.”

The officer grabs the back of his boyfriend’s neck as they kiss and hug each other tightly. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, honey. I promise. I love you so much.”

“I love you to, my paladin.”

After you climbed in, Steve followed and Eddie hurriedly closed the grate behind you two just as a loud explosion filled your ears. 

You both watch through the window of metal as the gangster cleared his throat and his face hardened as he listened to the sound of officers screaming as they banged against his front door. 

“You’re going to follow me, ok?”, Steve whispers as you nod but as he turns to move, you freeze as you see Eddie raise his hands in surrender and the door loudly bursts open. 

Officers scream at him to get on the ground, grabbing him, and pinning him to the carpet as they handcuff his hands behind his back. 

“Come on, guys. You know I like it rough but this is ridiculous.”, he joked.

“Shut the fuck up, Munson. You’re in a lot of trouble”, Detective Hopper scolds. 

Lightly tugging on your sleeve, Steve motioned for you to follow with the gangster’s sarcastic chuckles echoing behind you. 

###############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon 

[hazelcephalopod]

Matron seems to be on team ‘the gods are holding mortals back’. She’s sick of the other gods and sick of this job.

some relavant points-

She did not know what would happen to Vax as she couldn’t “see his thread” after he became her champion. Also he’s rash and therefore hard to prefect. But doesn’t derserve his current state.

When asked about the Archearts plan. Says They wish to destroy the divine gate and deal with Predathos directly. Consensus amongst those who designed it has not been made.

Says she wants fate to decide the gods destiny, specifies she wants Exandrians to decide the fate of the gods.

She will not flee and excited by new possibility and trusts in her abilities.

When asked what happens to the souls in the afterlife currently. Says there were spirits before her brethren came and she assumes Exandria’s natural cycle will reestablish itself. “The substance of the soul is forever it will find its way”.

Why did she become the god of death? Admits there is some truth in her just having ambition, and also she wanted to see if she could. Additionally she did so with the help of the one who came before. She first tried to take the secrets of divinity from him. They became teacher/student(?), friends and ultimately she thinks she loved him. He asked her to become a god, helped her craft the rite lf ascension.

What became of him? Peace. “Wherever gods go when they come undone”.

Dows she still feel him? She feels echoes of him in is domains and her work. Maybe she still feels for him, but she feels for many including BH.

Is it worth it? For her in the end? She doesn’t know. Which is perhaps why she’s so curious.

What do you know of Predathos? It was before her time, and the family has kept the knowledge from her until they couldn’t. Whatever Predathos is it is bound to where they came from.

Asking someone who became a god. How do they contain what Predathos is? The same thing that allowed her to survive despite it being unlikely, what she is. Love.

We don’t share the love for Predathos, but we love each other? Love for each other might be enough.

The Archeart is bold and impulsive and wants them to do something, she just wants empower mortals to do as they wilt. She has no interest in breaking down the wall and doing another Calamity and refuses to be part of it.

Are you two willing to become new Betrayers? She is.

We’ve been told to embrace Predathos by some, but do you believe we can undo it? Anything is possible. “Anything is possible for you.”

Could you lend us any kind of help to tip the scales? Predathos undoes and unravels the power the gods rely on and she is uncertain what she could provide that wouldn’t also unravel in its presence but is willing to try.

She offers them her mask, Braius reaches for it. She tells him he’s at a crossroads and asks if he knows what that is and he says that a choice is ahead. She lets him take it, and says I’m a moment of need one of them may wear it and call for her aid. Aid might come.

Says she’ll see them all eventually but first one more question at least: are they to replicate the rite of ascension? That is not possible, she made sure of it.

oh and another! If you go what happens to your champion? I don’t know. I like not knowing.

and more. When was the last time you were surprised? Vax, three decades ago. The sacrifice/s he made.

Mortals are great because they keep defying the gods. And that is a sign the gods should stop forging the future of mortals.

If mortals let them stay they should damn well let the gods know why and renegotiate the terms.

Is there anyway we could help your champion? Destroy the key but make sure to remove the beacon first. As the (Luxon) beacon -in the bloody bridge machine- can change the universe in ways almost as terrifying as Predathos.

Can’t you just cut his thread now? His thread is beyond any of our grasp. (Edit: this refers to Ludinus)

Why are the gods afraid of these? Bc they don’t understand them. And they don’t like to admit they aren’t all knowing or all powerful.

If they should trust the people they fight? That choice is up to them she just wanted to see if they could do what it takes.

Laudna’s fate thread is silver and her fate is between realms, or did but now is connected to other fully living people, turning hers gold. The Matron considers her a victim not anathema. Could Laudna be whole if she continues the path of connections to her friends? Anything is possible.

Matron thinks she “deserves little but remembers what it means to fight for her survival and has her ways.”

[emmitaaa4]

“Elriel is too predictable! It’s boring & lazy writing!”

… 🧍‍♂️

My brother in Christ. You call SJM the fated mates author. Through 15+ books and 3 series she hasn’t diverged from that trope. Elain has a “mate”.

If an Elriel outcome is predictable, it’s because the author willed it so and therefore ✨wrote scenes✨ to ✨develop their relationship✨.

and by that i mean…

(long post ahead…. bear with me)

SJM wrote Mr. “I don’t need to resort to poetry” going all Azriel Allan Poe, flustered as he tells Elain “we are born hearing the song of the wind”. She wrote him uncharacteristically open & talkative, while when he 1st met Feyre he deferred all her questions to others.

SJM wrote that despite how different they may look, Elain does not balk from Az. She never has: from their 1st meeting she finds comfort in him, and he in turn notices her—she’s never been afraid of him, he has always seen her.

SJM wrote the 1st coherent thing to come out of Elain’s mouth in WaR to be “beautiful” as she beholds Azriel’s scarred hands. In turn, she wrote our gardener not minding imperfections on hers, for despite her lady-like conditioning, she prefers to get her hands dirty.

SJM wrote Az spending time with her in the sunshine: no forced conversation, no one hEaLinG anyone, just them both doing their own thing as a relaxed Az suns his wings. Just two pals comfortable with one another… which SJM foreshadowed in MaF through Feyre’s “Elain would likely cling to Az for some peace and quiet”.

SJM wrote Az and Cass both stilling at the sight of El & Nes, she wrote Az cutting in to set Elain up in her garden even as Feyre was about to do it, she wrote the mention that Elain was safe after the twin raven’s attack bc Az had stayed with her at the townhouse.

SJM wrote Azriel’s eyes churning as he looks at Elain and her too-thin body, before abruptly winnowing away, and we’re left with Mor looking at the spot where he left. Wonder what that was about (it certainly did not remind me of Rhys in TaR).

You know, Elriels are not just making stuff up and theorizing about the E/ucien bond cause we’re desperately pulling at straws…

SJM had Madja say “a mate would know if something is amiss”, then wrote a scene juxtaposing both Lucien’s and Azriel’s reactions/assessments of what was going on with Elain… and she had Azriel be the one to know nothing was “wrong” with her—no, she just had rare powers and needed to be heard, to be taken seriously. He didn't let her be misunderstood, for he was the ONLY one that listened to her, that took her visions/ramblings seriously right from the get go. And so he gave Elain the understanding she needed to free herself from the dream-like murky realm she was trapped in. Through it all, SJM emphasizes that Azriel also understands what it is like to struggle with rare, strange, prized powers in silence; what it’s like to be othered by them. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: she sees everything and he hears everything.

SJM wrote that “Elain had hoped that love would trump even a mating bond” and had her characters question the Cauldron in relation to Elucien *twice* (years apart!).

…

SJM wrote Az being the only one—in a room full of Made beings speaking of being Made—to notice that Elain was missing. A reassuring but empty statement by Cass that they’d get her back….but then it was Azriel that stated, eyes glowing golden, that HE would be getting her back, despite the girl’s own sister discouraging him & telling him he’d die. Hell, Feyre had this whole deliberation on whether she’d join him only after he’d say he’d go. His initiative.

The Hybern scene is too long to add, but this post and this theory break it all down brilliantly.

Yes, Az has sacrificial tendencies. Yes, he’d risk his life for loved ones in general. But we have never seen him this affected, and it is because SJM purposely used language to emphasize Elain and Azriel’s meaningful reactions to the other… despite it being wholly “unnecessary”

It is all intentional… lazy’s antonym.

SJM wrote the Truthteller scene. She emphasized the exchange, which left Cassian gasping and Rhys flabbergasted; it also left Feyre with a significant painting in her mind. It lead to Elain, aka “my God has answered me,” stepping out of a shadow to save her sister. Azriel, aka “God is my help”, indeed helped armed Elain so she could answer her sisters prayers.

SJM ended WaR with Elain’s smile literally lighting up Az’s shadows.

SJM had Elain’s thoughtful gift to him make his eyes the brightest we’ve seen—and by doing so gave us the most beautiful description of his earthy eyes, “the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.” We have never seen Az so joyful & carefree throughout the entire series.

SJM wrote that Azriel beat Feyre to Elain’s side as she was looking out into the night. She wrote Elain stilling at the sight of a dashing Azriel—her throat bobbing—while Az “just moved towards her”.

SJM wrote the potato scene—“sit i’ll take care of it”—Azriel again being the one to respect Elain’s presence & contribution as he makes a room full of his “superiors” wait until Elain finishes tidying herself up (cause girlie wanted to look put together for a certain shadowsinger). Mor gapes, Amren smirks, Rhys talks of Az’s mom… all because of that surprising, singular behaviour from him.

SJM wrote Az making a joke at Amren’s expense upon noticing Elain’s discomfort; our girl’s shoulders indeed relax in relief. THE LIGHT RETURNS IN HER EYES.

SJM has Azriel staying up past 3am with Elain, listening to her speak of something she is passionate of.

SJM wrote Azriel spending an entire convo with his brothers looking out into the garden from the window (SJM mentioned it 4 times yet some still missed it).

SJM wrote Rhys goading Az for a reaction as he quizzes him on Lucien and Grayson; wrote Rhys realizing that Azriel did not want to know what Elain did with Lucien (in the case she did anything). She wrote Azriel nervously stuttering as he asks risks if they need to get the sisters a present… I wonder why.

And Rosehall… SJM wrote ROSEhall: cracktheory this cracktheory that, to the gwonriels I’d say we both know you wouldn’t say it’s irrelevant had SJM chosen to call his estate Tealhall.

~~~~

Keep in mind: SJM could have written those significant scenes and ultimately kept it PG: she could have chosen language that built up a profound platonic relationship.

Yet… in MaF she has Feyre comment that they would be good together—as in make a good *couple*. WaR roles in and they’re both dealing with the very public rejections they went through—but SJM had them build a quiet companionship in the background, while giving them a wealth of scenes of great significance for both their characters, and while using language like “she DEVOURED the sight of him” “he CRADLED her to his chest”. In FaS they are slowly but surely getting over their last loves, and SJM continues developing their connection.

And in ACOSF, in the book that supposedly “ended” Elriel…

SJM wrote Az following the sound of her laugh (😭). “ It’s just lust” PLEASE BFFR.

SJM chose to remind us—THREE times—of the Hybern rescue scene... then had Az tell Cass that he’d know, in his chest, if something happened to Nesta.

SJM had Az longingly stare at the gift Elain gave him every night for a YEAR—mind plagued by thoughts of her—made him so affected by her that he had reactions to every mention of her name in SF, so affected that it took Nes one look at them to notice his feelings, to reach out in comfort upon noticing the pain that keeping himself apart from to her caused him. As SJM said she would, Nes saw through his secret in ACOSF, still it is “his secret to tell, never hers”. After Solstice we are met with a grumpy Azriel, who lost the snowball fight for the 1st time in centuries (i wonder why…).

SJM chose to link his every secret back to his feelings for Elain, as per the bonus . Why does he stay up so late and wake up so early? He longs for Elain so much he can’t sleep. Why is he staying in the HoW? It is too hard to be close to Elain given their circumstances; he must physically distance himself from her. Why has he moved on from Mor after centuries? Elain. Why is he grumpy post Solstice? The argument with Rhys concerning Elain.

~~~~

Ultimately, SJM wrote for Elriel:

- Complementary imagery (flowers and death? light and dark blending together to form something new… DUSK, anyone?)

- AND plot altering scenes

- AND chose to liken them to one another multiple times

- AND genuine moments of companionship that slowly bloomed into something more…

… Is it so insane to believe that maybe SJM spent so much page time and effort building connections & common ground between them because she intends for elain & az to find peace and quiet within one another?

Or idk, maybe it was all for shits and giggles… and if it was i salute her commitment to the shits and the giggles🫡

Either way, it is the opposite of lazy writing…

It’s SJM’s world & words, and we are just reading them.

P.S: This was all just typed on my cell phone from the top of my head… yes remembering all this is probs concerning, yes I am obsessed. Please correct me if I got anything wrong.

[blackbird5154]

I'd like to talk about why Rite Here Rite Now has script problems (as well as Ghost lore in general).

Even taking into account that this is a concert movie, a movie in which the presentation of the characters is of secondary importance, there are still certain requirements to that presentation. Over the years, we have been told a story. There is an expectation that there is some consistency in that story: causes must produce effects. I'm talking about the point that in a “good story” the actions of the characters have consequences. If a cold-blooded murder occurs, the characters responsible must either go through an arc of remorse or receive some sort of retribution for their actions. You can't kill three iconic characters and just forget about that and move on. The consequences can be different, depending on how the author wants to develop this theme. But they have to be.

I'm not really clear on how Tobias is developing Copia. The first time he appeared, he threatened Terzo behind his back and promised to stomp him into the dirt. You can still find that video on the official Instagram. Obviously, he was involved in the murder that Sister organized and had a vested interest, or maybe he was even an executioner himself. Either way, he ascended to the position over the corpses of his predecessors, and that's clearly what he was aiming for. Even the introduction to RHRN shows him as a maximally selfish character who thinks only of his own success and survival: he believes that he is a better entertainer than his brothers and that he doesn't deserve the same fate. However, the movie tries to instill in us that Copia is a good man who is worthy of sympathy and hope that his fate will be better than his predecessors. I wonder why exactly he has earned such privileges.

Sister Imperator is portrayed from the beginning to the very end as an overbearing, dominant, cruel woman. She obviously hated the brothers and didn't just organize their murder, but did it with relish (a cruel joke just before the injection). She has taken over all the remaining characters, becoming the de facto leader of the Clergy, and has succeeded in building her empire. She controls Copia's every step and also tells Nihil what to do. Yes, we're shown the motherly side of Sister in the movie: she seems to really love her son and wants to leave him an empire to inherit. But that doesn't atone for her cruel behavior, sadism and the crimes she has committed in the past.

Nihil is shown as an irresponsible and weak-willed man, an unreliable lover, a careless father who allows his sons to die. He tends to wallow in fantasies, replacing reality with them and allowing horrific events to happen literally in front of his nose. He was a bad father to his official sons and a bad father to Copia. He is probably the only one in the movie who went through personal growth: he was finally able to talk to his youngest son, finally became a good father to him. But his older sons are still dead and it doesn't seem to be a problem for him.

Apparently, Tobias decided to move from more gory plots to more family-oriented ones. All three characters are now presented as a caring, somewhat weird, but loving family. Their past has been left out of the picture. They haven't drawn conclusions from their mistakes, they haven't atoned for their wrongs, they haven't gotten what they deserve. The screenwriter seems to have forgotten that the members of this family recently killed each other with minimal regret. It doesn't matter now, because the previous characters are just “taxodermically propped up” stuff. The woman who manipulated other people and destroyed everyone who stood in the way of her ambitious plans, dies a peaceful death in the family circle, having achieved all her goals and leaving an inheritance to her son. A happy ending for the sadistic bitch. She's now a positive character, and her peaceful death closes the possibility for a fairer ending to this arc.

Copia who all along demonstrated passivity, infantilism and inability to make any decision, also got his happy ending. You may feel differently about Copia, but I still remember him wearing Terzo's white gloves in concert like some kind of trophy. I remember him threatening Terzo in a tape deck commercial. Why have we all collectively decided to forget that? This is a man who got everything for free, thanks to his mother's patronage. We're even shown how he spends his free time: playing video games, loafing around and avoiding adult responsibilities like paying bills. He just goes with the flow, accepting the blood-stained regalia that is handed to him. And now once again we see another promotion just falling into his lap. What did he do to deserve it? Yes, I agree, he did a good job on stage during his eras. So did the First, the Second and the Third! However, now they are “taxodermically propped up” and he is Frater Imperator.

Apparently Tobias is now targeting a younger audience and use a more pedagogical style. If this is true, perhaps he should have shown how the characters take responsibility for their past. The statement “live here and now, stop thinking about the past” sounds immoral coming from the mouths of characters who have committed multiple murders and have not repented of them. Injustice and inconsistency are two words that come to mind when I think about how this story ended. Sometimes I feel like these characters are just plastic toys for Tobias to play with, and in the process he forgets where the game started.

The problem is that some do remember. Some remember everything.

[melkyt]

Red String of Fate LawLu soulmate au.

Law takes comfort in the taut and thick string stretching into the distance all his life. He has always taken comfort in it. When everyone was dying around him, talking of how their strings turned white, his stayed red and vibrant in a world of colorless gray.

He would spend days just twisting it around his fingers as he waited for the disease to take him. Always wondering what his fated one thought of having a dying love somewhere out there on the sea.

When Corazon met his end, and his own thread gained strength, he never even started looking. Law never believed that his soulmate would still hang on to such a weak soul as his. He had settled to never find love.

Then he meets Luffy, and their threads connect and fade. Law is silent, stunned. It is too hard to believe. Luffy just grins, taking Law's hands in his. "I'm glad you survived Traffy"

And that's it, despite Law's doubts and tendencies to run from commitment, Luffy does not leave him alone. Always finding him when the Straw Hat crew has time to relax. Law doesn't do as much as he can in avoiding them.

Then, they make their plan to take down Kaido. It is dangerous, and Law worries more than he has in a long time. He knows that fate loves taking everything that he loves. What if something happens to Luffy? His doubts never go away even if he pushes them down deep.

Luffy sees that Law worries and gets clingier than usual, promising that no matter what, they will all survive.

Law holds onto those words, and as Luffy leaves to fight Kaido, he keeps the red string wrapped around his fingers, so it is in view at all times.

This proves to be a mistake that breaks his fragile peace. The thread that has been the strong constant, present, thins and snaps. It disintegrates in a white mist.

Law drops his sword, his knees give out. Luffy's name falls from his lips in a gut-wrenching scream. Kidd is by his side, blocking big mom. He has no time to check on the warlord but understands well enough what happened.

He knew this would happen, why didn't he try harder to be there for Luffy? They couldn't avoid fighting Kaido, not with their honor at stake, but he should have been there on that roof, supporting his fated one.

Again, he has failed. Again, his cursed soul touched something beautiful and watched it fade away. They should have never met. He can't take this. Tears spill, leaving trails in the dirt and dust covering the pale patches left over from his disease.

"Focus, Trafalgar!" Kidd snaps. "We aren't done yet"

Big Mom laughs, raising her sword. Metal sparks with impact.

"Strawhat ain't dead, no way," he growls, putting as much conviction as he can into his words, even if he does not believe it. The sounds of battle from above have disappeared.

Law looks down at his hands, studying each finger, looking for any sign of the string. If he is alive, it has to be there. He digs at his palm, blood spilling. He wills it to come together into a string, he begs whatever fate, whatever god there is in this world to bring Luffy back. "You're not allowed to die, you promised," He hisses. "Please, Luffy, dont do this," he begs, doubling over. His hands shake. It's not too late to use his power. It can't be. Law gets up on unsteady legs. Not paying attention to Kidd, Big Mom, or Kaido's floating goading form. He needs to reach the roof.

The room gets hotter as Kaido readies an attack that will take them all out. Perhaps that is for the best. Law is so tired. He has his own promise to keep to Corazon, but how much longer can he keep going?

He looks up, ready for the fire to reach them. The glow dancing over tear stained cheeks. Law eyes flutter shut. He focuses on the memories he shared with Luffy. It is not enough. He had spent too much avoiding their connection that the few bright moments they shared feel lacking. Law wants more, it can't be over.

He faintly hears a rhythm past the roar of blood in his ears. It almost sounds like a heartbeat, not his own. His is much weaker, fluttering irregular thing. It feels familiar.

Law opens his eyes only to flinch away. The ruined castle is filled with light as bright as the sun. It is not the light of a fire. "Thank You..." he whispers before he fully understands what it means.

Law lifts his hands up to the sky. Clouds twist around his fingers as they solidify into a white soft thread. It wraps around his ring finger, its fibers pulsing with the same odd rhythm. "He's alive, alive." Law feels a weight he has been carrying for so long, lift, just with those simple words. "He kept his promise." Law swallows his feelings. Maybe he can go a little longer. If Luffy can defy death, then so can he.

-end scene-

After they beat Kaido, Law is the one who does not let Luffy go. Not leaving his soulmates' side for anything in the three days that Luffy sleeps.

[httyddragonfox]

The Dragon Prince: Hatred & Vengeance vs Justice.

We are always told that Justice is better than Vengeance. If someone does something morally wrong with no defense for their actions, then they need to be brought to their actions.

Viren killed Rayla's parents, at least put them in a fate worse than death, she is justified in her hatred. Viren is also a threat to Xadia, a threat to peace, willing to kill a baby dragon, start a war with Xadia, kills humans just to achieve that war. He's dangerous and needs to be dealt with. That's justice. Do what needs to be done and nothing more. However, when Viren disappears, Rayla can't rest until she knows he's gone. She gets obsessed with revenge and this makes her leave Callum behind, believing she was doing what was best for him. As she admits in the second arc, it was wrong to leave him behind and go searching for Viren. She didn't even find him so all she did was leave Callum for 2 years.

Then there's the characters who lost who they loved in similar situations.

Avizandum, the Dragon King, struck down Sarai as she attempted to save Viren's life. She didn't want to go on the mission to Xadia, she thought it was wrong what they were doing, but she died doing the right thing. Avizandum was protecting the border, he was doing his job, he's not a threat to anyone who doesn't cross it. There's no need for violent justice, sadly. It was cruel, but that's just how things were.

Similarly, Leola was tattled on by Anak Arow, which caused the Star touch elves to deem her worthy of death. Her crime, she gave magic to humans, and thanks to divination, they foresaw that this would lead to the end. Yet, she was a child who just wished to be kind to the people she loved. They were just enacting what they saw as justice, it's cruel and sad, but there is no need for justice as violence.

The best form of justice here, is making sure they don't die in vain, to fulfill their wishes. For Sarai, making sure the people could survive the winter. For Leola, making sure the humans had a chance.

However, justice is doing what is necessary and nothing more.

Both Aaravos, as well as Callum and Harrow, are justified in their hatred. (Heck, I hate the Star touch elves and Leola is not even my daughter).

How they act on their hatred determines who they are as people.

Harrow was willing to leave Avizandum alone, knowing vengeance for Sarai would not fix anything, only creating a bigger mess. Callum seeing Avizandum dead does not bring him joy, despite still hating the dragon. The reason, he's sad for Zym, it's his father and Zym is an innocent. Zym had nothing to do with what happened to his mom, heck Zym is a friend. Who is he to wish the death of a parent on him, despite it already happened, he can't be happy for it knowing what Zym has to live with.

Then there's Aaravos, who has spent centuries enacting his vengeance, trying so hard to destroy the cosmic order. Leola would have been content with humans just knowing primal magic, but he chose to make a bigger mess of things by giving them dark magic. He not only enacts vengeance on Sol Regum, but causes the end of several Xadian rulers all to cause war and have Xadia destroy itself. He killed Khessa for no reason, tried to kill baby Zym for no real reason, and had Katollis destroyed for no real reason (he could have had Claudia sneak in and get it). When Sol Regum eventually does die, Aaravos has to taunt him over the fact he's been manipulated for centuries, and enjoys his suffering. Meanwhile, he doesn't care that a kingdom of innocent people got torched.

Aaravos doesn't seem to care about lives anymore, only seeing people as potential pawns. He seems to enjoy arrogant people meeting their end in painful, humiliating ways, even if those people had nothing to do with his suffering.

Terry is right: What happened to him was awful, but he's been so twisted by hatred and vengeance that it's turned him into a monster with no concern for life, living for the suffering of others.

Callum and Harrow are better for attempting to not let their hatred rule them, Rayla is better for choosing justice over vengeance, but Aaravos is a villain for choosing violence and chaos and war.

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: In coven we trust. 3390 words.

1986

Seven years of cheated death,

Felt deep pain but kept his breath.

These plants I crush and bend to will,

Impart my magic,

Let me heal to kill.

Remembering Henry Creel was bittersweet. There was the craft. There was Eddie, spitting out, “There is nothing you can offer that sees you survive me,” to a dying Vecna. There was victory. But there was Steve Harrington’s ghost. The broken bones and bodies of children. There was death, so much death, in Hawkins.

“A witch, all of the witches, could never have killed that monster,” you said. “He was undead. Beyond the science and magic of this world. He would have killed everyone in that town, then the country, then the world. He would have won.”

Gillian narrowed her eyes, her hands not moving off your shoulders. “And so, you theorised a vampire could kill him? And just so happened to find the right bat and unhexed it just in time?”

Retelling history differently made you like them, you decided. Gillian’s recount wasn’t how the timeline unraveled, and though it painted you in a much better light than the truth, the truth is all you had.

You pushed your aunt off you, took a shaky breath in, and retrieved your chair. Sitting back down, you put your palms flat on the wooden table top.

“I heard a voice call to me. The voice of fate,” you began.

As you spoke, you realised the truth punished them more than the lie would have. No, you weren’t a whip-smart witch more powerful than all the others. You were a lost little sheep, lied to by your family, used by fate, but given comfort in the one way the coven couldn’t comprehend.

You told them the story, entirely, truthfully.

“And now I am here. I don’t know what I want from it. From either of you. I really don’t. But you need to give Kelsey her memories back. And you have to reconcile the idea of a good vampire,” you finished, exhausted.

“She’s right,” Sally said to her sister. “About Kelsey,”

“I’m right about both,” you correct.

“I feel that the right decision was made that night,” Gillian started. “But it was come to in the wrong way. We should have spoken to The Witches Who Came Before. We should not have become a three-headed dictator… The secrecy ends now; we take it to the coven.”

You and your mother were stunned into silence. Involving the entire coven was destroying any notion of a peaceful resolution. You began to list the possible outcomes in your head. Someone being excommunicated. Eddie being hunted. A coven in ruins. But Gillian was right. There was no way forward but the truth.

“Kelsey comes first…” You stood. “I’ll go to her now. I need to see her. I’ll bring her up later.”

Without a word of goodbye or softness of smile, you left Sally and Gillian in their kitchen, your mulberry tea going cold in the fine bone china teacup.

On the walk back down to Kelsey’s cabin, your jaw was clenched so tightly it ached. You were willing yourself not to cry, but as soon as you snuck through the back door and into the cozy warmth of the cabin, you fell to the floor.

Eddie scurried out of the coat pocket and flapped his wings, begging to be returned to his normal state. You said the spell with your final piece of coherence. In a second, he was pulling you into his lap and holding you as you sobbed.

Kelsey heard all of this from the next room over, unsure of what she would find when she opened the door. She could tell you weren’t alone. The bat man. But she hadn’t worked out what exactly the bat man was. Whatever it was, he was good at soothing you.

Within minutes, he’d comforted you to a calm and Kelsey knocked on the door once before entering.

You and Eddie looked up at her.

“Oh,” was all she said at first. A couple beats of silence. Then, “This man is naked.”

You laughed, looked at Eddie. He seemed unconcerned. You were sitting in his lap, providing the most basic kind of coverage.

“His clothes are in my car,” you told Kels, wiping your tears away.

“That makes sense. I already brought your stuff in. I wondered what was going on there. Thought maybe you’d killed a hitchhiker for his boring clothes or something,” she replied, words yelled from the next room over, as she collected Eddie’s clothes from where she’d put them.

The clothes replaced you on Eddie’s lap, and you left to join Kelsey in the living room. You sat side by side on the sofa, holding hands. Resting your head on her shoulder you held back more tears.

Eddie emerged, taking a tentative seat on an armchair across from you.

“So… Where are your manners?” Kelsey asked you, nodding over to Eddie.

“I believe we have met before,” Eddie answered for you. “Fern,”

“Well fuck. It’s Kelsey now… I knew I was missing something…”

You sat up and looked at her. “It’s my fault. My mother… and Gillian and Penelope. They took our memories because of what I did. And I don’t know how to even begin to make that up to you,”

“What did you do?”

“Me,” Eddie quickly replied.

Kelsey laughed. Then abruptly stopped. She looked at his dark eyes and creamy skin and smooth movement. “Well fuck!”

Before she could scream or attack, you stood up, placing yourself between them. “He’s good! He’s not like the others! He’s-”

“Woah, calm down! Obviously… It’s not as though you’re stupid enough to resurrect a vampire for no reason. And the reason is obviously… at least, partly… that he’s not… not a monster.”

You pulled her into an aggressively tight hug, while Eddie tried to process the fact that there were now two witches who did not see him as a monster.

“I love you,” you told her.

“I love you too,”

“You gotta go get your memories back now. They’re waiting.”

You watched Kelsey go before turning back to Eddie. He was sitting casually, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. Being free and clear with him felt so close.

“Come,” he ordered.

Immediately, you folded yourself onto his lap, letting him hold you again.

“They won’t ever admit it. They know, they fucking know what they did to me, but they won’t ever say sorry for it. They’re gonna live like that forever. Up there. Alone and all fucked up over it,”

“Let them,”

“How am I meant to live like this though? This is meant to be my home too. I’m as much a part of this coven as them. But I feel like I don’t belong here anymore,”

“I think Kelsey would disagree. And if she does, others will too. Perhaps the others learning the truth will be a good thing.”

Eddie had one armed around you, keeping you close, while he used his free hand to bring your fingertips to his mouth for small fairy-light kisses. You closed your eyes.

“I want to think about something else. Even for a minute.”

Eddie hummed, thinking of another topic. “After watching Hawkins develop, and seeing the cities, I had expected your coven to be enjoying an urbanite lifestyle… Microwaving potions and subway rat familiars…”

You smiled. “Yeah, well… I don’t know. We had spent all our lives so singularly focused on vampires, that when the war was over and we left Hawkins behind… I think we got a little lost. Everyone tried to carry on as normal but that didn’t last long… It felt like we all began to heal a little better when we came up here. Not all of us did though. Some of the coven live closer to New York. I guess we’re still trying to work out exactly what it means to be a witch without a cause in a modern world that doesn’t need us like it did.”

Eddie nodded, understanding the feeling of being a living anachronism. Still, he hadn’t provided an adequate distraction.

“I don’t think I am the only non-witch here,” he offered.

You sat up to look at him properly. “What do you mean?”

“I can hear the heartbeats. Dozens of witches. Countless birds and snakes. Chipmunks. The deer and cats and bears. The odd… What did you call them? Bigfeet?”

Laughing, you shook your head. “Bigfoot. Wait. Actually. I don’t know the plural of Bigfoot. Or the collective noun,”

“Well, there’s at least three around. But beneath all that, there’s something else. It’s faint. But it’s there. And I can smell something. I don’t think they’re the same creature.”

You considered this information. “There’s bound to be other magical beings here,”

“Yes. But they are close. Too close to not be within the walls of your coven,”

“Great. Just when I thought we had solved all our mysteries,”

“If one of your sisters is harbouring an outlaw monster or lost other-worldly entity, who are we to interrupt?” Eddie whispered conspiratorially.

“Maybe I should start a support group for witches who fall in love with non-witch non-human creatures.”

Eddie laughed. “You should. I think you’d find you have many allies.”

…

Kelsey quietly came through the back door of her cabin. She found Eddie in the same armchair she’d left him in, you asleep in his lap. She flopped onto the sofa and stared into the flames of her fireplace.

Eddie could tell she had been crying, her mascara messy and her nose red. She wore sadness the same way you did.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

Kels shook her head. “This is on them,” she whispered back. “And they still think they did the right thing,”

“Perhaps they did by the coven.”

Kelsey frowned at looked at Eddie. “Witches have made a lot of hard decisions. We preserve as much life and good as we can. And… yeah, we have bargained with lives before… But it’s always been the last resort. We have always weighed up the value and consequences of all routes forward. We aren’t rash. Or a dictatorship. And we have never and will never have the luxury of small and singlemindedness…”

Eddie loved her. It was like meeting your twin, and though Kelsey seemed slightly more put together than you, a little less unhinged, he guessed her madness manifested differently.

“The betrayal isn’t what they did. It’s that they did it alone and with their self-appointed authority,” Eddie concluded.

Kels nodded, studying Eddie carefully. “Why do you think you’re like this?”

He looked away from her to you. He smiled sadly. “I don’t know. Making a vampire is less of a science more of a… crime against nature… But, from what I have seen, it is all meant to happen quickly. Someone tried to save me. It didn’t work. I died and I came back. But… not all of me died. And not all of me came back.”

Kelsey thought about it. “So, you’re a bit of a freak of nature,”

“I suppose, yes,”

“It sounds… lonely,”

“It was,” Eddie agreed.

“Until you met this little freak of nature,” she replied, pointing to you.

Eddie chuckled. “Yes. Fate was kind to me that day,”

“Ah, yes, our mutineer fate. She’s off the rails…”

They sat for a moment, in the quiet Catskills, watching the fireplace snap, crackle, and pop.

“There’s going to be a meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll wake you up then,” Kelsey announced, standing up and stretching, ready to go to bed.

“I’ll already be awake,”

“Oh. Right. You can’t sleep,”

“Not like this. That’s one of the bat spell perks,” Eddie told her.

“You don’t want to change then? I can set up a little bed for you guys,”

“No. I’ll hold her. Let her sleep.” The love felt like a presence in the room. It had in 1836 and it still did

…

“In 1836, Penelope, Sally, and I made a decision on behalf of the coven. Today, you are to learn of this decision, and the circumstances surrounding it,” Gillian announced to the coven, who had gathered at sunrise in the hall used for meetings and parties. The floorboards were speckled with glitter that could never be fully cleaned off. Not even with magic.

“That year, I… grew to know… a being that was unlike any other. He was a vampire-” No cliché gasps, just dozens of eyes set firm on you, waiting for the punchline. “And for reasons neither of us could explain, he wasn’t like the others. It was as if his soul was left intact. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine. He wasn’t a monster. He was an outcast in his colony. We became friends. Then became more. I didn’t tell anyone.”

There was whispering, but no raging chaos. Not yet.

“Sally and Gillian had found him. Taken him to Penelope. I couldn’t let it happen. Penelope hadn’t found a way to kill them yet. I knew what she was doing to them. But he wasn’t like them. And I couldn’t let it happen. I begged for his life. I begged them to let him go. To kill us both, if they were to kill him. Anything. Anything that kept me with him.”

It was your job to tell the story, but at your hesitation, your moment of being lost in the memory, your mother stepped in.

“If we could have killed him, we would have. Instead, we hexed him with a transformation spell. He was to spend all eternity as a beast, his memories gone. We knew if it was left at that, it was likely she would find him and restore him. For the safety of the coven, we took her memories. And Kelsey’s, as she was a witness to this night.”

Finding your voice again, you looked at the faces of your sisters. “Nothing has felt right since then. I’ve been… missing something. Directionless. Until I returned to the flatlands.”

The coven braced themselves, some already predicting how the story would end.

“Fate called me there and pushed me into place. I found him. The beast - a bat. I restored him to his true form. Together, we killed Henry Creel. But without him, I couldn’t have. None of us could have. It was only ever going to be at the hands of another undead creature. After that, we worked on our memories. We got them back. I remember everything.”

A silence fell over the hall, everyone deep in thought.

“We concede that we should have consulted the coven before taking such drastic action. We should have consulted The Witches Who Came Before. However, we did what was right for the coven as a whole. There is no such thing as a good vampire,” Gillian stated.

They all looked to you for a response. “There is. As there are dark witches. Creatures we haven’t met. And other dimensions we do not know about. I don’t know what I wanted, coming back here, and doing all of this. If I have to stand here and ask for it though… I guess, just assurance that if I leave, nobody will come after us. That he is left alone.”

From your coat pocket, Eddie shifted, a small reminder that he was with you.

“And for our part, we ask the coven to come to a decision. We will no longer act outside the bounds of the group,” Gillian added. 

Slowly, murmurs to the person next to them turned to conversations between smaller, then larger groups. The coven was in talks as the sun filtered through the stained-glass windows, rainbow shapes covering the walls.

Kelsey came to you, held your hand, and nodded. “Whatever happens, I'm on your side.”

After ten minutes or so, one of the older witches in the coven, Anna, watercolor artist by day and tree climber by night, asked across the hall, “May we have question time?”

The questions came hard and fast, in both directions. You had answers for the ones posed to you; you were willing to admit when you were wrong, naive, or put the coven in danger. Sally and Gillian couldn’t fully explain their actions, unwilling to move from their position and unwilling to state their ego got in the way of justice.

The final question was asked by Myra. Myra worked as an accountant. By choice. She liked numbers and was good at helping people budget. She was one of the most human of the witches in the coven.

She turned to you, sweet-faced and unassuming. “Do you want to stay here? Is there space within a coven for this discord?”

Before you could answer, Ev stepped forward. Ev had been working as an autopsy technician since spending the early 1740s in Italy, befriending childhood sweethearts Anna Morandi and Giovanni Manzolini. “I value loyalty and love above all else,” they said. Ev looked directly at you. “I will follow you wherever you go.”

Meg, who you were pretty sure was responsible for the North Americans learning about cinnamon rolls from the Swedish, stepped up next. “It’s simple… We’re meant to be a family. You can’t just make decisions for all of us, without all of us being involved,” she said to Sally and Gillian. “But you, this doesn’t mean I agree with being put in danger. I just don’t think having your memories toyed with was the right thing to do.”

You nodded, understanding. Meg baked fluffy cinnamon rolls bigger than your head; it was silly and selfish, but you felt immense joy at the prospect of having those in your life again.

Like Myra and Ev, Hailey had a mortal day job. She worked from the Catskills restoring and binding antique books. Sometimes, if you looked hard enough, you could see the characters that were awfully Hailey-shaped in some of the stories. She used to have a habit of inserting herself into the lives of prolific writers. Byron never stood a chance.

“Meg’s right. As a coven, we should be consulting everyone. It’s not a dictatorship, especially when there’s wrongdoing occurring. That isn’t a decision for just a select few; that is a decision for all the coven,” Hailey argued.

“And isn’t our loyalty to each other? Tradition is sacred, but in time those can change. It’s each other, all of us, that get us through. Loyalty to a friend before loyalty to an institution,” Ash said, adding to the growing chorus. Ash had always been good at making an argument. She was in the midst of trying to convince Meg to open a bakery with her. Those cinnamon rolls would look great next to my lemon lavender cupcakes.

Melissa had been standing to the side of the group. The thing about Mel was her gifts doubled as her curse. She could be in a room of people, in a crowd united with single focus, and still feel and be separate from everyone else. It’s why she was an inspired music journalist; she saw more than the band on stage, but the living creature of the venue. She saw the bigger picture of not just the songs but the fans and the cultural impacts. Mel was talented, but often alone on her laptop in the dead of night.

You watched her stand up straight from the wall she’d been leaning against. She looked at you and raised her hand. The coven hushed, surprised by her request for attention.

“No one deserves to have memories of love taken away…” The sentiment echoed what the others had been saying. Yet, from Mel, it seemed to hold a sad weight. “Sometimes memories are all we have.”

Every witch in the coven pictured then, those they had loved and lost. Or worse – those they hadn’t even had the chance to properly love at all.

You smiled at Mel, but she broke eye contact and went back to where she was before, ever the wallflower.

Maybe there hadn’t been a need for all your worrying and all your fear. Maybe your sisters were more ready for change than you had given them credit for. Just as you were trying to imagine what a coven different to this one could look like, the voice of dissent sounded.

End note: Thank you to the following witches for the inspiration: @vintagehellfire @courtingchaos @pastel-pillows @ghost-proofbaby @kookygranger @toomanyacorns - you will all continue to be a part of this story.

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16

[burningdreambanana]

An analysis on how the show turned Alicent into an accidental villain (part 2)

The portrayal of Alicent in season 2 is bizarre to say the least. On one hand, it seems like the writers are trying to keep her as a "good" character. On the other hand, it seems like they are trying really hard to humiliate her.

First of all, this desire to “humble” Alicent seems very strange considering they’ve went out of their way to portray Alicent as possible by making her crown Aegon based on a misunderstanding, she wasn’t aware of the plan to crown him, she refused to have Rhaenyra killed. 

Second of all their attempt to make Alicent sympathetic or a victim also fail spectacularly.

Alicent's behavior this season is utterly self-centered, delusional and stupid. To the point that it's comical at times

In this season she :

sleeps with Cole while leaving the door unlocked

barely gives a shit when her grandson is brutally murdered. Seriously, Alicent's lack of care for her grandchildren is disturbing, does she even know their names?

recognizes that Aegon is eager to please, proceeds to do nothing about it despite her "intelligence" and later insults him while he's already down and causes him to put himself in danger

feels very shallow guilt for that

doesn't take time to help her children with their grief, even though it's not even like she feels any grief herself that would overwhelm her

never proposes any plan of action at the council, yet expects not only to be taken seriously but to made regent, even though making Aemond regent makes perfect sense since he's the heir and the Green's biggest advantage

has the enemy near her, unprotected, and lets her go because of sentimentality

after not being made regent, instead of trying trying to leverage her influence in other ways, she just abandons, and then soon after betrays her entire family and faction

SHE CONDEMNS HER FAMILY TO DEATH. Seriously, Aegon, Aemond, Daeron and Otto are all dead if Rhaenyra becomes queen.

She doesn't even have the decency to share their fate (since she's admitting her mistakes), she is ready to just go live her best life in peace (where and how exactly, we don't know)

In the show, she is largely responsible for the beginning of the Dance, since apparently Rhaenyra would not have done anything to her siblings if Aegon was never crowned and the King's word is the only claim considered valid, yet she acts all season like she has no responsibility for it and condemns violence (like what did you think would happen when you dragged Aegon to the throne????). Which also feels very shallow because as a youtuber pointed out in their video about s2 of HOTD, just because we believe war is bad, doesn't mean we will automatically buy that medieval characters would believe that. They needed to establish in s1 that Alicent and Rhaenyra care about the innocents, not just be like we'll they are woman of course they care ! That's lazy

Plus all the random things Alicent does while her family is tearing itself apart like getting eaten out before a council, taking baths, lighting candles, swimming fully clothed, which many find boring but I just find very funny in how absurd it is.

In conclusion of both parts of this analysis, Alicent is a crazy, petty, bitter, jealous, self-centered, dumb, incompetent, delusional, hypocritical, judgmental, treacherous abusive mother with no self-awareness who doesn't love any of her children except Helaena (and that's debatable considering she was willing to let Daemon get away with what he did to her, she's more of a prop to her than a daughter), doesn't care about her grandchildren, doesn't care about her father, brother and lover, who refuses to take responsibilities for her action and is ready to sacrifice tons of people for her "freedom".

Which is fine, but then go all in, make her a soap opera villain and make us love to hate her. They could do that by stressing the comedic elements of a character like that, example: Joffrey is horrible but he is often very funny to watch, Lucille Bluth is another good example of a horrible but incredibly entertaining character.

[ficdumper]

We don't talk about Lucifer

Description: There was a time where you and your brother were inseparable, but everything changed when you fell. Not only was it silently agreed to never talk about him again, but many started wondering whether you will meet the same fate

Type: one-shot, songfic

Tags: angst, open angsty ending

Reader info: GN, Lucifer's sibling, a seraphim

Warnings: slight gore, murder

Song: Mirabel's villain song by Lydia the bard (can be found on YouTube)

We don't talk about Lucifer, no, no

We don't talk about Lucifer

But

Heaven is perfect, any angel would say that. It was true, with it's fluffy clouds and bright skies

Heaven is a paradise, a sacred safe place. And it was true for you, until they cast out Lucifer.

At first your reaction was denial. You just couldn't accept the reality of the situation - your brother, the biggest dreamer you've ever known, was casted out for being different. So what if he made a mistake, aren't angels supposed to be forgiving?

Whenever you actually left your home, everyone either looked at you with pity or looked away, pretending they didn't see you.

You made him walk away

He left himself or so you say

But I've heard another take

Next came the fury. Your eyes lost the once bright spark, your heart grieving, full of anger. You couldn't understand, how was his act so bad they sent him to the fiery pits of Hell for the rest of eternity? It wasn't fair! Not to him, not to the now free willed humans, not to you. They dared to separate you from your brother and expected you to just accept it? Accept as they say vile things about him, about what a disgrace he was?

Accept as they whispered: will they be the same?

You hide in your storm and close off from the rain

But don't see the damage in your wake

Still failing to accept your reality even after decades, if not centuries, after what happened, you continued trying to talk to the highest angels you could find, hoping to ease their decision. But, to no avail.

At first, they tried to let you down politely, telling you that the past can't be changed, that it was God's will, that it was your brother's fault. The more you tried to say something, the more they disapproved, ignoring you like they did Lucifer and his dreams, whispering behind your back. Tired from your constant attempts, they stopped answering. You were warned to stop trying unless you want to make a mistake.

You didn't want to fall like him, did you?

From Lucifer you turn on me

You whisper as if I don't see

The fear, the dread of what I'll be

Slowly being broken down by others' ignorance, you started to lose whatever remained of your hope. No-one grieved your brother, no-one missed his bright eyes full of dreams. Instead, they avoided talking about him as if he was the plague, infecting anyone who stood beside him. They hated talking about him, but seemed to love calling you a curse like him, a disaster waiting to happen.

No-one was going to forgive him, those so called epitomes of mercy and forgiveness, so what's the point?

But we don't talk about Lucifer, no, no

Slowly but surely, you accepted that he was never coming back. You had a lot of time to think about everything that happened. And what did you realise? You realised that heaven is full of liars, that God wasn't merciful, that the angels didn't care about anyone even slightly different from them, including you.

For years you stayed silent, afraid of falling like him. But you started getting tired of them either walking all over you or acting as if you didn't exist. Anyone would get exhausted by this constant abuse, even if they would rather die than admit it. Still, you were an angel. You were supposed to represent kindness, peace, forgiveness.

But how could you ever forgive them for their neglect?

We don't talk about Lucifer

...

Time to bring this family down

Yeah I'm the villain in your fairy tale now

If someone told you even a century ago that one day you will be a murderer, you would've laughed in their face, saying that it wasn't a holy thing to do. But pain changes people.

And here you were now, years later, standing over a fellow seraphim's body. Your hands and outfit were covered in golden blood, guess the angels weren't as untouchable as you were told. Their once bright halo was seemed to burn your hands, but it was worth it.

The sand's run out

And there's just you to blame

How's it feel to stain your family name

The pain meant you won, no-one else will underestimate you again. They won't dare, those scared chockens. You won't let them dismiss you again.

They could have easily avoided this situation if it wasn't for their ignorance. Sure, you brought shame to heaven. Yes, you will now forever be a monster in their eyes. But you will finally be free from them. Even if it meant losing your grace. Even if it meant falling.

I'll reclaim all that I've lost

See you understand what your apathy cost

It's your end of days and I'll still hear you say

We don't talk about Lucifer, no, no

"Y/N Morningstar. For your blasphemous murder of a fellow angel, you are sentenced to become a fallen angel, bound to rot in hell for the rest of eternity"

You couldn't remember the last time an angel was cast out. Standing in the middle of the meeting room, looked at with disgust like usual, you couldn't help but feel a sick satisfaction. You can finally be free. Free from the haunting whispers, free from the hateful glares.

The chains binding your hands burned you, slowly draining your powers. The emptiness that replaced your once beautiful wings felt haunting, blood dripping from your back. Ever the optimist, you still found a sense of beauty in the emptiness. Losing something so connected to your past was a price to pay for a new beginning. One could even call it poetic.

Sera ordered to open the portal to hell. You looked around you one more time, trying to memorize this moment. The faces of your once colleagues, the looks mixed with pity and disgust, the silent questions about what happened to you.

In your last moment in heaven, just before being pushed into the portal, you couldn't help but say:

"Should have talked about Lucifer"

A/N: Hi! This is my first ever songfic ever so I'd be happy to hear your feedback. I have a habit of daydreaming about fandoms and songs at the same time and thought it might be interesting to combine them. I already have another idea what to write about one of the other Lydia the bard's songs, so I'll probably post something about it in the next few days. Hope you enjoyed the angst ;)

[traintrainingmontage]

CW: Engine Death, Mourning

I know that people have written about this before, but...

Could you imagine being Duke, and being found by the Thin Clergyman, and then having this whole book written about your past, including your colleague Stanley/Smudger, and coming to the horrifying realization that, after asking about his fate, nobody knew the answer? And after people on the Skarloey Railway get to digging (because this is a railway that would NEVER let the abandonment of an engine stand), they find out that he's likely STILL down in the mine at Cas-ny-Hawin, never rescued the way Duke was.

It's absolutely gut-wrenching because as they go through the records, it's written that after he broke down in late 1946, the flooding was what caused the mine to close in 1947, and in the records, he's blamed for everything. Every misfortune, laid at Stanley's (tragically metaphorical) wheels. Duke is understandably betrayed and upset, and when Sir Handel Brown hears, he decides he's going to do something about it.

A team is assembled. Fortunately, unlike with how Duke was found, they actually know where he's likely to be, and the excavation begins. The Fat Controller gives his blessing, allowing the use of some of the engines on the Little Western to help the teams out. The Thin Controller and the Foreman personally go down there several times themselves, knowing how worried their beloved engines are.

They finally find him, and... well. Perhaps mercifully, he's gone. Likely died some time ago, from the look of it, although his passing wasn't peaceful. The metal of his body is incredibly rusty, sharp and jagged like claws. With cranes and carts they bring out his remains, into the sun. They then cover him with a tarp, and with all the formality and sobriety of a funeral procession, bring him back to the Skarloey Railway.

Once Stanley is taken from the flatbed and a mournful Douglas has departed, there's a sharp intake of breath from Duke, who had insisted on waiting for news (who insisted on waiting whenever he possibly could, every time the team set out, and if not him, Sir Handel or Peter Sam), tears in his eyes as he finally sees what had become of Stanley.

Finally, the Thin Controller asks Duke what he wants to do. Duke is utterly nonplussed by this; what is being asked, here? And the Thin Controller elaborates: he meant the most to you, Duke, so what should we do with him? It's a bit unorthodox, but they could bury him properly, and return him to the earth. They could clean him up (or not) and preserve him. They could scrap him. But in this, the choice is up to Duke, the only form of apology they can think of, even though it's hardly their fault.

Duke swallows, and then rolls forward, as if taking a closer look. "Do you..." he begins slowly, then lets it go, as if afraid to speak. His eyes meet those of the Thin Controller, and they're not like the manager of the Mid-Sodor's eyes. They see Duke as Duke, the railway's newest friend and colleague, not as their grunt. The difference is astounding.

"Do you... think that any bit of him is still usable?" he asks solemnly, and the Thin Controller hums and looks over to the Foreman. Mr. Hugh runs his eyes over Stanley's frame, his gaze aloof and professional, and nods.

"Yes, I think so."

"Then..." Duke almost mumbles, but forces himself to speak up. "Please... could you... find a use for him? If you melt him down, could you... turn him into something really useful? He deserves that much, especially after never truly getting the chance."

The Foreman is quiet for a moment before he smiles and nods at the old engine. "Yes. I promise you, Duke---Stanley here will have a new lease on life, or at least as much as I can give him."

"Thank you, Sir," Duke replies tiredly, and backs up, not saying another word as Stanley's remains are hauled onto another flatbed and taken to the back of Crovan's Gate.

--------

As soon as Duke lays eyes on the railway's newest engine, Ivo Hugh, he wills himself not to sob. He'd asked about Stanley's remains before, over the years, and only in the past couple of years was he told that the Hughs and the other engineers at Crovan's Gate were planning to use him for something that they were working on in their spare time. Part of him thinks this can't possibly be what they'd used Stanley for, but a warm-hearted glance from David Hugh, who has taken up his father's mantle, makes his breath catch in his pipes.

Stanley has been reborn, in a form more glorious and wonderful than ever, and now he'll truly have a chance at being a really useful engine.

Despite his best efforts, tears start falling down Duke's face. As he struggles to hide them, David Hugh quietly walks over. "Pop and I worked pretty hard on 'em," the Foreman says conversationally, almost casually. "Fred was our first success, so we decided it was about time to make good on that promise."

Duke gives him a watery smile, not trusting himself to speak, but the Foreman understands, and gives him a wide smile in return. "You're family, and we do right by family. Show 'im the ropes, Duke," he grins, giving the old engine a familiar pat before walking away.

Duke takes a deep breath, and rolls forward, meeting the sparkling, curious gaze of the new engine with that of his own. Unbeknownst even to himself, a smile stretches its way across his face--one of relief, and one of regrets no longer lingering.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, young engine. You may call me Duke."