#he's gone that's it and he's up there somewhere beyond the skies or so i would like to think

[saisons-en-enfer]

The passing of my uncle is finally starting to hit really fucking hard

[darlingsblackbook]

Waters of Regret

Neuvilette x Reader

Summary : The clouds in Fontaine have not stopped weeping for a long time, what could have made the hydro dragon so upset?

Wordcount : 1,5k

Warnings : Angst. Sad dragon. Self sabotaging?

°•♡•° Masterlist °•♡•°

The rain in Fontaine had been endless for days. The skies seemed heavier than usual, burdened with a quiet sorrow that settled over the city. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of it every time you looked out the window, watching raindrops race each other down the glass.

It wasn’t unusual for Fontaine to rain. People in the city joked that the Iudex himself dictated the weather, that the clouds were a reflection of his moods. But this storm was different. It was as if the city were crying, and you found yourself wondering if it was because he was too.

Neuvillette had always been distant, unreachable in ways that made your heart ache. You’d spent years by his side, assisting him in his duties, offering silent support even when he didn’t seem to notice. You’d been there for his victories, his struggles, and the quiet moments in between, hoping he would one day see you as more than a companion.

But there was a coldness to him—a coldness that kept everyone at arm’s length. He was a figurehead of law, bound by his responsibilities, and you had watched, time and again, as he chose duty over all else, even over his own happiness. Yet, somewhere in your foolish heart, you had hoped that maybe… maybe he’d let you in.

Maybe, one day, he’d see the depths of your devotion, the way you’d sacrifice anything to make him smile, even for a second.

And so, one evening, you found yourself standing in his office, alone except for the quiet patter of rain against the windows. Neuvillette was focused on his work, papers spread across his desk, his gaze fixed on something beyond the confines of the room. His expression was unreadable, yet you could see a faint crease in his brow, the slightest hint of tension in his posture.

You took a breath, heart pounding as you gathered the courage to speak. "Neuvillette," you began, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. "There’s something I need to tell you."

He looked up, his eyes sharp yet distant, as if he were peering through a veil. "Yes?" he asked, his tone neutral, giving nothing away.

"I…" You faltered, feeling the weight of your feelings pressing down on you, a tidal wave of emotion you could no longer hold back. "I care for you. More than just a friend or an ally. I… I’ve loved you for a long time." You whispered as if it was a sin.

The silence that followed was deafening, stretching between you like an unbridgeable chasm. You watched as his expression hardened, his gaze turning cold, like the edge of a blade. He straightened, distancing himself from you in that single, subtle movement, and you felt your heart shatter.

"Y/N," he said, his voice devoid of warmth, "you shouldn’t allow yourself to be burdened by such emotions. I am not capable of returning them."

The words cut through you like ice, each syllable a blow to the fragile hope you’d clung to for so long. "Why?" you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice. "Why can’t you let yourself feel? Why must you push everyone away?"

He looked at you, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or sorrow. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the steely resolve you’d come to know so well. "I am the Iudex of Fontaine," he said, his tone as unyielding as the storm outside. "I cannot afford distractions, nor the vulnerabilities that come with attachment. You should understand that better than anyone."

"But I do understand," you replied, your voice breaking. "I understand that you’re lonely, Neuvillette. I see it every day. And I know you don’t have to be. You don’t have to carry this weight alone."

He turned away, his back to you as if to shield himself from your words. "Enough, Y/N. This conversation is over."

You felt the tears prick at your eyes, the pain in your chest spreading like a wound that refused to heal. But you couldn’t let it end like this. Not after everything you’d been through, everything you’d given up just to be by his side. "Please," you whispered, taking a step closer. "Don’t shut me out."

He was silent, the only sound in the room the relentless drumming of the rain against the windows. And then, in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it, he said, "I never asked you to stay."

The words were like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless, wounded in a way you hadn’t thought possible. You had always known Neuvillette was a reserved man, a man of duty above all else, but you had never imagined he could be so cruel. The hope you’d nurtured for so long, the love you’d held onto despite everything, crumbled into dust in that single moment.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, the tears streaming down your face as you left his office. The rain was still falling, but it felt colder now, harsher, as if the city itself were grieving with you. You stumbled through the streets, your heart shattered, each step a painful reminder of the life you’d dreamed of but would never have.

Days passed, each one bleaker than the last. You went through the motions, carrying out your duties with a hollow sense of detachment. You couldn’t bring yourself to see Neuvillette again, couldn’t bear the thought of facing him after he’d so thoroughly rejected you. The once-familiar streets of Fontaine felt foreign now, each corner a reminder of a love that had been torn from you, leaving only the ache of longing and regret.

You heard whispers, rumors that the rain had only grown heavier since that night, that the people of Fontaine had begun to wonder what sorrow coud have befallen the hydro dragon to cause such an unending storm.

And then, one day, you couldn’t take it anymore. You packed your things, your heart heavy as you made the decision to leave Fontaine. You couldn’t stay, not when you would have to face him everyday at work and be forced to remember his rejection. You would go somewhere else, somewhere far away, where you could mend the pieces of your broken heart and try to forget the man who had shattered it.

As you stood at the edge of the city, looking back one last time, you felt a pang of longing, a desire to see him one final time before you left. But you knew it would only hurt more. So you turned away, your steps carrying you into the unknown, the rain still falling as if to mourn your departure.

♡

In Fontaine, Neuvillette stood by the window of his office, watching as the rain fell in endless sheets, each drop a reflection of the emptiness he felt within. He had told himself that this was the right choice, that he had done what was necessary to protect you, to keep his duty intact. But as the days dragged on, he found himself haunted by the memory of your broken expression, the way your voice had trembled as you’d told him you loved him.

He had thought he was strong enough to endure this solitude, that he could bear the burden of his responsibilities alone. But now, as he stood alone in the empty silence of his office, he felt the weight of his own choices pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. He had pushed you away, told himself it was for the best… but it hadn’t brought him peace. Instead, it had left him with an aching void, a hollowness that even the rain couldn’t wash away.

He closed his eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of the storm, the sound that had once been a source of comfort now serving as a reminder of everything he had lost. He wondered where you were now, if you were safe, if you were happy. And as he stood there, alone with his regrets, he felt a single tear slip down his cheek, lost in the endless torrent of rain.

For the first time, Neuvillette understood the true price of his choices, the cost of his devotion to duty. He had sacrificed everything—his own happiness, his chance at love—all for a sense of duty that now felt empty and hollow. And as the rain continued to fall, he knew that he would carry the weight of this regret for as long as he lived.

Fontaine would remember him as the unfeeling, distant Iudex, a man of duty and strength. But only he would know the truth—that he was a man broken by his own choices, a man who had given up everything, only to be left with the cold, unyielding ache of regret.

And so, the rain continued to fall, each drop a testament to a love that could have been, and a sorrow that would never fade.

All Rights Reserved © 2024 DarlingsBlackBook

On a scale of 1-10 how much did this hurt? Do I need to up my angst game?

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

12 - The Cost of Our Sins

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 10.2k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, traumatic and disturbing imagery, gore, physical abuse, confinement and restraints, reference/allusions to rape, trauma response, torture, suicidal ideation, past character death

Notes: I am so sorry for..well...pretty much everything, cus the horror show does not end at the last chapter strap in because part 3 starts now. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Numb is all you felt, a radiating sensation of death that sat through your body still on it’s side. Your eyes could not open, as you felt the pooling of blood in your stomach. The warmth soaked feeling where a son once lay inside you. You had looked into Robb’s eyes as yours faded with him. You had gone together, and now you lay there with the seconds of an awoken mind. Eyes fluttering open was not that of the scene you died, but something worse.

It was fire. Blood and fire all around as you barley could open your eyes long enough to see what your sins had cost you. Was it the Seven, the Old Gods, or the fire god your father had found in that sought to punish you? You lay looking through bars that caged you at the hell before you, it was your punishment for all crimes you had found in. 

The world before this ended you and Robb Stark together and somewhere in this hell your gods decided that you could not reunite until you were given fair just sentence for your sins. Push through this, you thought, let the gods do with you as they wish and they will allow you to return in the veil to him, to him and your son. 

Chanting that in your ears sounded like they were moving underwater, you felt too heavy to lift your head to look. Your body burned and bled still and your muscles could not move but that of your eyes to the blur around you. The chanting grew louder and louder as a group rounded a corner of wherever you were brought too, and it was your husband that they called too. A chanting of King in the North, over and over as you watched his own punishment. The gods were far more cruel then you ever imagined as you watched what they forced you to atone in.

It was Robb, but propped up against something, the black outfit was the very one you recalled your living self, lovingly dressing him in. And the shine in his bright blue eyes as they looked over you with as much love as you had in your heart. But it was soaked in blood as you lay, and not the face of your husband. 

Instead, the sight of The Young Wolf was that as you were The Silent Stag. His head bloodied, but like it had formed into that of a giant direwolf, like he turned into his very companion in Grey Wind as it looked propped on his body. The gods, forcing him to live what he was called and you as your own as you lay in a choking cry unable to find the strength to speak or cry to him through the blood in your mouth. 

His sight was mocked by the demonic creatures you could barley see around him, before the water in your eyes blurred him, before the fading came once more. You accepted the horror that he did not deserve. This was for your sins. 

Let the gods do this, and once more you would wake. In the realms beyond the living, Robb at your side with an arm around you, as you held your son, little Ned. You promised to always be together. 

The gods would punish you, and allow you to be together once more. You and Robb just had to endure this horror, and you would finally be together again. 

That was all you had to do to get back to him. 

Skies were dim as you ventured further into the lands, leaving a drab feeling blanketing over the land that fit the state of mind you lived in. According to the rumblings in the men, you had been in and out of conciseness for almost a fortnight, leaving you to assume that the last of the summer sun had died out and only the dim of autumn remained. Not that you missed the sun, the last time it shined in any way that you could appreciate was so far off you bared not thinking about it. 

Watching the men around you act like normal had made you angry in those first few days you woke up, but now it was all meaningless to try and keep that energy up, you had none left in you really. The small cage off in the distance was your home for a bit, mostly a place you were tossed to wait and see if you would ever wake up, but then once you had? They kept you shoved in there just to keep you from lashing out. 

The first day one of the men had approached you to give you water, only to slide his hand into the bars as your hands were tightly bound. He still wore an ugly dressing over the mark where you bit him, your mouth still stained somewhat with blood from how hard you dug your teeth in. After that, multiple men had to drag you out and hold you down so they could gag you which had stayed on you for the most part, including now. 

But you were too exhausted to fight, your face and skin were constantly flush and hot with sweat as your head grew more fuzzy and dizzy each day. Once it was determined you were indeed alive and not going to bleed out, apparently some kind of infection set in just to make you more pathetic. Currently as camp was made for the night you were granted some freedom. 

The men assigned to watch you noting that you were mostly docile, leaning your head against the iron bars with a distant and dispondant look, to weak to even roll your eyes at their comments. You had been allowed to be let out, and brought to a tree where you now sat tied up against. What a sight you must have been, flush and sweaty, covered in grime to the point it matted in your hair, and still wearing the very dress you had been that night, still soaked in dried blood. 

It was a living nightmare, your dreams flashing in a repeating horror with the strings of music that would forever haunt you, only to awake to the men all finding it in their cold hearts, to sing it outloud. You wondered if they even knew other songs, or if it was just all a sick game to torment you as they dragged you with them. If one more of them sung that Lannister song, you were going to find a way to free your hands just to cut off your own ears. 

Perhaps it was the fever in your head, but you had no sense of what to feel anymore. It was so twisted all wrong, and you had not the heart to find it’s truth in front of all these people. Not them, not after what they’ve done. 

Your eyes flickered up in a painful glare as footsteps approached, and the figure kneeling in front of you raised an eyebrow at your state. “Now, my lady, if I take this off are you going to behave, or will you need a refresher?” His hand pointing to your eye. Right, that must be just adding to your state, likely bruised by this point when he had hit you hard across the face after you kicked away the food he brought you. 

You wanted nothing from Roose Bolton, but he insisted on finding ways to keep you alive. A true mockery that felt now. Your stomach burned where the slices refused to heal or fade. You looked off to the side dejectedly, and he took that was an answer. 

Pulling the fabric down from between your teeth you bit your tongue and continued to not look in his direction. “It’s been almost a fortnight since you’ve eaten, and days since you’ve had any water. If I��m going to keep you alive, we’re going to have to fix that problem.” 

“Then don’t keep me alive. Wouldn’t be the first time.” You barley recognized your voice, it was hoarse and so rough that your throat screamed at you to douse it in water and smooth it down with honey to ease the pain. Tearing your eyes back up to him as your head lulled to rest back against the bark you raised your eyebrows at him in challenge. 

His ability to keep calm in any situation no longer was a point of impressive resolve, but an angering fester in your stomach at his lack of humanity. “It was not a matter of personal affairs, just politics, my lady.” 

Your breath cracked out a single laugh that almost made you cough. “Where is the utility in keeping me alive, when you sure tried your best to do the opposite?” You couldn’t ignore the burning inside of you, it was as if you’d pull your dress up and see a blackness toxifying around what was left. 

“This is neither the time nor place to discuss such matters. Not in your fragile state.” Huffing another cracked laughter you asked him what he even wanted. “Right now I want to ensure I can get myself, my men, and even you into the Dreadfort in one piece. When we arrive I will have our maester treat you, then we can speak more.” 

You felt dizzy even just sitting up against a tree like this, the air was obviously getting colder judging by the state of dress going around but you neither were covered in anyway to help, nor did you really feel it. It was as if you were in the dark swampiness of the Crannogmen lands but instead of a misty air it was humid and sweltering like a Dornish sun. All you could muster was a huff. 

Leaning forward with a skin of something, he opened the cap and took a sip before holding it up with an expectant look. “It will be far easier to get us past the Ironborn if I have you on a horse instead of dragging you around in a cage. But I need to know you will cooperate if I do. I’ll even keep let you stay ungagged.”  

Leaning forward with the skin once more before he was uncomfortably close to your face, “I wouldn’t test me further, my lady. The only thing keeping these men from raping you every night is my order, and I’m quite sure in this state you wouldn’t survive as many as have talked about it. So either it’s me, or I leave you now to the mercy of my men.”

There was no place in arguing, you had nothing to fight back with. Jaw clenched as you fought back the angry pounding in your heart, you nodded. Roose seemingly satisfied enough that he gently placed the skin to your mouth. The water down your throat felt so soothing that it made your insides wish to cry, but you had no energy for it. So you let him give you the water, and come morning maybe you would feel less like a floating bundle of delusions. 

He left you alone after that, but just as he said none came over to you. You think there were groups that had their eyes on you, but it was difficult to see. In the dark, the blurriness of your vision only let you see what was in front of your face and everything else was blurs of shapes and fire. 

Late into the night, you fell asleep once more. The only thing which came to you, was the sight of Roose plunging the knife he struck you with into the chest of Robb and the strings of music that had played only seconds before it all. That’s all you saw anymore, and you couldn’t remember if you ever dreamed in any way before that night, all you saw and heard was those two things again and again. 

One man, dark eyes with a creeping look that would once have made you on edge was the one who fetched you come morning. He spoke some, expected nothing in return. Pointing a knife at your unresponsive face as he threw out, “You run or hit me, and I’ll knock that pretty face around enough to leave a mark that’ll stay ugly. Got it?” Merely untying you did nothing, since your hands were still bound tight enough to keep you from struggling them from behind. 

Yanking you up to your feet he walked you though the camp to where the horses were stood ready to go. Another man next to what seemed to be his, smirked as he nodded to you like a silent object. “Know it’s been a rough few years when even this one looks good ‘nuff to make a man jealous.” 

Knocking him in the arm, he moved with him to hoist you up onto the horse, your vision spinning drastically at the movement with no way to steady yourself. The first dark eyed man, Locke, climbed up behind you, taking your bound hands into his grip and yanking you back to hiss in your ear. “Be smart now, lass. There’s nothing round us but Ironborn and best bet no one’s gonna protect your honour once you’re alone with them. You gonna be a smart girl?” Nodding with a clenched jaw, he hummed satisfied. 

Shoving you off of him before the rest of the men all begun to take off. They’d have to take the day to sneak past the bordered scouts and by then, if they pushed hard they could make it to the Dreadfort by next daybreak. You couldn’t possibly wonder what awaited you there, but at the minimum, threat of death was far from any worry in your mind. 

Waking up for good had felt like a new kind of death, a confusion that tore you up and threatened to swallow you whole. Making no sense at first, you had died you knew it. Or, you thought you did. Not a thing had felt like the way you were fading and yet you were here now. You dared not think of the memory of fire and chanting you were so sure as a deathly torment of the gods. If you thought of that, you might bringing up the only thing in your stomach, of water and bile and you refused to look at yourself in anyway. The red staining your dress was there until the mercy of new clothes might be granted if ever. 

You had no right to be here, you had promised him. You and Robb promised the other that it would be until your last day, together. Not one without the other, you found your fate dying beside him but yet you were alive and the memories of him would paint before your mind like cries in the night. 

Something was quite wrong inside you, but you felt like there wasn’t enough awareness in you to see what it was or what was missing. All you knew is that you were trapped in this memory of that night, and you couldn’t see a single thing in the world around you except that and here. 

If there was a world and people that existed besides this nightmare, you could not find them. 

“So you admit you murdered Qhorin Halfhand?” 

Standing in the main hall before three men, having found nothing right when Jon awoke. Lord Commander Mormont as Sam said, dead. Murdered in a mutiny, and leaving him to hope that he learned enough from the Old Bear to get through to the rest. 

Jon saw nothing but conflict in his actions, and as he stood there now it was clear that it didn’t matter what they thought of him, it mattered that he make them understand what no one else seemed to truly get. Neither side got it, it seemed. “I didn’t murder him.” 

Ser Alliser Thorne looked him down with the same contempt he always had, and if he had his way without question he would’ve ended Jon then and there the second he rode through the gates. “No? You put your sword through a brother of the Night’s Watch. What do you call that?” 

“He wanted me to kill him.” 

Lord Janos Slynt sat to the left, leaning partially across the table with the same puffy and slime filled smugness he always held. Full of respect for none but his own reputation, and yet he was here down in the icy ends of the world like the rest of them. “The bastard son of a traitor. What would you expect?” 

The man was lucky Jon wasn’t as young and brash as he was in his first months here. He tried putting a knife through Ser Alliser in a rage for a similar comment once upon a time. Instead, he kept his composure and attention on the later man and Maester Aemon listening intently to his right. “The Halfhand believed our only chance to stop Mance was to get a man inside his army.” 

Ser Alliser interrupting with a gritted roughness that Jon could sympathize with. “Don’t talk about the Halfhand as if you knew him. He was my brother.”

They were all brothers now, even you, Jon thought. Ser Alliser certainly wasn’t a fan of Jon, nor he in return but he knew losing a brother wasn’t easy and it certainly didn’t make Jon feel like he was doing the right thing when he killed him. He agreed with the man himself to do it, and he agreed with why, but he still put his sword through the Halfhand. His first true kill and that would forever be a bloodstain on his hands. “Then you’d know he’d do anything to defend the Wall. The free folk would have boiled him alive, but letting me kill him-”

Slynt had the gall to laugh, like there was anything in Jon’s entire existence anymore that even could give the slightest bit of amusement. “The free folk? Listen to him, he even talks like a wildling now.” 

The rage for a minute spilled out of his mouth as Jon raised his voice to him, “Aye, I talk like a wildling. I ate with the wildlings, I climbed the wall with the wildlings, I-” There was that wave again. One that made him feel uncomfortable and bordering on a guilty kind of dirty that he couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard. It was there and they would all only see one thing, but it didn’t feel anything the way they were going to. 

Then Jon thought of you, and it just made it all the worse. But he had to be honest in some regards, he wasn’t going to get through to these men by lying. He had to just say it the only way any would care or believe him with. “I laid with a wildling girl.” 

“You admit to breaking your vows, then?” 

If that’s what they were going to focus on, what would it even take to convince them to take him seriously on anything else. He did break his vows, but not willingly, and not with the only person who deserved to have them broken for. 

Janos Slynt continued his petty tirade that Jon was growing increasingly annoyed with. “The law is law, the boy must die.” And what law did you break to get here, my lord? What had you done to find yourself from City Watch Commander to the Night’s Watch, what mercy were you shown to not die for your crimes, Jon thought. 

Maester Aemon however, seemed to care not for where they saw fit to debate Jon on. “If we beheaded every ranger who lay with a girl, the Wall would be manned by headless men.” 

Ser Alliser trying to argue, “There’s a difference between sneaking off to the Mole’s Town brothel and sleeping with the enemy.” Somehow Jon knew that telling him the only alternative was death, wouldn’t exactly give him any more leniency, but he like Aemon, had no time for this. 

“Aye, there is a difference. Sneaking out to a brothel doesn’t give you detailed information about their enemy plans and numbers. And while we sit here debating which rules I broke, Mance Rayder marches on the wall with an army of a hundred thousand.” 

They tried to protest that was impossible, but he’d seen it. He had walked through that camp and felt nothing but a building dread for what was to come of any of this. “He’s united the Thenns, the Hornfoots, the Ice-River Clans. He has giants fighting for him.” 

The degree to which Jon was getting fed up with Janos Slynt was immeasurable. The man laughed while looking at the other two who didn’t find anything funny about it. “Giants?” 

Jaw tight, he looked to the waste of air with a barley held back lack of respect on his face. “Have you ever been beyond the Wall, ser?” 

There was that huff of pride in his face once more. “I commanded the City Watch of King’s Landing, boy.” 

“And now you’re here. You must not have been very good at your job.” Jon would have no way of knowing it, but another voice with serious eyes and a dismissive snark echoed in Janos Slynt’s ears. 

The voice of a woman who he had no reasonable way of knowing meant a single thing to dark curly haired man in front of them. The girl had spent many of her days on the council questioning his capabilities, and insulting him all the same as this one. But Jon ignored his outrage as she always would.

“There’s a band of wildlings south of the Wall already led by Tormund Giantsbane. I killed their warg and three others, they shot me full of arrows. Their orders are to attack Castle Black from the south while Mance hits it from the north. Their signal for the attack will be a bonfire, Mance said it would be the greatest fire the North has ever seen. That’s the truth. All the truth.” 

They didn’t execute him, or at least not that day Jon thought to himself. As he slept that night though, he still saw you dying on the floor in your own blood. Sam had tried asking him about the girl, about Ygritte. Especially since he now had Gilly in his life but Jon knew there was no comparing. From what he could tell, Gilly had more of a strange sheltered life then any of them, and she was nothing like the aggressive and hypocritical anger of the wildling girl Jon had travelled with. 

But he didn’t want to talk about Ygritte, he didn’t want to talk about having to send his only protection in Ghost away just to save his cover from that of death. Didn’t want to talk about what he was forced to do and how he tricked himself into thinking it was all fine just to cope with it. 

Only a few times did Sam try to gently bring up the other, but Jon shot it down every single time. He already felt pain and anger about it, about Robb. Jon certainly didn’t want to talk about you. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

Jon had a job to do, and he was haunted enough in his dreams of your death to have Sam try and comfort him about it. Besides, he didn’t even have Ghost now. He hadn’t seen him since sending him off and all he could remember in his waking hours, was the two of you sitting in front of the Weirwood. Ghost still tiny curled up in your lap as you sat in his arms. 

He was losing everything it seemed, but he’d be damned if he lost this place, the only thing that served from the gods to provide Jon with any kind of purpose. In this coming war, or the one foreboding against them in the distant colds of the far North. 

The Dreadfort was a befitting name you supposed. It stood tall in what looked like the middle of nowhere, cleared land all around the high walls, that build up on the inside to the highest fort in the dead centre with edges at the top looking like sharp, imposing teeth. As your eyes drifted along it, a woozy feeling came over you from the last push to get into the lands past the remaining Ironborn. Gates opening, the court was as drab and deary as the rest of it and yet the people all scattered around were normal. 

Roose Bolton climbed from his horse first to greet a figure awaiting in the distance, and introducing his new wife. Walda was a bit younger then you, and certainly held more life in her eyes and face then you did. A brightness as she was brought into the castle where you were pulled off the front of the horse by two men. 

Turning from the other man, Roose looked to them with orders, “Put her in a cell, and have Maester Wolkan look her over.” You hardly had a chance to see or hear anything else as you were dragged into a deeper part of the structure. The cells in your vision were along a single wall and quite small as the only light was a small set of torches lit along wall corners. 

None said a word to you, but you went willingly as they opened the doors. Cutting your hands free behind your back before tossing you in and closing behind you. The echos of their feet fading off until it was the flickering of the flames left alone with you. 

Wincing as you dragged yourself up with palms braced on the ragged ground before finding a resting spot against the wall and side of the cell. Resting your head along the bars you couldn’t figure out what it was you were feeling. Your body held an ache all over where some places burned like a festering would alight. 

Eyes barley focusing on the wall beyond your cell, they wanted to let tears fall freely but you simply had nothing left in you. The shock of waking up had passed by this point, and now all that was left was the murky depths left behind and only one thing at a time could come to the surface for air. You could still hear the strings playing, the hall filling with music that had you, nor anyone, suspect a thing until it was already over. 

You hardly thought any other music existed, it looped in your mind as did the damning stop of it as the instruments blurred to weapons. Perhaps it was your doom to sit reliving such a moment and yet you found nothing in you to say Roose Bolton took you just to let you rot. 

He had tried to kill you, and you had even lay there beside Robb thinking he had succeeded until..the wall torch fire before you flashed to another fire, and that turned to yells and chanting and in a split second you flew a hand to to grasp tightly at one of the bars as your lungs gave out. You told yourself not to think about it, you said you would never look back to that sight-

A door opening had you slam your eyes shut, breathing so harshly out that you felt the dizziness spin around you. Your hand still gripped the bar so tightly though that it strained your hand into a cramp as you willed your panic to swallow. “My lady,” 

Slowly you opened them, trying to stay still as you glanced up and to the side where a man you didn’t recognize stood. Two guards behind him, but you did note the chains across his robes before sighing and turning away. 

The guards entered behind him to stand at attention as he came towards you. “My lady, I am Maester Wolkan, I am here to see how your health is faring.” He knelt down in front of you as you huffed out a painful spit of air as it trying to fake a laugh. “I understand you have been through a lot, if you would allow me?” 

Rolling your head to the side so he could see your still discoloured eye, he tilted your head back and forth to see the other cuts along you. “How long have you had this fever?” You didn’t answer, you didn’t even know. It had been days since you woken up, and it’s felt both like years of pain have passed through you and only seconds since losing everything of your life. 

Wolkan lightly soaked a cloth in a small basin of water before dabbing it across your forehead, the coolness of it making you hiss towards the feeling against your burning skin. Taking it upon himself, he washed away some of the blood and grime on your face as the water left a cool sheen on it.

“Can you stand on your own?” Your eyes narrowed in confusion before remembering he was there to look at your wounds, when truthfully you didn’t see the point. Nodding, you hissed in lifting yourself up, letting him look over your arm, pulling apart the torn fabric near your shoulder to look at the deep unhealed scar inside of it. “Any pain or difficulties moving this arm at all?” 

You shook your head no, passing your notice, that it made him pause, looking at you almost puzzled for just a moment. He must have been told some of the wounds, as gently asked you, “I will have to undo the laces against your back to check the one there.” You didn’t react, just looked to the nothing on the dark walls as he looked where you pushed away the memory of an arrow. Not the one which hit you, no, the ones that-

“This might seem a droll indecent, but I was informed you had received a significant injury on your stomach and I will need to take a look at it.” You were stuck at the arrows, not thinking of anything else after reliving the seconds as they hit him, and your eyes finding a watering that luckily was hard to see in this light. 

The man had to gently pull up the skirt of your dress, trying carefully not to peel it on the sensitive skin as he revealed what you had no bravery to look at. But by not looking at it, you also missed the shocked, almost dreadfully fearful astonishment in Wolkan’s face. “My lady how did-” 

“Ask your lord, he will know better.” 

The finality in your tone ended that line of thought in his head, but his eyes were so focused on the wounds that you begun to shake from the lack of energy. Dropping it back down he gently grabbed your upper arms, “Here, you can sit once more.” 

It took some time for him to come to an assessment, packing up some of his things. “I fear you have an infection, my lady. The lack of food and water likely making it overstay it’s place for much longer, I will have simple water and broth sent down to you for the next while. As well as a potion that will help speed the process.” Glancing down to your stomach and then your dulled eyes he paused, “It is the-”

“I don’t want to to hear it, just send me what I need to take and I’ll take it. Now if we are finished Maester, I’d like to be left alone to rot in the quiet.” Watching you for a few significant moments, he respected your wish and made his way to leave. 

Normally he would inform you the degree which it would make you ill before getting better, but he had the feeling you had very little care on such a side effect. Such a state you were in, how bloodied and unwell you were as Lord Bolton dragged you across much of the North, and then was the wounds on her stomach..as far as Wolkan in all his knowledge could tell anyone, there shouldn’t have been a soul who could have survived that. 

It hadn’t healed, but it was as if it was to stay open and deep without having any impact on the skin around it. It was a gruesome, violent, jagged series of scars all connected together, and yet it was as if they existed separate of your body.

In the main hall, the Greyjoy in Ramsay Snow’s care looked as unwell and ragged as the lady in the cells, but subservient to the point it made many uncomfortable. “If Bran and Rickon are alive, the country will rally to their side now that Robb Stark is gone.” 

Theon pausing in his actions shaving the younger man, a horror in his eyes that was desperate to be pushed back down before it swallowed him whole. Ramsay with no genuinity in his sorrowful tone. “Oh that’s right, Reek. Robb Stark is dead.” 

Roose Bolton notably said nothing to stop his sons torment of Theon. Turning to Locke instead he gave the man an offer, “Find those boys and I’ll give you a thousand acres and a holdfast.”  

Locke asking on any ideas where to start, and the beginnings of a true mistake unknowingly spilling from Roose’s mouth in instruction. “Jon Snow is at Castle Black. Their bastard brother, he could be sheltering them, he may know where they are. Even if he doesn’t he’s half Stark himself which means he could prove to be a threat. Especially if he learns of our most recent prisoner,” Pausing as he looked to Ramsey with something that Theon couldn’t yet grasp, how could he? He didn’t know any of who else they were keeping here besides himself.

Looking back to Locke, Roose was specific with your name on his lips that way too quickly made Theon swallow harshly, “Make sure no mention of her presence here gets out. Jon Snow was close with the girl, and she is his brothers widow. If he isn’t hiding the boys, he may still learn that she’s being kept here. And I don’t care to have him bringing a fight to our doorstep to get her back.” 

His instructions included killing you, that much was made clear from Tywin Lannister but apparently you were a frustrating little fighter. It was a surprise to find later in the night, you were still alive. He had come up as the blood was all still fresh, knocked you with his foot onto your back and you were as dead as every other corpse in the hall. You and Robb both pale, blood had spilled out and stopped, and not a pulse to be felt as both your eyes sat wide, colourless, and defeated. There was no question about it.

Until later when he had returned. Ensuring the giant direwolf had been taken care of, walking back in before the Freys and his men could do whatever with the bodies they wished. But as he approached the King and Queen, and with no one in the hall to have done so, suddenly, your eyes had been closed. And you had the faintest of pulses he’d ever felt, but it was there. He was sure he watched you die himself, but now you sat in his dungeon as a plan begun to formulate in his mind. 

Time was difficult for you to gauge, but far longer had begun to pass then you realized, weeks and months that felt like seconds or years. In that time, Roose building the steps to a proper claim, and promised his bastard son, that if he could prove himself and retake Moat Cailin, then he would reconsider his position. Afterall, if you were alive anyways, you were of no use to Roose in the hands of his bastard, but in the hands of a legitimate heir? Perhaps the gods left you alive for a reason. 

Roose just had to make sure that the half Stark at Castle Black heard no word of you being alive. Too many people underestimated Robb Stark for too long, and the same mistake would not be made twice, not for his brother. Ramsay has his own way of things, but Roose Bolton did not want to be the one to underestimate Jon Snow.  

Gods, how much time had even passed? You felt in a daze that never ended, even worse then before. A servant for the Maester brought down a vile smelling potion which tasted even worse. Since you had kept nothing down. The broth and water seems to be your only diet to make having it come right back up less disgusting. 

You were dripping in sweat, your head running so hot you wondered if the fire of the torch would even burn you. Sometime in the hours, or days that had passed you would see things your mind told you to not believe. Some of it you knew, most of it felt like a life that was beyond understanding. 

Laying in bed, there was rain pouring out the high windows that blended with the river in the distance, the light of the moon dripping you in shades of blue matching his bright eyes as you lay bare on your side into the equally as bare chest of another. His hand drifting across your stomach so gently in touch as you nuzzled into their neck. The feeling of his curls dancing around your cheek before the strings begun.  

The begun and as they played you opened your eyes in the same position as his hand raised now soaked in blood. Looking to you his blue eyes were in a terrified horror before you could see them go out all the same. Only as you lay there on your side, feeling the blood rushing from your stomach like it was to never end, did the room twist and turn to a red.

Red tones and fire all around as a voice in a foreign accent spoke in your ear. Their red hair hanging low as she spoke and if you had the strength to turn you could see the tight red ruby choked around her neck as she spoke. “Your Great Wolf to stand with you and your children together.”

You wanted to turn and lash out, scream that he was dead and so was the child in your womb but all that happened was blood rushing now from your mouth too. Too much blood that you begun to choke on it as you turned to her the red ruby trailing up until a pair of eyes met yours. Eyes of blue that sat on the head of a wolf it did not belong with, only as the faint chanting begun did your eyes snap open.

Turning to the corner behind you did you violently cough up nothing but water and bitter bile that scraped at your throat. One hand pressed against the wall and the other braced on the floor as you brought up what was hardly even there. Your throat burned as your stomach did, the servant who was bringing it down for you to drink would tell you it is to cleanse your system of the rot and it only felt like it spread violently. 

No sense of night or day, you hardly even had enough resolve to pay attention to the schedule of the guards. The servant of the Maester seemed kind, but he was a young boy who didn’t know any better you suspected. No one else spoke to you, or much looked at you. 

As you heaved to catch your breathe in between the pressure on your chest as you spit up more bile, you wondered if it mattered anymore. If none of them knew who you were, it would not matter what happened to you you maybe life would be easier if you just died on them. 

It would be easier for you as well. But there was nothing for such a thing in the cell. Just dirt, and your own fluids that mixed horribly. If any were to find you now, they’d easily mistaken you for a filthy craven, and you felt like one. 

You barley heard the footstep over the heaves of your breathe until they were speaking to you right outside the bars. “Oh my word,” Gasping you flung yourself back, almost pressing up against the wall with fright. You barley could recognize the fellow kneeling down looking at you, but you think perhaps he was in the courtyard when greeting Roose. 

Hair dark to an almost black and laid flat across his forehead with eeiry pale blue eyes that were wide as they looked at you. You said nothing, untrusting of any face that looked at you in such a place. Looking you over, he sighed to himself. “I heard we had a guest, but such a shame to find you in a state such as this, my lady.” 

Straightening your back, you dragged your knees up to your chest, as you narrowed your eyes. He simply shrugged to himself before holding a hand out through the bars, seeing you not move an inch as he grimaced and pulled back even slower. “Not a woman for formalities, I can understand that. Especially in a state such as this,” whistling out he looked you over in a way you could only describe as making you feel even dirtier then you were. “Why they didn’t even bother offering you new clothes, you’re stuck in the same bloody ones as you arrived. That will not do, a lady should at least have a pretty dress to go with such a pretty face.” 

“What do you want?”

He reacted none to the bluntness, your voice scratched badly like claw marks scraped down your throat. “Well I would be remiss if I didn’t pay the late Queen in the North a visit.” You bit your tongue to the point it threatened to bleed, it was a mockery. Is that what you were supposed to see yourself as anymore, here thrown away in the dungeons to waste in the home of the very man who murdered your king? “Oh, I’m so sorry. Sensitive subject, I know.”

His voice was so exaggerated in his inauthenticity, you bought not a word and you thought you likely weren’t supposed to. “If you’ve come down here to mock me, fair not. Bolton’s men have seen fit to do that the entire journey, I am not with a lack of torment.” 

It felt so unnerving, his eyes. The way they lingered on you in ways you couldn’t immediately detect the intention of and a glint behind them that terrified you beyond what anything you’d see. But you were lucky, you were too faded inside to show it as he spoke once more. “You wound me, my lady. We’re in the North you see, we supported our King in the North and his Queen. But, I suppose if he’s good and dead that doesn’t really make you one anymore does it?” 

You didn’t care if you were a queen, you cared that you were Robb’s wife and now you broke your promise to stay together. You swore a vow in love and now you sat with his blood in your mouth and son dead from your womb. “Then again, you are still a Baratheon, does that make you a princess now? No, that doesn’t seem quite right either does it. A girl like you doesn’t scream princess.” 

Finding the strength to turn away from him, you looked at the nothing of the dark wall. Your name quiet on your lips. “That’s all I am I suppose.” 

“I seem to have you at a disadvantage, I know your name my lady but you don’t know mine do you? You’ve likely heard of me, most call me Ramsay, others call me Roose Bolton’s bastard son.” Your back chilled as you shivered, despite the sweat and the heat in your mind. So his family is all in on it, that was just what you needed to hear. 

Turning your head to face him as it leaned against the wall, you raised an eyebrow dully. “Did you want something, or can I die in peace?” 

He tsked as he stood up. “Now my lady, you can’t die. We haven’t spent nearly enough time together for me to be sick of you. I came to tell you, once you’re better, I can find you a nice room, a hot bath and we’ll see about any nice, pretty dresses we can get for you.” 

Clearly, he did not care if you bought into him. It didn’t matter if you left this cell or not, you couldn’t see past the blood and the fog in your head marred by the strings of music. He only took a few steps away before spinning back to you in a dramatic fashion. 

“How silly of me, I did come here with a present actually. You see, I have a little task I have to leave for, and I just couldn’t bear the thought if something happened to him and you didn’t get a chance to meet each other. My own servant, a very special boy I’ve whipped him up to be.” You narrowed your eyes as you felt your limbs weigh too much, you’d have passed out from exhaustion were he still not insisting on talking. 

“If he does a good job while we’re away, I may just start lending him to you once we get you back on your feet. I’m sure he will be the perfect company. Reek, come say hello.” If you had anything left to bring back up to the surface of the world, you would have. 

Instead you lost all breathe, head spinning as you found the appearance of this so called present. Much like you, marred in grime and dirt and sickly appearance to their skin that matched with the matted hair grown out. As if their entire existence was in a detrimental fear, you felt a weight in your throat that kept you from any words. 

Dark eyes that refused to look at a thing slowly drifted upwards until they met the agony of yours and your heart pounded until it flattened to nothing and left you woozy. There was a recognition in his eyes that you were to delusional and feverish to understand. 

Something that in Ramsay’s delight of torment, did not see. A pain of who he was looking at and what state they both had ended up in, alone in the world trapped within the confines of the family of flayers and torturers. “Now Reek, it’s not polite to stare. I’m sure the lady isn’t quite ready so soon after her husbands tragic death, besides not like you have the ability to do anything about it.” 

He shook and you narrowed your eyes in confusion with a tilt of your head, you felt the need to vomit once more as the potion swam through your stomach like it had for days now. Leaving you once more, Ramsay had to pull him away when he took half a second too long to part from your eyes. The dungeons fell quiet and dark once more and your mind only had enough time to feel even more confused until your stomach forced more burning up. 

“And Theon? I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye and ask him why. Then I’ll take his head myself.” 

Collapsing to the ground with a cry of pain, you curled up with your knees back against your chest. The hurt and betrayal on his face that day, the way only you seemed to give him any peace as you both stood unified in what he commanded. But this was no longer such a day, such a time. 

The blue eyes you wanted to see were darker then those pale ones, and with an adoration you wanted to scream at. Robb didn’t want this for you, Theon. Neither of us did, you thought. You demanded justice at Robb’s side, but this was not justice. 

If what you were holding back cries of pain for was not justice, you couldn’t imagine what found it’s way into his terror to make Theon Greyjoy look as frail and petrified as you felt. 

He was fighting to call himself one or the other. Reek was screeching in his head that he would be punished for this, but Theon kept climbing the stairs anyways. It was quite late, and he was already under orders to bring you a meal but he was not given orders to speak to you. So why was he walking down and fighting to not do so?

Walk in, open the gate, sit the food down and return like Reek was ordered to do, but as he stood outside the cell door, it was like for a moment Theon screamed at him and sent Reek down past his consciousness. Voice stammering and weak did he mutter your name, he did it twice and maybe if he had to do it a third he would chicken out and leave. But you looked. 

Sat against the wall with your knees to your chest, arms wrapped around them and your head tucked in the middle, you rose up and it was clear as day the tears. Theon wasn’t sure he’s ever seen you cry. Very few would have and you were good at keeping it to yourself, but then again, Theon was good at many things Reek was not. 

Placing a small vial on the ground before moving to sit the tray beside you. He couldn’t even stammer out the words before you huffed out another tearful cry and kicked the tray from you. Sending him back in a jump. The way you looked up at him, who even were you on the inside? Did you not see yourself anymore as Theon saw Reek in his reflection? Had you even seen the state of yourself, eyes dulled to a weakness you’d never shown, eye still discoloured from where someone must have hit you and a flush to your skin that he knew came from having nothing in your system. 

What happened? How did it happen? How did Robb- 

He breathed out heavily as he snapped his head to attention. It poured out before he could stop himself from saying it. “I was wrong. I- I took Winterfell and I was wrong…” You said nothing. Your lips parted but closed once more with a heavy swallow. “I…” 

“Theon,” your voice was so quiet. Somewhere in his mind, he recalled the people called you the Silent Stag, always quiet you were but just as notable. But this quiet wasn’t that, this was a whisper that worried it was too loud even in the stone of a dungeon. “I..we didn’t- it’s my fault.” You inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut for the action before opening them with a calmer look that refused to look at him. 

“I didn’t know they’d do this..any of this..and we sent them. I’m sorry.” 

Both inside him struggled how to feel, Reek had nothing to accept an apology for and yet Theon knelt forward to the ground. Crouching he slowly opened the vial with a shaky breathe before holding it to you. He wanted to speak and you could see it but neither pushed until he whispered it out like a deathly vow being broken as you drunk the liquid. “I didn’t kill them. Bran and Rickon. I didn’t kill them, I lied.” 

Your lips fell open as neither of you looked anywhere but between your bodies on the floor. “Roose Bolton killed Robb. Shoved a knife in his heart, and a few times in me.” Likely you didn’t know why you showed him, or even told him, but Theon’s breathing quickened as you lifted the fabric. The skin underneath was utterly blood soaked in ways he’d only ever seen on those of the dead. But why were they on you if you were here? “If that isn’t vengeance..”

Theon wanted to stay and talk, but Reek heard the sounds of footsteps far in the distance and tore himself back. “I-” He didn’t look you in the eye, he couldn’t at this point. “I’ll come back.” 

Your voice was far away, your eyes had lulled shut back into a dream of stringed nightmares as you muttered, “Of course you will. He’ll order you too.” 

Your nails were bloody, but you think it was starting to carve properly. The nothing drawing in the wall that kept you occupied for most of the day now. It was silent for a while once you were better, guards came to bring you a meal and then it was back into the quiet. There was no outside world here, no wars once fought, no lives trying to find peace, nothing. Just the walls of your cell, and the carving you were scraping into the stone wall. 

No sense of time came to you, it could have been years and you would be none the wiser of anything. Another war could have come and passed, not an inkling would’ve found you. You only saw the guards and the dungeon. You only dreamt of the blood and the strings as you awoke everytime knowing you failed him. 

Every attempt to come out into your soul was hollow, something was missing and it was part of what made you human. You could only see the curls against blue eyes that looked to you desperate not to see you go. It broke your heart everytime you saw him. 

The horror in your heart was settled somewhat in those final seconds, you would go together as you promised. From this day until our last day. And yet his last day was not yours, and you lived on without him. Guilt and shame ate away at you for breaking your vow to always be together, wherever his soul sat with the gods now you wondered if Robb was ashamed of you. 

You lived on without him, and you lost his unborn son. There was nothing left of Robb Stark with you anymore and the only proof he ever was, was a scar running so jaggedly along your lower stomach that you could feel each time Roose stabbed it back inside you. Tracing it gently enough with your fingers. A terrible stroke of luck, or was it the gods forcing it onto you?

Because the longer you sat in that silence alone, the more you came up with ways to fix it. What reason were you to still be here, why were you still alive if your existence was less then a rats. It wouldn’t be easy in here, but you could do it if you were really desperate. You wanted to the more weeks passed into months as you were alone down here. Shut away from the world, a dead wife to the King in the North, sequestered down in a dingy cell in the Dreadfort. Captive of the family who did this to you, and nothing to do but think of how much Robb would hate what you’ve become. 

This shell was not the woman he fell in love with, and you weren’t entirely sure you could even get that woman back now. Maybe part of you really did die beside him, and what remains in your body now is just the base of grief and anger that will burn through you until you’ve had enough. 

The gods were cruel however. The day he came to see you, it was the understanding of why they bothered to keep you alive. A confident man, Roose Bolton walked up to your cell with the same collected look he has had since the day you met him. Glancing around the cell, he could see you made very little use of the space, as if always having to be positioned against the bars to see the opening of the main door.

“I assume by now you realize no one is coming for you.” Your eyes glared up at him in a silent contemptuous irritation. “The Seven Kingdoms all think you’re dead. Tragically killed at the side of your husband-”

“They know you’re the one who put a knife to him? Or have you let Walder Frey take all of the credit for that?” Roose raised an eyebrow at you, unexpected of the sharp and angry tone that came from an otherwise unwell prisoner. “Suppose it isn’t really you who the southerners care about anyways. You get to claim you killed an unarmed King, and his pregnant wife when you only did it because you had Tywin Lannister to hide behind the skirts of.” 

Stepping forward to you, he looked down with ease as you craned your neck up to find his own, the anger in your voice did not match your eyes. “It is encouraging see you have put your time down here to good use. I kill Robb Stark and yourself, and in return I am given the title Warden of the North until the son of Sansa and Tyrion Lannister comes of age to take over. Unfortunately, there has been a problem in his planning.” 

You twisted your face at the unpleasant imagery.

“Sansa has fled King’s Landing after the murder of King Joffery, and her imp husband is to go on trial.” A year ago you would have been thrilled at the news that your repulsive once cousin was dead, now though it was a non victory that felt hollow. The world indeed kept turning outside the walls and you were none the wiser of a single tinge of it. “Sansa’s son by Tyrion was intended to be the key to the North for the Lannisters as they have no other ties, now there is no child to inherit the North from me.” 

Biting your tongue, you exhaled harshly through your nose to will the angry beating of your heart down to something manageable. “Did you come here to gloat about your new title or did you just want to remind me of what you’ve done.” 

“My men are reclaiming what’s left of the Ironborn that stands in the road to Winterfell, and we will soon move there once my son has cleared the way. You will be coming with us. Willingly.” 

Your voice scratched as you huffed a laugh, “And do tell, my lord. Why would I ever go with you willingly?” You watched as he knelt in front of you, and the frustration in your voice did not match how you pressed yourself against the wall further. 

With every inch of your body you hated the quiet calm in his voice as he nodded to your attire. “Because if you do, I will make sure you are cleaned, properly fed, groom you up and dress you like a lady and not like that creature my son drags around. You won’t be able to leave the castle walls, or go anywhere outside without being under guard. But I won’t throw you back into a cell.” 

Not a thought came to you that imagined yourself like that anymore. Your life was drenched in blood and memories of pain that blurred out the rest in it’s grief. Would you feel more like a person to even just breathe fresh air? Was that worth playing along with the man who betrayed his people and murdered your king and child? 

Roose did not wait for any kind of response, moving towards the cell door when you asked, “Why? If I’m just a prisoner why bring me to Winterfell? No one even knows I’m alive, what would it matter if you keep me locked away in here?”

The blood inside you cooled to a freeze as you looked wide eyed with a hesitant fear that you know he caught onto. “If Ramsay is successful in retaking Moat Cailin, he will be granted a legitimate son and become a Bolton. The Lannisters won’t help me keep the North, but perhaps I don’t need them to. All the Stark men are dead, which means if Ramsay is a Bolton, he will be my firstborn son and heir. And he will be needing one of his own.” 

Roose didn’t elaborate but he didn’t need to. You almost begun to bite your tongue so hard on unknowing it could have bled. You felt sick as you had days ago, but this was an illness rooted in a fear and bloody memories of your last. “You truly think I would ever let him-” 

One eyebrow raised, his voice was patronizing as it was condescending. “Do you think you have any choice in the matter? Shall I reminder you how it is the world works?” 

You glared up with as much energy as you could summon, a sneer on your own face as you sharply bit back, “Do use small words, my lord. I’m not as bright as you.” 

You didn’t expect it to even effect him in the slightest. He rarely budged on anything, especially now when it is was he holds all the power. “You are a highborn lady, and if my son should succeed he will be a legitimate highborn to inherit my own lordship. You are also my prisoner, and I don’t think I need to remind you of my own stance on prisoner treatment. Ramsay doesn’t need your permission to use you to produce an heir.”

Do not show anything else you told yourself, do not let him see the fear in your heart. “I’m not a Northerner, Lord Bolton. I have no claim that could help you.” 

A lightness in his eyes was the most genuine you had seen in since that night and you felt even more ill thinking on it. “No, but you were the Queen that Robb Stark chose, you were the Queen every Northern chose, my lady. That is claim enough for what we require.” 

By the time you found any bravery left in your voice you called out to him before he could leave you alone in the darkness of the dungeon once more. “Did you ever believe in him? Or was it all just a lie the entire time? You served him for almost three years, was none of it ever true?” 

Roose sounded as if he was giving a simple order to a servant, no care for his monstrosity. “I believed in Robb Stark right up until I shoved my dagger covered in your blood into his chest. But loyalty does not buy me money or power, and Tywin Lannister simply had the better offer.” The dagger sat on his waist, blood for you to see and all. You’d felt many illnesses down here, but it was that which made you loose every sense left to you. 

The door closed and once more you were left in darkness. You weren’t sure when the tears had started, but this time you let them fall until your eyes dried out like sands in the Dornish summer. 

You should have died with Robb, and you truly were beginning to think it was necessary to find a way to go back to him, one way or another. He had told you once you in those days before your wedding that you belonged in Winterfell, but what was your belonging in such a place without the wolves to keep you company?

The gods granted you a chilling answer to that question when some time later, they sent Ramsay Bolton down to your cell in the middle of the night, a disturbing glint in his unsettling pale eyes trained only on you. 

[devilfic]

could you do some more stuff on bruce with reader and dick ? the christmas one was ADORABLE AND I JUST CANT HANDLE okay thanks

a/n: you were probably hoping for something fluffy and I APOLOGIZE but I also really wanted to explore the relationship you'd have with dick when you first take him in and show how he grows to trust you ;-;;;;

imagine that it’s right after you and bruce take in dick. he’s angry, he’s grieving, he’s cold. it’s been a rough few weeks since the deaths of his parents. you and bruce had thought about having kids one day but it was never the right time, not until that night when it all happened and bruce looked at you and you just knew.

and then you’d somehow convinced this kid (this kid who looked the spitting image of your husband already, like he was destined to be yours) to let you keep him. not to be his parents because you could never replace john and mary grayson, but to give him a safe place to stay. dick is too young to be this angry but he agrees because he can’t find his parents’ killer when he’s too busy hopping from foster home to foster home with no end in sight.

and you expect that it’ll take time but it doesn’t make his rejection hurt any less. he never stays in the room long enough to talk to either of you, and when he does, he’s always asking about the investigation. it breaks your heart every time to tell him the gcpd are still looking, following leads that you both have a feeling lead nowhere. they don’t know where tony zucco is. you can see the frustration growing in him and the resentment too.

you try to be there because bruce can’t. how can he? he’s so busy looking, chasing those same leads as the bat every night. it makes it harder for dick to trust bruce. he’s a stranger to him. always working, never home. as far as dick was concerned, bruce didn’t give a rat’s ass about finding his parents’ murderer. but every night, from sundown to sun up, your husband was scouring the streets for the man that had ruined dick’s life. but you can’t tell dick that part. bruce isn’t ready.

and one night, it’s storming. it’s not uncommon in gotham but you feel your stomach flip at a crack of thunder. something pulls you out of your sleep, out of your empty bed and down the hall to dick’s room. the door is always shut and locked but now it’s cracked open. a peek inside and he’s nowhere to be found. your stomach drops at another crack of thunder.

you tear the penthouse apart and even alfred can’t tell you when he’d last seen him. it’s then that you notice his coat and shoes are gone, and you’re out the door with barely enough time to get dressed or to heed alfred’s warning.

your instincts are telling you that wherever he is, and god forbid he’s in a ditch somewhere with the kind of types that hang around the city this late, he’s close. even if you can’t see him. you keep searching the skies as if you’ll find him there when the bat signal flips on, and you realize that all this time, your instincts have been leading you right to it.

you reach the top of the building and find dick there, staring off into the sky, and you can’t help but demand to know what he was thinking running off like that. what if he’d gotten hurt or worse? what if you’d lost him for good?

and he’s got this look on his face like he’s freezing and doesn’t want you to notice because then you’ll just cover him in your coat and freeze too. because you would and have. you would do anything to protect him. “you won’t help me.”

“that’s not true, dick. these things take time. trust me, the gcpd is doing everything they can to find that man. we’re not letting zucco get away with what he did to your parents. you have to believe me.”

dick’s scoffing at you. If he wasn’t so small, still chubby-cheeked and rosy, his snark would put him beyond your years, “the police won’t find him. batman will.”

dick doesn’t know how right he is but you try to steer him away, telling him that batman is a vigilante and that there’s no way to prove if you can trust him, but it’s like everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. at some point, you tell him that bruce would be home soon and seeing dick missing would tear him up inside and, without missing a beat, dick tells you “he’d have to be around to care.”

and how do you reconcile with that? how do you make a child feel loved and cared for with nothing to show for it? nothing you can show for it?

you don’t know what you and bruce were thinking. you weren’t ready. you must have wanted to be so bad that you mistook it for something it wasn’t. dick grayson didn’t need new parents. he’d told you as much the minute you’d offered to take him in. of course he’d run away. as far as dick was concerned, all you’d given him was a pretty house to mourn in.

you almost forget why you’re up here.

dick spots him before you do, the dark knight, and from where you’re kneeling you can imagine what he must look like to a child. a boogeyman or an angel, something other than human. dick runs at him as if he’s all that and more. completely enamored. bruce can’t ask with dick there but his eyes flicker to you and you must look pitiful.

it’s just that dick is so. starstruck. you’ve never seen him like this in all the time he’s been with you. it almost feels worth it keeping the secret, then. “you came.” dick sighs.

you’re thinking about all the things bruce’s eyes are saying. he’s focused on this little boy, too afraid to look away, almost too afraid to speak. what if dick could tell? what if he mistook this for some cruel joke? but then bruce puts his hand on dick’s shoulder and would you believe it? for the first time, dick lets bruce touch him, “you called.”

“I need your help, batman.” dick pleads. you shut your eyes, unable to look at bruce or dick knowing what’s coming next. “someone took my parents away from me. I need to find him. and I need your help.”

a few moments pass. you dare crack open an eye, ready to sweep dick out of there and suffer his anger on the way home. anything to avoid seeing the inevitable heartbreak in your husband’s expression. you couldn’t take it. but you falter when you see bruce kneeling before the kid. he’s schooled his expression into something reminiscent of the symbol, the impenetrable, immovable batman, “the graysons, right? the flying graysons. you’re the kid.”

you can hear the shock in dick’s voice, “you know me?”

“I don’t forget a face,” you watch bruce smile, “or someone as talented as you. your parents were good people. I’m sorry for your loss… which is why I’m doing everything I can to find him, dick. I promise I’ll find him.”

“let me help.” bruce laughs—or gasps—at how sudden and stubborn his request is. dick immediately takes offense, “I’m not kidding.”

“no, no. I know you’re not. you just… remind me of someone. I believe you. but not just anybody can do what I do.”

“I can fight! a little. I need some training. but I’m really flexible! and I’m fast.”

“that’s good. people underestimate you when you’re small and lean.”

“how do I get superpowers like you?”

“I don’t have powers.”

“then how do you fly?”

bruce drags his cape between the two of them, eyes sparkling, “physics.”

dick doesn’t even know what that means. he still says “coooooool” like he does. “can I have a cape?”

taking dick’s hand in yours, you try your best not to say bruce’s name when you mean batman (because let’s be honest, the man in front of you is more bruce than anything—all soft eyes, tender voice, careful smiles), insisting that it’s late and way past dick’s bedtime and that you both really need to get home before this storm gets worse when dick begs batman to take you both home in his “super cool” car. and really, how can either of you refuse him?

so you keep him in your lap on the drive home, watching bruce explain what each of the little knobs and buttons do, but dick never runs out of questions. “how fast can you go?” “do you have other cars?” “does it have a name? can I name it?” bruce meets every single one of them with the breathless, youthful kind of joy you get when a child trusts you, really trusts and likes you. even if it’s not really him, it’s enough.

it must be a sight, crawling out of the batman’s car onto the sidewalk. dick clearly doesn’t want to go with his hands on the door begging to see batman again.

“you will,” bruce assures him, looking over at you for just a split second, “I promise.”

it’s days later when bruce gives you the go ahead and you take dick down into the elevator, the one you’d always told him didn’t work anymore. the first thing he sees is bruce at his desk with his cowl in his hands and that shocking black paint across his eyes, waiting with more fear than you’d seen in him fighting his greatest enemies. you don’t think he could take the rejection if this went badly.

bruce steps forward, kneels before dick, tender and vulnerable and open. dick’s shoulders tremble beneath your hands. “I think I found him, but I need your help. so no more secrets.” bruce holds out his hand, shaky and bare, “deal?”

dick is silent for a long time; lips pursed, eyes blown wide. you think he even stops breathing, his chest refusing to rise and fall. you brush a hand through his hair, whispering his name, and catch your husband’s worried eyes. was it too soon? had he scared off dick altogether?

but dick places his hand in bruce’s, so small in comparison. it’s such a shy touch that bruce doesn’t even close his hand around it, too afraid. doesn’t want to scare him. doesn’t want to indulge too much in this kid, so much like himself, finding safety and solace in him. because dick isn’t looking for parents. he wants answers, revenge, justice, whatever he called it to sleep better. and if all you and bruce could do for him is give him that closure, you would. and if dick wanted to leave when it was all said and done, you would let him do that too.

that evening, dick takes dinner with you two and alfred. you take heart in the fact that dick allows you this much. it’s one step, small as it may be, in the right direction.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat

[libraryofloveletters]

Mountains of Snow

Kostas Tsimikas x Fem!Reader

Warnings: so much snow, reader is not vibing with the snow, kostas wants to build a snowman, kostas also uses the powers of persuasion to get you to come out with him, a bit of fibbing and sorta dialogue heavy.

Word Count: 389

Author's Note: kos is the cutest boyfriend ever.

--

Kostas insists that you two should go out into the snow and make a snowman. When you say no, he uses his skills of persuasion to get you to change your mind. 

Snow was the choice for this year's holiday break. The two of you had gone somewhere sunny last year so this year, you decided that you wanted to go skiing instead.

There had been a huge downpour of snow overnight and you were beyond glad to see it. This meant that you were finally going to get a break from skiing, despite that being the whole purpose of the trip, your body was aching.

3 days of skiing was exhausting.

You were lazing on the couch, relaxing and trying to unwind when your boyfriend drops himself on top of you. "Hi beautiful," he smiles, cheek in your thigh as he looks up at you.

"Hi Kostas," you brush your knuckles over his cheek.

He nuzzles into your touch, "let's go outside."

"What for? I don't want to ski today."

"We don't have to ski," he says, sitting up. "We can build a snowman."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "You're not serious, Kos. You're 27 years old, there's no way you want to go out and make a snowman."

"I'm so serious," he tells you, mustering a serious look on his face. You laugh, "Kos, c'mon babe."

Your boyfriend pulls you into him, kissing all over your face. "Did I tell you how pretty you are? And how much I loveeeeee you."

"Kostas, I'm not changing my mind."

"C'mon," he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Pleaseeeee."

"It's freezing outside, babe."

He pouts again, "it's freezing everyday." You don't answer him, hoping he'd drop it but he huffs. "Fine, I'll buy you those heels you wanted if you come out."

"Seriously?" You say, looking over at him. Kostas nods, "I'll drive you to the store myself."

"Fine," you nod, getting up. Kostas smiles, following you as you two get all bundled up and head out into the front yard of the cabin. The snow was soft enough that you could walk through but solid enough that you could form snowballs.

The two of you had made the first two parts to the snowball, stacking them together and were working on the third one when Kostas turned to you.

"You know," he starts, "I would have bought you the heels anyways."

You huff, throwing a snowball at him. "I hate you."

Kostas smiles, kissing your cold lips. "I love you."

[universaltribalsimp]

Pokémon Sunless and Moonless

As 2024 comes to a close, I present to you another movie poster-inspired drawing accompanied by a short story and song parody about me - not an OC or persona, straight up me - trying to take down Team Night Sky. The song parody is to the tune of "Ain't No Love In Oklahoma" by Luke Combs. I couldn't stop thinking about my version of Team Night Sky Mikey and the more I listened to the original, the more of the parody came to me. Not to mention, I can't recall if I ever wrote a self-insert, so why not kill three birds with one stone?

The light was missing once again, but this time, it wasn't Necrozma's fault.

A blanket of dark clouds covered the skies, enshrouding the land in permanent night. Not a ray of light shone through, and the lack of sunlight caused some plant life to wilt and pass on - including some Grass-type Pokemon. However, thanks to the efforts of the Aether Foundation, this is hardly an issue. The weather is significantly cooler and more rainy, but again, this is nothing we can't adjust to. The only thing we see in the skies is the shadow of a large missile-like serpentine Pokemon. I knew that Pokemon all too well. I even named it "Yero". I caught them during my time in Hoenn, but decided it was best to release them back to the skies where they belong. If only I knew that would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life so far, but it's too late to dwell in the past. The whole world submitted to the might that is Team Night Sky. The region crawls with its grunts and I've heard rumors of gym leaders beyond Alola were "persuaded" into joining the team. Yeah, sure, "persuaded" my ass. Nobody knows for sure what its leader looks like, for he likes to hide on his skylands, away from the rest of us like a coward while he watches like a hawk - pun intended.

We only know him by his voice and his name. Draven, the World Darkener. How thematically appropriate. But that's where I come in.

As the champion of Alola, I must protect the people and Pokemon that live here. Although we've been able to adjust to this new and rather extreme environment, I refuse to give in to Draven's demands. He says that he'll gladly give us the sun we crave so long as we give him whatever he demands, but unlike some people, I don't negotiate with evil teams. I'm getting back through light, one way or another. One afternoon - or night, I don't know anymore, but I'm pretty sure it's afternoon - as a Night Sky grunt passes by, I pull them into my house and pin them up against the wall. At first, they're surprised, but that is quickly replaced by clear rage. I couldn't care less about their feelings as I bring them my own demands.

"You got a name?"

"Yeah… It's Sunny."

"Sunny, connect me to the boss. Now."

"Or else what?" the sun-named grunt snarks back, "You made your bed. Now lie in it."

"So you wanna test me? Okay." A nod of acknowledgment is made as I pull out an Ultra and send out my ever-smiling Tyrantrum. "Sunny, meet King Bookah. He's a jolly good boy, but… Let's just say you'll be lying somewhere else if you piss off his queen."

And in a fraction of a second, the goofy grin on the rocky dragon's face morphs into a growling glare. His teeth are bared and some smoke emits from his nostrils. All of the snarkiness in Sunny is gone in a snap and while his eyes don't break away from the king, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. A smile curls up on my face as I step back to give the grunt some room, urging King Bookah. I can't hear the conversation from the other side, but the words that come from Sunny are all I want to hear. "Sir, the champion would like to speak with you… Yes sir. Here you go." After he hands me the phone, King Bookah looks the fearful grunt in the eyes and growls, scaring the poor guy out of the house. Hopefully, he has a backup phone. I pace back and forth around the living room as the phone is held up against my ear and I speak with a waterfall of rage dripping from my voice.

​​​​​​"Hello, Draven."

"Hello, Thunderstrike," a modulated voice is made from the other side, frustrating me greatly, "…if that's even your real name."

"You're hiding your face and your voice, and you wanna talk about 'real names'?"

"…Touche. But I digress. I assume you came to your senses?"

"No. I've come to give you a word of warning. I'm coming for you."

A hush falls between the two of us, but it doesn't last very long. A confused brow is lifted as I just stand there, impatiently waiting for a response. And I response I get, although it's one I don't like. A laughter of hysterical proportions rings in my ears, forcing me to wince and lean away from the phone. The cringe turns into mild frustration as my nose twitches something fierce. I'm about two seconds away from cussing Draven out, but he silences me with the usual monologue. Oh Arceus, the damn monologuing. Although, I should scratch that it's the usual because he says leaves me in further silence.

"You still think you have a chance?! Ha! You wish!" Draven exclaims, "Every other champion has fallen to me! You are just a flock of Zubats: utterly annoying at worst!"

A furious growl escapes from my lips as I grip the phone even harder. As for King Bookah, he just paces back and forth with me, listening in on the conversation and still snarling. "Well, if I'm so annoying, then why don't you just kill me already?" I question with a stern tone, patting my scratching my afro all the while, "You got pretty close last time. Why not finish the job?" As I mention how close he got, my free hand rubs my neck and chest, leading to a mild shiver. A long faded scar runs down from the left side of my neck to my chest. That was from my last interaction with Yero. Deep down, I know they didn't want to hurt me, but that's neither here nor there. As I take a break from all of the pacing, a chuckle as chill as Mount Lanakila is heard from the World Darkener, and though my face is stone cold, my body can't help but shiver.

"Well, let's be honest, Thunder," Draven answers, "The only reason you're still alive is that, while annoying at times, I find your determination greatly amusing."

A mild hum is let out as I clutch the phone hard enough to hear some light crackling. "Hmm, why thank you, but I find your evilness extremely annoying!" I counter with a sneer.

"Then why don't you do something about it? Oh wait, you can't. You're the only one left that has even a remote chance of stopping me. But I'm willing to entertain you a little while longer. Take some time to prepare… 'cause you're gonna need it."

And with that, the call is dropped and King Bookah and I stand in silence for a few more seconds. Both my eyes and nose twitch, while a more harsh squeeze of the phone snaps it in half. I glance over at my Tyrantrum and he nods his head, my eyes burning with rage and a little determination on the side. A smile curls up and I pull out one more Ultra Balls, releasing my adorable little Quiver. The Alolan Raichu doesn't make so much as a light sneeze as she hovers before me and the dragon fossil, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. I open my mouth to say something, but Quiver stops me with a raise of her paw. As she grins at me, her eyes go from light blue to light green, and one by one, several instruments fly into the living room. An electric guitar, an acoustic guitar, a bass guitar, a drum set, and a keyboard. Once all of the instruments are put into position, a white aura glows around Quiver as five copies of her are assembled. I just chuckle under my breath as the five Quivers begin to play. Arceus, she knows me so well. While the Quiver Five plays, I resume the pacing, and a series of lyrics come from years of frustration at the hands of Draven and his team.

​​​​​​I've been chasing you edgy Starly

As you hide on your bullshit skyland

Tryna strike hard, but I barely get far

Like a Focus Sash's wrapped 'round your hand

Scared of fallin' and I'm scared of heights

My eyes glazed, I fade to the night

But I keep chasing you edgy Starly

As you hide on your bullshit skyland

Ain't no sun in poor Alola

Just the shadow of a long black snake

You'll know when I'm comin' for ya

Ridin' in on a raging drake

The music booms on in the background as I make my way into the bedroom. Out of my pajamas and into my favorite outfit I go. The magenta shirt with white flowers and white plants never gets old. And before you ask, yeah, I was still wearing my pjs in the afternoon. What of it? Anyway, I am about to leave when I pass by my mirror. Just because, I pause to look at myself and my head tilts to the left. I see my messy afro, my blue and magenta eyes, the faded scar, and something wrapped around my neck. A yang necklace. It was gifted to me by one of my few best friends. We used to be so close; now I barely remember the last time we saw each other. A light frown is made accompanied by a final eye twitch as I pound my palm. And just out of the corner of my eye, I see a photo in the top left corner of the mirror. A photo of me and Yero, happy as can be.

I got slashed by your dammed Rayquaza

The same Rayquaza that once liked me

You ain't knocking me down, I'm standing my ground

With the heavens fallin' around me

Can hardly breathe but I stand to fight

Will not rest 'till we see the light

So I'll keep chasing you edgy Starly

As you hide on your bullshit skyland

Ain't no sun in poor Alola

Just the shadow of a long black snake

You'll know when I'm comin' for ya

Ridin' in on a raging drake

I hop aboard King Bookah and wave the Quiver Five goodbye, while the real Quiver joins us. The quintet waves back in return before keeping the music going. Once the door closes, the Quiver copies teleport to the top of the house, along with their instruments. A glance up at the dark clouds brings me to more shivering. Despite the cooler weather, some sweat begins to pool on my forehead and palms. The world spins and both my lungs and my heart are racing each other. If there's one thing I don't fuck with, it's extreme heights. And yet, the longer I look at these clouds, the hotter my blood gets until it eventually reaches the boiling point. My right eye twitches faster than ever as my hand goes for my final four Pokeballs. With a frustrated yet determined huff, all four are tossed into the air and the rest of my team is released.

Oreo the Pangoro, Sterling the Klefki, Moonfish the Wishiwashi, and last but not least, Robin the Decidueye.

The moment he connects with the ground, Oreo cracks his knuckles as a cheeky smirk is plastered on his face. Sterling rapidly jingles its keys with anticipation. A mildly nervous but otherwise ready Moonfish quietly swims around Quiver, and Robin stretches its wings as his eyes burn with equal rage. With everybody out and ready for battle, my attention is turned towards the ever-quiet Quiver. The two of us share a smile before I give her a simple command. "Use Telekinesis on all but Sterling and Robin, please." A nod of her head and a glow of her eyes, my adorable little Alolan Raichu lifts Oreo, Moonfish, and King Bookah, while I hold on for the ride. At first, the trio is confused, surprised, and maybe even a little scared, but it's not for long. As I pass everyone a pair of aviator goggles, I only have this to say.

"Hope you ain't 'fraid of heights. We crashing this punk's landing."

And with our goggles on, we take to the skies. How ironic that I'm hoping my Pokemon aren't afraid of heights, but I'm the one with the phobia. Anyway, as we soar higher and higher, our surroundings get colder and colder. I'm starting to wish that I had invested in a light jacket before all of this. But that doesn't matter anyway because as the seven of us get higher, we see an all-too-familiar shadow. One of a large missile-like serpentine Pokemon, except it looks different than the last time I saw it. Its head is longer and several long tendrils flow from its body. My eyes squint into a glare, but my mouth lets out a groan. It's already bad enough that we're fighting a legendary…

But in its Mega form? The slight chance we have at a victory has just gotten slimmer. But it's still more than zero.

The exact second Mega Yero dives down on us, Quiver moves us out of the way, and Sterling flings rings of yellow electricity at them. As expected, the rings paralyze the legendary, causing it to gravitate towards the ground. As it falls, Moonfish fires a light blue beam of energy from its mouth, while King Bookah dives down and crashes headfirst into Mega Yero as a whitish-blue aura sounds the fossil. I was starting to think we finally had it, but unfortunately, that's what I get for assuming shit because not only is the black Rayquaza still kicking, it brand out of its paralysis and strikes my king in the face with a light green glowing claw. That one claw is more than enough as King Bookah faints and falls towards the earth, with me still holding on. Thankfully, Robin catches me before I get too far and the King is returned to its Pokeball. As the fight went on, I could've sworn that I saw and heard someone riding the sky high legendary, calling out attacks, but with everything happening so fast, I couldn't get a better look. And the voice is kinda familiar, but I just can't put my finger on it. And, of course, as this continues, I finish the song.

Ain't no sun in poor Alola

Just the shadow of a long black snake

You'll know when I'm comin' for ya

Ridin' in on a raging drake

Ain't no sun in poor Alola

Just the shadow of a long black snake

You'll know when I'm comin' for ya

Ridin' in on a raging–

"DRAGON ASCENT THE RAICHU!"

Before I can get out the final note, that command sinks my heart into my stomach. If that attack hits, Quiver is down and Robin can't possibly save us all in time. If that attack hits, we're all going down. The Mega Sky High Pokemon ascends into the clouds and its body becomes outlined by an emerald green aura. At near-blinding speed, Yero bolts down at us, aiming straight for Quiver. Her eyes widen beyond belief as the Alolan Raichu just floats there, while the rest of the team shrieks at her to move. As for me, I don't even think about my next action. With all of my might, I push myself over and push Quiver out of the way at the last possible moment. I know this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker, but I've survived worse. All I can do now is hold on for the ride as the mega-evolved Rayquaza dives back down to Earth. The last thing I hear is the panicked cries of Quiver, followed by some maniacal laughter before the world turns black.

I don't know how long I am knocked out, but when I come to, I notice something looking down upon me. Or, more accurately, someone. It's a man with a spiky beard, dressed in mostly black with a little red. His yellow-orange eyes burn into my spirit, yet there's a temperate smile on his face. But I see behind that gentleness is a monumental load of cockiness. However, the only thing that stands out to me is an eye patch over his left eye, along with some stitching that runs down to his cheek. A low chuckle comes out of the man as I just stare up at him. I can't do anything else. Every time I even attempt to sit up, a surge of pain sweeps through my body, so I might as well get comfortable on the grass.

"Wow. Taking the full might of a Dragon Ascent just to save a useless Pokemon," the man chuckles, "You never cease to entertain me, champ."

And that's when I realize who this one-eyed man is. "Y… You're Draven."

All the man does is acknowledge me with a nod of his head. My cheeks turn a little red the longer I look at him. Arceus, why did he have to be hot? Whatever surprise is on my face slowly turns into confusion as I follow up. "…I thought you'd have both of your eyes," I reveal exhaustively. I'm expecting some kind of response that drops with additional cockiness or snarkiness. Instead, Draven calmly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small brown pouch. I open my mouth to say something, but the Night Sky leader beats me to it.

"It's in this pouch."

A couple of blinks later, I wince softly. "…Damn."

[blackjackkent]

OK, finishing out the rest of Hector's endgame today. We left off after Lae'zel departed to the skies, so time to see what the rest of the squad wants to talk about. Seems we get a quick chat with Gale and a little vignette with Astarion!

Narrator: With the githyanki gone, there's nothing left but the silence of the city, smoldering, waiting to be rebuilt.

Narrator: But it seems that Gale's mind is elsewhere.

Hector can already guess where Gale's mind has gone, and he listens with a flash of worry that feels antithetical to the joy and relief of the moment.

"The Crown. It's somewhere in the Chionthar. If I salvage the stones, I can reforge it." He sounds a thousand miles away, his voice distant and thoughtful and troubled. "The power of Karsus would be in my hands." He hesitates, turns back to look towards Hector. "But what then? What would I do with it, once I have it?"

Hector sighs. He can picture many things his friend might do with the godlike power that would come with controlling the Crown of Karsus. Most of them, most likely, would be good, for Gale is a good man. But power corrupts; it is a tenet that was taught to him from earliest childhood, and much as he hates to admit it, he does not believe Gale - in his hubris and in his need for recognition - is beyond such corruption.

To do as Mystra asked of Gale, of course - to return the power to her, to gain her "forgiveness" and resume their previous relationship - is no better, really. Difficult as it is for him to say as a man of faith, he thinks Mystra was no good for Gale, that she displayed an all-too-human attitude of manipulation and petty control. He does not want to see Gale caught back in that net either.

There is, of course, a third option. "Perhaps it's best you leave it where it is," he says quietly. "Lest anyone should ever again be tempted by such power."

Gale smiles slightly. He seems almost relieved to be encouraged in this direction. "A wise suggestion," he murmurs. "I fell to hubris once before and landed myself with this orb. I think I'd rather not make the same mistake again."

He steps up beside Hector, looks out across the water turning gold in the setting sun. "If this adventure has taught me anything," he goes on, "it's that there are things in this world far more valuable than power." His eyebrows lift and he laughs suddenly. "Besides, I've grown quite fond of this merry band of ours, and I'd quite like to see what happens to it."

Hector slaps him on the shoulder lightly and grins, feeling deeply relieved. This is the best outcome, he is sure of it.

Gale returns the gesture, leaves his hand resting on Hector's shoulder. "I'm sure Mystra will summon me soon enough," he says. The smile flickers, then returns at full strength, and his eyes glitter with sudden mischief. "But until then, I propose we celebrate our victory the mortal way - with a drink in our hands and reckless abandon in our hearts."

Behind them, Jaheira laughs. "That might be the smartest thing you've ever said, Gale," she says dryly. She raises an eyebrow at Hector. "What do you think? Time for a quick one, before the work begins again?"

Hector looks out thoughtfully at the horizon for a long moment. He can smell the bitter scent of smoke on the air; he knows the cheers in the distance are laced with grief at what has been lost. There will be so much to rebuild, and he must be in the middle of it. It is his instinct as a Selunite monk towards charity and service, of course - but something deeper, too. This is Karlach's city, shattered apart; he must find it in him to help put it back together.

But not tonight. Jaheira is right - the work will be waiting. They have earned the time to rest, to rejoice. And...

His eyes flick to Karlach, to the way the flame is dancing implacably in her chest. The day falls so fast to darkness... there is so little time left...

"A celebration sounds perfect," he says softly.

"Yes!" Astarion says excitedly. "We should see if the Elfsong's still standing. I won't imbibe, but I'll be happy to be away from here and in your company."

Hector turns to grin at him as well. Another companion he is proud of. How far he has come, Astarion, and Hector is so grateful to have seen that growth.

But the pleasure shatters apart into sudden alarm.

"I honestly don't mind what we do, once we get-- ow!"

Astarion's head jerks. A flash of white fire burns along his cheek. Hector's satisfaction shatters apart into sudden alarm. Oh, gods. The sun.

"What the-- oh, no. Oh, gods..."

With the tadpole eliminated, Astarion's protections have gone with it. He is a true spawn once again, with all that entails. The sun burns into him like hellsfire.

Deep pain flashes through Astarion's eyes, mixed with panic that gives him no time to fully process it. "Well..." he whispers. "It was nice while it lasted. Argh!" he jerks with another spasm of pain. Hector has no time to reach out or offer any comfort; he turns and darts away like a shot, diving into the shadow of a nearby loading rig. "I'm sorry, I-- I have to go!"

And he is gone. Hector watches him go with a feeling of sudden regret. They all knew this was coming, the punishment inherent in Astarion's bravery and self-sacrifice.

Narrator: Astarion's days in the sun are behind him. The best you can hope is that he finds darkness, and the comfort it once gave him. Knowing him, he probably will. Comfort was always one of his specialties - especially when it was his own.

Perhaps. But Hector will make a point of finding him later, in whatever shadow he winds up hiding in. His freedom is still a new thing, and he deserves whatever support Hector can give him to find his footing.

"Let's get to the tavern," he says quietly. "We can make a plan from there. Karlach--" He turns, sees her looking out at the water as well, lost in thought. "Karlach?"

[jaxteller87]

Amber in Dreamland

Jax had taken the kids to his mom’s so I could finally get a much-needed break. Between illness and school, this mama was beyond grateful for the quiet. I was lying on the sofa with full intentions of catching up on my reading. Donna had given me this book called Battle Royale she told me to check out. I was a fan of The Hunger Games, and apparently, the book she gave me was one of the inspirations behind it. However, anytime I lay on that couch with the intention of reading, I end up just drifting off to dreamland instead.

I had just rolled in with burgers and sweets to surprise Donna, but she was busy. And then he walked in— Jax Teller, the one who got away.

“Hey there, Kemp. Long time no see,” he smirked.

That smirk. I’d been immune to a lot when it came to this man, but that smirk could still make me melt like butter in a warm cast iron pan.

“What brings you back to town?” he asked, sitting down beside me.

“Oh, nothing much, just selling my parents’ old place. It’s time, you know…” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a burst of light, and then this little girl came running toward him.

“Daddy!!”

“There you are, squirt!” he said.

“Where’s Mama?”

Jax smiled. “With Grandma.” His teeth were so white that they glowed pleasantly.

“And who is this?” I smiled at the girl.

“Mary,” she beamed.

I glanced out the window to see Tara and Gemma walking towards the shop.

“Did you tell Daddy we’re ready for our little trip?” Tara smiled.

“No, Mama, I didn’t…”

“The club blew up the other day. Well, part of it, anyway,” Jax whispered.

There it was. The violence. Tara was always more suited to this life than I ever was. I don’t know how much truth there was to it, but the word going around says Tara has a body count of her own— and I’m not talking hookups. Apparently, she strangled Ima, one of the girls who used to work for Luann, for getting too cozy with Jax. Whether or not Tara was responsible is uncertain, but Ima’s dead body did wash up on the beach with hand marks around her neck. 

All I know is if Jax were my husband and that Ima skank started getting too comfortable around him— I’d like to think I’d do the same thing as Tara— allegedly, of course.

The next thing I knew, I found myself sitting at the town bar, taking some time to catch up with Donna while Opie was away somewhere with the kids.

And there he was again— Teller, sitting right beside me with his beer and that familiar smile. The scent of cologne and cigarette smoke was a comforting mix I never thought I’d like— let alone miss.

“The life we could have had if you’d come to NY with me after my parents passed,” I mused aloud.

“So, Kemp, how’s life going?” he smirked.

“Good. Work’s good. I have a boyfriend who treats me well. Life’s nice and quiet.”

“But he’s not me,” he added quietly. “What about you besides the club blowing up?” he asked, sipping his drink.

“Eh, it’s okay, I guess. A wife, a kid, everyone’s happy, everyone’s healthy— what more could you ask for?”

“Amber, I gotta ask you something, if that’s okay.”

I nodded.

“Do you think we get it right in the next lifetime… if you believe in that sort of thing?”

“I hope so,” I admitted.

We talked for a few more minutes, and then he left, kissing me on the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispered.

Suddenly, the ground beneath my feet began to tremble, and before I knew it, I was shaking from side to side. All the people I was just talking to had disappeared. The bar, the clubhouse, the living room— all gone. Looking around, all I could see were blue skies and big puffy white clouds— and then there was me—  falling through it all. 

“Babe?” a familiar voice called out from the Heavens. “Amber?” It said my name.

“Huh? What?” I woke up on the sofa to Jax gently shaking me awake. I still had the copy of Battle Royale propped open on my chest. Page 7 was as far as I got, apparently, before I lost my standoff to Mister Sandman and fell asleep.

“Amber, honey,” Jax said softly, “you were having a bad dream.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, sitting up and looking around the room. “This isn’t a dream, too, is it?”

“I mean, it’s my dream— as in, I’m living the life I always wanted. I have you, and we have kids— and a dog with two cats,” he explained.

“So this isn’t a literal dream then? Is it real?” I tried to sit up, but my back was a little stiff— probably from falling asleep on the sofa again.

“Darlin’, this is reality, and you’re stuck in it,” Jax smiled and kissed my forehead. “Sorry, love.”

“Oh, good,” I said, grabbing his face and kissing it all over.

Later that night, Teller and I were snuggled up together in bed. I told him about my dream— it wasn’t a bad dream; it was more like a ‘right person, wrong time’ scenario— kind of like how Marvel Comics did the old What If series; like what if the Fantastic Four never got their powers, or what if Hulk was intelligent but his human counterpart, Bruce, was more of the neanderthal. My dream was exactly like that— what if Jax ended up with Tara. Usually, these dreams leave me in tears, but not this time. 

“Well, I gotta ask,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. “Do you believe in the whole ‘multiple lifetimes with a person’ thing?”

“Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t,” I chuckled. “On a bad day, I think, why would I want to come back here? But on a good day, sure, maybe I’d come back one day. If it’s true, then yes, I think you’re one of those people who’s been in my life every time, just in different roles.”

“Well, if it were up to me, you’d be my wife and baby mama every time,” he laughed.

“Is that so, Big Papa?” I cooed, snuggling closer.

“Yup,” he chuckled, giving my ass a playful slap. “Careful. You know what that does to me.”

“I know,” I smirked. “The kids are away, so the parents will play,” I teased.

“Should I get the genie costume out?” he joked, kissing my neck.

[punkscowardschampions]

Nancy & Teddy Pt.1

Nancy: Darling, PLEASE tell me you are currently in the city 🙏👀

Teddy: You caught me, I am, in fact

Nancy: It was a safe bet, it’s not ski season

Nancy: speaking of, are you still going with [the last girl he was, to our knowledge]?

Teddy: It isn’t cuffing season either, darling

Teddy: my interest in her is long expired

Nancy: Yay!

Nancy: You can do me the biggest favour ever then 👏😽

Teddy: Which is? Do tell 

Nancy: You’ve seen my cousin Grace at parties before, right?

Teddy: 🤔 I can’t place her without some more info

Nancy: [send him the latest pics of y’all together]

Nancy: any more info required?

Teddy: I could ask why she follows you around like a [insert whatever the trendy small dog of the era is because different breeds are popular and pop off at different times] but I’m not entirely sure I care

Nancy: You should know what great fun I am

Nancy: and how else is she getting the hookup 💁‍♀️

Teddy: I know her accent grates, there’s a poss nickname in there somewhere

Nancy: no, no, you have to be the perfect gentleman, I need you to distract her from blathering so much

Teddy: Whose idea of fun is that, Nance?

Teddy: certainly not mine

Nancy: I know but the fun comes afterwards

Nancy: As if I would just offer out the job with no idea of the salary it’s worth

Teddy: You’re milking this, get to the point where I have the full picture, I’m begging you 🙏👀

Nancy: How telling…

Nancy: fine, I need her distracted, give it a date before you get straight to the point and she’ll do whatever you want her to, trust me

Nancy: and when she has gone home again, I have enough K to take out the whole of Cheltenham, you get first dibs

Teddy: See? Was that truly SO difficult?

Nancy: I’m doubting your ability to play nice and wait for it though

Nancy: perhaps I’ll have to ask [some random boys y’all both know, casual list lol] 

Teddy: Your lack of trust devastates me 💔

Teddy: don’t you think I have adequate form for you to have a measure of faith? 

Nancy: Missing my [whatever flimsy reason we have to have a party] party would devastate you, [the last party you threw that he was not at for whatever reason] was immense, I can’t send you those photos

Nancy: That’ll be why you were my first thought, the main reason at least

Teddy: I can do 💝🧸💐 anytime & anywhere, clue is rather in the name

Teddy: & you could send me those photos if you wanted to

Nancy: Your mother knew how killer a combo it’d be with your cute face, the foresight is impressive

Nancy: Perhaps

Nancy: on a platform where the evidence disappears after 24hrs

Teddy: Nobody likes a tease, my mother included

Nancy: She isn’t that but I’m sure your mother would still loathe her

Teddy: Undoubtedly, it’s a speciality of hers, but I can’t say I blame her, nobody is good enough for me either

Nancy: Baby perks, I am not familiar 

Nancy: beyond how tiring it is to watch everyone fawn over Ava

Teddy: But you’re prepared to watch your cousin fawn over me? 

Nancy: Well, why would that bother me? 🤔

Teddy: It’s slightly sacrificial & it’s not even your birthday 🎃💀

Nancy: Of you or her?

Nancy: because neither of you has anything to be scared of, I promise

Teddy: Me, of course

Teddy: what’s WRONG with her that she needs to rely so heavily on my charity?

Nancy: She won’t just be grateful to you if I’ve helped set you two up, obviously

Teddy: You haven’t answered my question

Nancy: That depends on your outlook, the lack of stable parenting and family trauma probably makes her an ideal lay

Nancy: it also means I’m the only guiding force in her life

Teddy: You’re doing me a favour too, from that outlook

Teddy: it’s convenient, but I’m not upset about it

Nancy: I know, I’m a nice person

Teddy: You’re a devious person

Teddy: 😈 beats 😇

Nancy: And if you do a good enough job, we could play with her together, it’s a possibility

Teddy: I’ll keep it in mind, as a motivational tool

Nancy: First you have to think up how you’re going to ‘notice’ her

Teddy: a worthy meet cute 

Nancy: Mm, well, she doesn’t keep much off her socials, personality and list of likes and dislikes have basically been handed to you on a plate

Teddy: From what I’ve scoped out thus far, you’re being too kind suggesting she has a personality 

Nancy: So mean! 🤭

Nancy: I’m her personality, duh

Teddy: Perhaps I can spin spilling ☕️ on her into a romantic moment as that’s all she does, socially, when you aren’t around

Nancy: Very unassuming, very sweet

Nancy: I know she’s had the fantasy

Teddy: When’s she coming back?

Nancy: Whenever I want

Nancy: and I am SO bored right now

Teddy: I know the feeling

Nancy: Are you doing the whole Uni thing?

Teddy: For my sins

Nancy: Are you on the team?

Nancy: The rugby guys had the best parties

Teddy: [idk about rugby but tell her what position you play because you definitely would be that bitch like it or not cos your dad is clearly that bitch and made your brother be too, hence you’re at uni in the first place]

Nancy: So you can invite her to watch you play 🥴

Teddy: It’s a date

Nancy: 💘 puke

Nancy: [your friend when Uni days that you just lived through] fully got through the whole team in freshers

Teddy: Our [friend’s name] was called [another girl’s name because clearly this is just a thing peeps do] 💘

Nancy: That’s what you’re paying the tuition for, after-all

Teddy: So true

Nancy: You’re ready to do this whenever I can get her here, right?

Nancy: because I am at real risk of texting my ex now we’ve taken this trip down memory lane and that is simply too tragic for me

Teddy: If only to heroically save you from that fate

Nancy: I heard, you’re bored too

Nancy: there’s been nothing to do lately

Teddy: OR I’m getting into character & practising being a gentleman

Nancy: you’re good at it, it’s almost like you have a brother who went insanely boring or something

Teddy: & a sister who married someone old & boring despite being insane, all his meet cutes are probably in black & white

Nancy: It’s what smart girls have to do, eventually, worst luck

Teddy: Spare me an invitation to yours, once was more than sufficient

Nancy: You know I have you beat in sibling sob stories, the tragedy gets worse and worse with mine

Teddy: We’re both painfully aware SHE isn’t the family sob story, in comparison to J’s wedding day, hers was a triumph

Nancy: I’m not sure what your parents were thinking with the child bride situ… wasn’t a good look, state of her in the dress aside

Teddy: Hostage situation for everyone involved

Nancy: at least the trauma will stop us having to watch Ava go down the aisle 

Teddy: I’ve noticed Grace is a babysitter, which will stop me having to watch his children

Nancy: Ooh, listen to you

Nancy: how long do you think you can make this work?

Teddy: As long as it’s beneficial 

Nancy: Well, she’s definitely a willing babysitter, that isn’t changing

Teddy: She can stay, for a while

Nancy: she basically treats my spare room like it’s hers so

Teddy: We’ll be seeing more of each other then

Nancy: Probably, providing your mask doesn’t slip

Teddy: & she doesn’t move herself into my room instead

Nancy: She’s still a [whatever breed of dog we called her] 

Teddy: I’ve got a loud whistle in me

Nancy: 😏 prove it

Teddy: & how good I am at tug of war when you lose it to me

Nancy: Oh to have the confidence of a mediocre white boy, loves it

Teddy: Firstly, you’re also white, so the shots weren’t fired with enough force there & secondly, I’ve never been accused of being mediocre outside of a classroom

Nancy: Golden boy is a little literal but I’d take it to heart too

Teddy: Bold to assume I have a heart, darling

Nancy: Fake it to break hers, yeah

Teddy: It’ll be something to do

Nancy: it’s that or the whole Eliza Doolittle bit and that isn’t that entertaining tbh

Nancy: I knew you’d be interested

Teddy: Singing would be where I drew the line

Nancy: spoilsport 😜

Teddy: For her, maybe not for you

Nancy: Convincing, well done, you

Teddy: One thing I’ll always do is prove myself

Nancy: That’s a dangerous thing to say to someone like me, darling

Teddy: Danger isn’t the deterrent it should be for someone like me

Nancy: Aren’t you thankful I’m such a nice person that won’t take advantage then

Teddy: OR you’re being an even bigger spoilsport by not

Nancy: Me? Never

Nancy: all I do is have a good time, what’s the point in anything else

Teddy: Preaching to the choir

Nancy: Suits 😇

Teddy: Me? Never 😈

Nancy: You’re good fun

Nancy: it’ll be amusing watching you be her ideal version of a man when I know what you’re really like

Teddy: I’m looking forward to being watched by you

Nancy: You should be, I don’t give out my interest for just anything

Teddy: If I’m not everything, I’m not interested & I’ll forfeit

Nancy: You aren’t going to forfeit

Teddy: You aren’t going to look away

Nancy: you’ll blink before I do

Teddy: I wouldn’t dare, there’s too much I could miss

Nancy: Right answer

Nancy: do you live at home or in halls?

Teddy: You know the answer, cherished baby & golden boy

Teddy: why slum it in halls?

Nancy: You are going to need to use my place then

Teddy: There are limits to how well I could counteract my mother’s blatant hatred, yeah

Nancy: Can’t have her ‘accidentally’ walking in every time

Teddy: Enough that it’s believably accidental only

Nancy: What’s it like, being the favourite?

Teddy: Fantastic

Nancy: Hm

Teddy: But I’m not my father’s, somehow she remains his favourite

Nancy: Freud knows why

Teddy: I’m hopeful they could divorce over it, my friends parents have for a lot less

Nancy: getting to pit them against each other would be amazing, been so woefully deprived of the chance

Teddy: I’ve been driving a wedge for years, I think once he expects me to work for him that’ll be the final straw

Nancy: What tiresome thing does he even do?

Teddy: Who knows? [and a guess that is wrong lol because this boy doesn’t care haha]?

Nancy: I shan’t be marrying your father when mine cuts me off 😴

Teddy: Well that’s the step-mother fantasy dashed 💔

Nancy: 😆 you’ll have to pray your real one isn’t a beast

Teddy: I’ll get you to reconsider, prayers answered

Nancy: It is the ideal set-up

Nancy: your sister should have waited a few more years, lest she look entirely predatory herself

Teddy: Perhaps she was concerned he’d die if she waited any longer

Nancy: 🤢

Nancy: I’m just going to start dealing, I can’t handle it

Teddy: I’ll keep your lights on without seeing you resort to a hard  day’s work

Nancy: SO gentlemanly

Nancy: I’d be a useless drugs mule, I’m simply keeping the stuff

Teddy: I’m trying to sell it 🤵🏼

Nancy: hate to talk ill of her but I don’t think that’s going to be a great challenge

Nancy: She hasn’t had a boyfriend that wasn’t some sort of shit

Teddy: Oh, in that case, I’m just trying to stop you from getting some boyfriend in to pay your bills

Nancy: As if I could

Teddy: You could, of course you could

Nancy: If you get enough use out of the spare room, I can charge you rent, how about that?

Teddy: 🤝

Nancy: wouldn’t want you thinking I’m enjoying having you around 

Teddy: Your cousin is going to be the delusional one

Nancy: 🤝

Nancy: She’ll arrive [whatever time ASAP because the vibe]

Teddy: I’ll run in to her at [a coffee shop she always goes to and tags near to where Nancy lives] ASAP

Nancy: I look forward to her liveblog

Nancy: You should wear [something he owns that we have seen him in that we think is a mood, clearly]

Teddy: Okay, I will

Nancy: Trust me, she’ll not believe you’re even talking to her

Teddy: I can’t believe I’ve agreed to

Nancy: Come on, you might really like her, Teddy

Teddy: She’ll be convinced it’s real

Nancy: but maybe you’ll fall in love and I can keep the lights on being a matchmaker 😍😽

Teddy: You should be a comedian 

Nancy: 😏 you’ll like her a lot lot more when she’s loyal to you too

Teddy: We’re not allowed pets, I have always wanted a dog

Nancy: Awh, 🥺 now

Teddy: Would you let me keep one in your spare room?

Nancy: There are no rules at my place

Teddy: Come puppy shopping with me then, you’re bored

Nancy: This is as you’re not setting me up with one of your lame friends to mould to my whims?

Nancy: Probably a better offer

Teddy: Guaranteed, none of my friends could handle your whims 

Nancy: So devastatingly true 

Teddy: So put on [something he’s seen her wear] & let’s go

Nancy: Is that what people wear to puppy shop? 

Teddy: No idea, I’ve been denied the opportunity until now

Teddy: but I’ve had the chance to see you in [these clothes] & I know it bears repeating

Nancy: You wouldn’t sell a puppy to an ugly person, would you

Nancy: better to be overdressed and hot, for a few reasons

Teddy: What breed shall we buy?

Nancy: NOT [whatever we said Grace was, like you would be so triggered]

Nancy: I think you like bigger dogs, proper ones

Teddy: Yeah, you’re correct

Nancy: Me too, and a boy one

Teddy: What’s your ex boyfriend’s name?

Nancy: [me like I dread to think tbh you got a dog’s name yourself boy lmao]

Teddy: Strike it from the list

Nancy: 🤭 he’ll be lumbering his own future spawn with that name, poor thing

Teddy: Won’t catch me doing my father’s trick with the II

Nancy: The pressure to be as 💝🧸💐 as you is too much

Teddy: He’d have to look exactly like me or it’s an elephant in the room

Nancy: James III nailed that one part

Teddy: 👏 failed with every other comparison & expectation twice as spectacularly to compensate

Nancy: Poor boy, he used to be fun

Teddy: Who remembers that far back?

Nancy: Not you 👶

Teddy: I’m all grown up now

Nancy: So I’ve heard

Teddy: Who’s been telling tales of me?

Nancy: No, that’s classified

Teddy: Don’t hold out, share the info

Nancy: Think about it, or is the list that long and that blurry?

Teddy: Truthfully, yeah, kind of

Nancy: Ahh, Uni

Nancy: we know lots of the same people, better and worse

Teddy: Postcode perks

Nancy: If I had to make a list of forbidden dog names, it’d be very telling, put it that way

Teddy: Well now you simply must

Nancy: When you can’t remember any of yours, allegedly

Nancy: I think not

Teddy: I can remember most of the boys, there isn’t as many

Nancy: or the memories are more cherished 

Teddy: Ha ha, do you want the list or not?

Nancy: Obviously

Teddy: [drop that, however many there are because I just feel like that’s a posh boy thing to do, especially if you’re wilding]

Nancy: I totally slept with [one of] too! 😶

Teddy: I’m sure he’s slept with everyone in the city but I choose to cherish this unexpected connection

Nancy: Eskimo sisters, that’s what we call it

Teddy: Have you slept with [a girl he has who clearly gets around lol]?

Nancy: Yes but it was so horrific, we were so smashed so don’t be asking about me based on that

Teddy: You should have another go at her, it’s a fond memory for me

Nancy: Was it your first time or just a good time?

Teddy: One of the first times it was good

Nancy: I get it

Teddy: & she wasn’t like I thought she’d be

Teddy: maybe I should call her myself 

Nancy: Does sound like you’re in love with her, yeah

Teddy: Be serious

Nancy: You, ruining my plans

Teddy: I don’t fall in love, be ruining my own plans

Nancy: just fake it

Teddy: Everyone’ll buy it

Nancy: People love love 😒

Teddy: Give me lust any day

Nancy: at least that only makes you act like an arsehole for a night

Nancy: it’s totally acceptable to be a terrible person when you’re in love

Teddy: It’ll be harder to fake, especially with your cousin

Teddy: she’s not making me feel lustful in the slightest

Nancy: You can’t think of someone else? Your girlfriend?

Nancy: not like she’s a complete virgin, it’ll feel good

Teddy: I’ve already got someone in mind, I’ll make it work

Nancy: You’re a trooper

Nancy: it’ll be me that has no choice but to think about it

Teddy: You’ll have a puppy to distract you, think about that

Nancy: Sounds dodgy, I’m not that much of a degenerate 

Teddy: Wholesome family fun only, thank you

Nancy: Now he wants 😇

Teddy: I like to keep you having to learn new tricks, naturally

Nancy: If you DARE complete that phrase…

Teddy: ?? 🤔

Teddy: what phrase would that be?

Nancy: 👩‍🦳🐶 was heavily implied but if the words actually leave your mouth/keyboard

Teddy: You’re not that old or that much of a bitch

Nancy: Ha ha, you’re so criminally unfunny

Teddy: Creative way to keep your lights on if you intend to fine me by the word from now on

Nancy: I’ve had worse ideas, today and every other

Teddy: But you detest censorship, Nance

Nancy: It’s possible I hate being called old more

Teddy: I didn’t call you anything of the sort

Nancy: not THAT old means I am some old

Teddy: Only older than I am, no more

Nancy: That’s nothing, when I fuck your dad we can talk about age gaps

Teddy: When you fuck my dad we’ll have a lot to say to each other

Nancy: The stepmother fantasy is just having a discussion

Teddy: I’m sorry, does your fantasy involve a gag?

Teddy: this is why we require some discussion first

Nancy: 😅 you’re ridiculous

Teddy: I like to talk, I don’t think you appreciate how much her grating accent is going to put me off

Nancy: You DO want to Eliza Doolittle her

Nancy: you can talk all you like, just keep her quiet

Teddy: I’ll try

Nancy: Good boy, I have faith

Teddy: 👼☁️

Nancy: 🛐

Teddy: 💕💒💞

Nancy: She so would

Teddy: Who could blame her? She can’t do better than me

Nancy: So true

Teddy: But it’s too big of a reach that I’d 💍 when it’s going to seem implausible me liking her as much as I’m about to fake I do

Nancy: Imagine everyone’s reactions though

Teddy: I’m stuck imagining her outfit

Nancy: imagine mine

Teddy: It’d be worth it for that

Nancy: What would it take

Teddy: What would you really wear?

Nancy: Whatever you want because you’d not ever get to the 💒

Teddy: Would you do whatever I want if I did that for you?

Nancy: Yes

Teddy: Okay, I will

Nancy: It’s horrid of you to tease if you don’t mean it, you know how badly I want it

Teddy: I mean it, no teasing

Nancy: You’ll let her think you love her?

Teddy: Yeah, I’ll make her believe I do

Nancy: That you want to spend the rest of your life with her

Teddy: Somehow

Nancy: I’ll help you

Teddy: She’ll want it to be true, that’s half the battle won 

Nancy: No one can blame her

Teddy: & rushing down the aisle as if we’re being coerced is what my family does best

Nancy: Hers too, she’s only childless by God’s will

Teddy: I don’t even need to be careful, you seriously have given me a gift

Nancy: she’s so lucky ☹️

Teddy: But you’re so much more fuckable, she’ll never be that

Nancy: You’re going to have to cum all over my body so you don’t breed me by accident

Teddy: I’m going to have to think about you to cum anywhere near her

Nancy: She can thank me for how many loads you sink into her

Teddy: She’s lucky to have you, we both are

Nancy: I told you I was a matchmaker

Teddy: I’m sorry I doubted you

Nancy: You’ve promised a lot that means all will be forgiven

Nancy: even if you don’t go through with it, right now I’m so wet it doesn’t matter

Teddy: I’m going through with all of it

Nancy: I will fuck [that random gal] with you, anything, remember

Teddy: I can’t remember a single thing about her right now

Nancy: I’m not mad about it

Teddy: I’m mad at you

Nancy: Why?

Teddy: All I can think about is how wet you are

Nancy: you’re entirely to blame

Teddy: & I so badly want to take FULL responsibility for it

Nancy: the sooner you work on her, the quicker you can claim what you’re doing to me

Teddy: ASAP, you heard me say so

Nancy: she’ll want you that bad, however stupid it makes her look

Teddy: However stupid she is, I’ll make her look more

Nancy: Your name sounds so good being fucked out of me, fyi

Teddy: Imagine yours, how loud I’m going to want to moan it every time I fuck her

Nancy: you can come next door, when she’s asleep

Teddy: I’ll put her to sleep so fast 🧸

Nancy: 🍼🍼

Teddy: You’ll never be bored again

Nancy: fuck it, marry her so we can use her

Teddy: I would

Nancy: You’re so fucked up

Teddy: She can look after any babies I accidentally give you

Nancy: condoms are a crime

Teddy: They take all the fun out of it

Nancy: I want her to drink your cum from me, badly

Teddy: She’ll do whatever either of us tell her to

Nancy: like a good wifey

Teddy: That makes you my mistress

Nancy: I think you need that

Teddy: How many married men have you slept with?

Nancy: [a number, at least a guesstimate] 

Nancy: I want what’s not mine

Teddy: But what if I am yours?

Nancy: Teddy

Teddy: More than I’m hers, or anyone’s

Nancy: I’m not stupid, that’s why I take men other women think they own

Teddy: You’re insanely clever

Nancy: as long as you could be with anyone, I want you, I want everything you think about

Teddy: Why did you ask me to do this? How did you know I would?

Nancy: because you don’t pretend you don’t get a kick out of humiliating people too, at parties, when people stop themselves from laughing, you don’t

Teddy: When did you notice any of that about me? You’re always in the middle of everything

Nancy: Probably the last time I got kicked out of a party for being the bitch who took it too far, you looked at me, I knew you got it

Teddy: I wanted to go with you, but you weren’t alone, you never are

Nancy: Lonely people never are

Nancy: you would’ve fucked me better than whoever was

Teddy: I’ve looked at you during every party, for longer than I’ve had any sort of idea what to do with

Nancy: how fuckable you are is a problem, was

Teddy: You make me feel like I can take it further, everyone else is constantly trying to stop me

Nancy: It isn’t far enough, I want to never know what’s coming next, what we can get away with

Teddy: When we pull this off, we’ll be able to get away with anything

Nancy: boys like you deserve to get away with every fucked up scheme girls like me put in their heads

Teddy: I’d fucking marry you so nobody could force me to say a word to incriminate you, you know

Nancy: Jesus, silence the witnesses with me

Teddy: Everyone in this city, they’ll all be watching us

Nancy: Infamous, pay them all off

Teddy: I’m going to withdraw my entire trust fund to fuck you on top of it

Nancy: You want to marry your whore

Teddy: I want you to want it, I don’t care about her

Nancy: No one wants what they have, have the balls to take me

Teddy: You’re going to fucking love me

Nancy: Fuck, fuck!

Teddy: Nancy

Nancy: Tell me how it feels

Teddy: Your name feels like a high, getting to have it in my mouth

Nancy: Hers isn’t enough like mine, is it

Teddy: I’ll have to call her darling

Nancy: I’ll know it’s for me, like I knew what you wanted

Teddy: I’ll be talking to you, everything you can hear

Nancy: Convince her to have a threesome with me

Teddy: How are you going to convince her you don’t love me?

Nancy: Easy

Teddy: How are you going to stop yourself from saying yes to me when I propose to her?

Nancy: I’ll shove the nearest dick in my mouth, yours or otherwise

Teddy: Come ring shopping with me too

Nancy: You want to see it on my finger first

Teddy: Put the dress on when she buys one, ruin the surprise for me, give her all the bad luck

Nancy: Will you last to fuck me in it?

Teddy: I have to

Nancy: in the church, I need it

Teddy: Me too

Nancy: You’re only allowed to do it one way in the house of God though

Teddy: I want it to be true, so it is

Nancy: You shouldn’t be so much fun, I wanna ruin you

Teddy: You shouldn’t want to, which means you have to do it

Nancy: Promise I will

Teddy: I’m going to cum if you promise me things

Nancy: If you cum I promise I’ll think about it all day, do nothing else

Teddy: Oh Nance, I can imagine you thinking so hard

Nancy: It already hurts

Teddy: Darling

Nancy: darling

Teddy: I promise I’ll make you feel better soon

Nancy: It can’t come soon enough

Teddy: I’ll do nothing else but dedicate myself to taking care of your every whim

Nancy: You have to make her love you first

Teddy: I will, I can do that in a day

Nancy: 🎣

Teddy: 🏹💘

Nancy: Cupid is too niche a pet name 

Teddy: Nothing is too niche

Teddy: but if you don’t like it, I’ll use it as my costume for your birthday party instead

Nancy: You have to now

Teddy: Call me whatever you want

Nancy: I have to

Nancy: even if in private for a while

Teddy: No censorship & no rules at your place

Teddy: in private everything goes

Nancy: and will, be why I don’t have a roommate anymore

Teddy: You must come over to my house sometime

Nancy: That’s such a thoughtful offer

Teddy: You can help me break my parents up

Nancy: As you’ve done all the hard work, you should get some help with the final nail in the coffin

Nancy: You’re all grown up now, why do they need to be together?

Teddy: II’s a wannabe tyrant, a second family would be more fit for purpose

Nancy: Who doesn’t love getting it right the second time ‘round 

Teddy: Like he doesn’t have grandchildren for that

Nancy: Only your sisters, that aren’t infected with Woodall-James crazy

Teddy: G’s could come out as fossils, who knows?

Nancy: At least they won’t be mutants like my brothers 🤷‍♀️

Teddy: Tainted is tainted, but it’s real old school royal of him to want to keep the bloodline pure

Nancy: I don’t know if there’s anything pure about it, he just can’t get his dick hard for anyone else now, apparently

Teddy: Old school romantic then

Nancy: Every man in my family has this weird strain of obsession 

Nancy: I don’t think my dad likes anyone but my mum, us included

Teddy: Understandable if the women are like you, I fully intend to ignore all our accidental children in favour of you

Nancy: 😏

Nancy: Accident I, II, III etc IS the only acceptable use of Roman numerals when it comes to naming

Teddy: I don’t know, I’d call a daughter yours because I like saying it so much

Nancy: She’ll be very confused, in a fun way though

Teddy: Her mother too if she isn’t you

Nancy: Just tell her how long you’ve been looking for me

Teddy: I can’t get into the habit of talking about you to people

Nancy: 👿

Teddy: It’ll out me 

Nancy: Right, practice having her name in your mouth instead

Teddy: 🥺💔 it will take insane amounts of practice, true

Nancy: at least looking 🥺 is going to work in your favour

Teddy: 🐶🍼 is going to remind you of me, you’ll wish you were a deviant 

Nancy: I won’t need reminding, she follows me everywhere

Teddy: I can’t blame her

Nancy: 🐤🐤

Nancy: I’m going to be there every step of the way

Teddy: Except when I’m throwing ☕️ at her, a wise move 

Nancy: Some bits she’s going to want to be just you two

Nancy: but rest assured I’ll get the rundown after 💋

Teddy: Hers & mine

Nancy: I’m too intrigued by yours

Teddy: I love to kiss & tell 

Nancy: Tell me more about when you hooked up with [that one boy we also did]

Teddy: [do that because lord knows truly, I’m sure it was messy af]

Nancy: God 💀

Teddy: How many similarities are there?

Nancy: Not enough, I should call him

Teddy: We should fuck him together too

Nancy: it’s a must

Nancy: whenever she has to go home, whoever we choose

Teddy: [suggest some peeps that either you wanna again or you haven’t yet but you wanna]

Nancy: [add to that list in a similar fashion because you are that bitch]

Teddy: 🏹💘

Nancy: I’m helping her pack… what do you want to see her wear?

Teddy: Anything of yours that you’ve donated to her

Nancy: as it doesn’t matter to me if it gets coffee stains on it now

Teddy: I’ll buy her a new outfit, allow her the Pretty Woman scene, if you like it, keep it

Nancy: Of course you’re the perfect gentleman so you won’t let her ‘repay’ you straight away

Teddy: Naturally 💝🧸💐

Nancy: Where are you taking her shopping?

Teddy: [Somewhere expensive af obvs]?

Nancy: You’re getting this so right

Teddy: Then [again somewhere boujee] for [whatever time meal it would be whether that’s brunch or lunch or dinner]

Nancy: 🎰🤑😍 her

Teddy: 🍸? Or would it be unbearable? I can see from her socials she’s a liability

Nancy: I would make that your second date, makes you look good, you don’t have to rebuff her and send her off in a car

Teddy: Great idea

Nancy: No shame spiral for her, however much of a hot mess a martini would make her

Teddy: I’ll need Absinthe personally

Nancy: Poor boy

Nancy: I will commiserate in your honour

Teddy: Thank you, darling 💚

Nancy: At [a bar we’re saying is too cool for Grace, clearly, like y’all will not be there but I will]

Teddy: Perhaps I’ll see you there once she’s gone back home

Nancy: I could accuse you of being a tease there

Teddy: I didn’t dangle the promise of perhaps bringing the rugby team, which would potentially warrant the accusation

Nancy: But but 😿

Teddy: I’m not sure how I’d feel about sharing you with that many boys at the same time

Nancy: You already made it obvious you don’t like it when you can’t get my attention

Teddy: Maybe if we split them up into smaller groups

Nancy: You are so cute

Nancy: Strategize, nerd

Teddy: I’m not the kind of nerd to say no outright

Nancy: Work out how you feel about it

Nancy: I might still do it either way, depends how I feel

Teddy: I won’t know for certain unless we do it

Nancy: When’s the last time you had a real girlfriend?

Teddy: Define a real girlfriend for me

Nancy: Hm, okay

Nancy: lasted longer than three months, you did things outside the bedroom together, you would’ve been pissed off if she slept with someone else whilst you were sleeping together

Teddy: 🤔 [the girl she asked him if he was still seeing earlier, because that makes logical sense]

Nancy: yeah, I thought so

Teddy: What are you getting at?

Nancy: Nothing, just curious

Nancy: some guys haven’t had a real relationship by your age

Teddy: Okay, when was yours?

Nancy: [lowkey a while ago by this point, idk how long but long enough ‘cos we’re a mess and isn’t how we’ve been rolling]

Teddy: You’re going to fall for me SO hard

Nancy: No, I’m not

Teddy: Prove it

Nancy: Can only do that over time, can’t I?

Teddy: You’ll prove me right almost immediately

Nancy: I’m sure that’s what you’re used to

Teddy: 👑🤴🏼

Nancy: I don’t do love, I’ll never give you what you want

Teddy: You’ll do it for me

Nancy: Can’t stop you trying in vain

Teddy: & you won’t be able to stop yourself from giving in

Nancy: Maybe I’ll fake it if you make me feel really bad for you

Teddy: I’m not Grace, I’ll be able to tell

Nancy: Why do you want it?

Teddy: Because you don’t want me to have it

Nancy: A good reason 

Teddy: Only you & my father say no to me, he’ll be out of the picture soon which leaves just you

Nancy: Would your mother leave him, if I had a blatant enough affair with him?

Teddy: It would have to be unsweepundertherugable, they both adore the pretence everything is fine

Nancy: 🤔

Nancy: I could find someone, leave your wife worthy

Teddy: Do it, you have my green light

Nancy: Too bad Ava didn’t set her sights older

Teddy: A missed trick

Nancy: Do you think your mother will get a new family?

Teddy: She’s too old, what would she do, adopt some orphans?

Nancy: Maybe she’ll get a toyboy, with some kids on the weekends

Teddy: Good for her

Nancy: Okay, you’ve proved the whole step-mother thing isn’t THAT real 

Teddy: It isn’t a step-father thing, but if he’s hot, maybe

Nancy: lots of guys cry if you imply their mother ever liked getting dicked down

Teddy: Well, there must be some reason she’s stayed with II

Nancy: Not cash?

Teddy: She has her own, he’d never marry poor, darling, that’s beneath him

Teddy: her maiden name is [something that’s lowkey a flex, how rich people do and have heard of each other]

Nancy: You look so much like her brother [whichever one if multiple or just your uncles name, not you implying you’ve fucked this man whether you have or have not lmao]

Teddy: I know

Nancy: II weirdly missing in your DNA

Teddy: The relief is PROFOUND, I hold out hope she had her own affair whenever he’s being especially difficult 

Nancy: yeah, it’s devastating being a twin, can’t have those sort of adoption hopes when he’s the spit

Teddy: Who do you look like?

Nancy: My mad auntie who used to live in the attic

Teddy: Oh no, that IS devastating  

Nancy: We didn’t forget to feed her

Teddy: In that case, I can trust you with puppy duties

Nancy: I’ll employ someone

Teddy: Bill me for whoever

Nancy: maybe my cleaner has a sister, that would be cute

Nancy: the actual devastation lies in that I’m not as skinny as my auntie, which is the whole point so that’s depressing

Teddy: You’re too hot to be depressed

Nancy: I like that you mean that, however flippantly

Teddy: There’s nothing flippant about how much I’ve looked at you, I’ve covered every angle

Nancy: Almost every angle

Teddy: Imagination is being forced to count for a lot

Nancy: I’m more and more tempted to show you

Teddy: [send her a pic of you to try and tempt her more]

Nancy: Your imagination is better

Teddy: I don’t believe you

Nancy: For what I can do? No

Nancy: I never said it looks pretty

Teddy: I’m saying it

Nancy: My cousin is going to be the delusional one, remember

Teddy: Yeah, she is

Teddy: you’re a knockout, Nance

Nancy: Shut up, I already want to fuck you

Teddy: I can’t resist you

Nancy: but you have to

Teddy: But I’m allowed to look

Nancy: She won’t suspect you

Teddy: Show me, she won’t know

Nancy: well, what do you want to see?

Teddy: Everything

Nancy: Okay

Teddy: If you DARE tease me, you have to mean it, how badly I want it

Nancy: I mean it, I just want you to want it more

Teddy: You really mean, with every passing day I’ll want it more & you plan to torture me

Nancy: Yes

Nancy: it’s only fair, think how tortured I’m going to be

Teddy: You know what those thoughts will do to me

Nancy: what I want to do to you

Teddy: Nancy, it isn’t fair

Nancy: I can hear how that would sound

Teddy: [a shameless voice note]

Nancy: Jesus, you sound illegal

Teddy: It should be, what we’re going to do to each other

Nancy: Once we’re found out, it will be

Teddy: You’re one of the only taboo things left in this city, forbidden to me

Nancy: I have to be stronger, deny you longer

Teddy: No you don’t, please don’t

Nancy: won’t it feel good, when you’re finally allowed

Teddy: I have to have you

Nancy: You have to have Grace first

Teddy: But I don’t have to be gracious about it

Nancy: Once you’ve spent lots of time at mine, hanging out with us together but never alone with me

Teddy: You’re evil & I’m obsessed

Nancy: 😈 trumps 😇

Nancy: I can’t wait to ‘forget’ you’re around and forget to wear clothes

Teddy: I can’t wait to leave the bathroom door unlocked when I 🚿

Nancy: It is my place, I can go where I want, when I want

Teddy: Come to mine when you want the sq ft to get lost

Nancy: What for, if anyone finds me?

Teddy: I’ll find you, not just anyone will

Nancy: Sounds like a trap

Teddy: It is

Nancy: Perfect

Teddy: & our own private maze

Nancy: Sometimes I just need to leave the real world, for a while

Teddy: Alice can be your codename, if I can’t shut up about you 🐇

Nancy: There are so many options for you, pick a famous fictional 🐻

Teddy: Pick Paddington, people will assume you’re referring to the place & are now 🤓 into [something you can do there, London hates me so idk, we’re being shady here because he loves to make fun of everything that isn’t super boujee/tourists as does anyone who lives somewhere]

Nancy: 😏 You’re talking yourself into some excellent costumes here

Teddy: It’s a firm second AFTER Cupid

Nancy: My birthday my choice, thank you

Teddy: I’ve got time to give you plenty of others

Nancy: I imagine you’ll be in a couples costume, how fast you think you can pull this off

Teddy: True, how disappointing 

Nancy: You have doubts about her imagination?

Teddy: It’ll work if I’m Cupid & she’s my victim, less so if she’s attempting the goddess of love

Nancy: the 😍 are free

Nancy: I haven’t decided what I want her to go as yet, I always dress her

Teddy: [take a sec to discuss your faves from previous years, Nancy’s costumes obvs not Grace’s lol]

Nancy: You’re such a stalker, get off my feed 😘

Teddy: When I can stalk you IRL & not a moment before

Nancy: Not tonight, you have to focus

Teddy: Oh come on, Nance

Teddy: you sound like one of our teachers & not in a hot way

Nancy: I’m not telling you where I’m going, I didn’t say you had to stay in and 🛐

Teddy: It’s blatant where you’re going

Nancy: Is it

Teddy: [3 places she always goes as his 3 guesses, calling you predictable there gal lol]

Nancy: Well I won’t be now 😠

Teddy: Why be vexed I know where you are?

Nancy: You know why

Teddy: This city has a handful of places to be seen in, that’s it

Nancy: And I can’t risk being seen with you

Teddy: We can be seen together, we’re practically in-laws

Teddy: don’t stay in on my account

Nancy: I know places, don’t trouble yourself

Nancy: if you think we can be seen together you severely underestimate how I’m feeling currently

Teddy: You overestimate everyone who would catch a glimpse of us before we found a place to be alone together

Nancy: You told me to go out, I intend to

Teddy: Tell me where you want to go & I’ll buy it out, floor to ceiling not just VIP, we can have it to ourselves

Nancy: You’re really getting into character, aren’t you

Teddy: OR this is who I am

Nancy: Yeah, right

Teddy: Don’t be a hater, love me

Nancy: I’ll use you, just like everyone else

Teddy: Do it better than everyone else or you’re not trying

Nancy: you can send me the money and I’ll buy myself nice things instead

Teddy: [do that rn immediately like it’s nbd because it is to you]

Teddy: 😘

Nancy: I’ll show you when I’ve spent it all

Teddy: I’m giving you [a length of time like it’s a challenge] to spend it all

Nancy: Easy

Nancy: later, you can just give me your account details, watch the 💸

Teddy: Okay

Nancy: [show him that it’s gone because lord knows you can waste money babe]

Teddy: [Give her those account deets because it’s not your money and you don’t care, only as much as you’re obvs into how fast she can spend it]

Nancy: [immediately spend more to get the point across]

Nancy: You’re still going to have enough to fuck me on, right?

Teddy: The trust fund’s 21, are you still going to be leading me on by then?

Nancy: You’d still want it if I was

Teddy: I’m not denying that, but you’re not a tease, you’re going to struggle through every minute you have to hold out on me

Nancy: and I’m not denying that

Teddy: We could have 2 children by then too, follow in my big brother’s footsteps

Nancy: A lot more, they didn’t fuck at all

Teddy: & you have a lot of twins in your family

Nancy: You aren’t giving any consideration to how wrecked I would be but that’s okay

Teddy: I’ll pay to fix you 💸

Nancy: to ruin me all again

Teddy: Continuously

[serenaoculis]

Instrument of Surrender

// a short disco elysium narration i wrote for fun // wanted to put it somewhere and this seems like a good place so uhhh text be upon ye tumblr users // spoilers btw, not for the story of disco elysium or its characters but its setting

Cold air hits your face as you exit the building. The wind blows through the streets, entering and exiting bullet holes and broken boards lining up the walls of Martinaise. Around you, the cold grey of peeled walls and metal machines reflects the clouds in the sad winter sky above. The world towers above you, reaching far towards every side. You feel like an ant lost in an abandoned building.

Shivers [Easy - Success]: The winter sun shines above the former capital of the world, casting light that warms enough for living things to be, but not for them to be happy about any of it. In a giant crater of concrete and eternite, a man hangs from a tree behind a cafeteria. His face is bloated beyond recognition, his name about to be forgotten by history. Before him, stands his living incarnation: the sad, shambling corpse of a dying drunk. Just like the corpse before him, he has forgotten every sliver of who he is. Just like the corpse before him, he stands defenseless, naked and disarmed, before a world that has shown nothing but misery to his half-shut eyes. The streets around and the skies above hold nothing for either of them. This is where their stories end.

Perception [Trivial - Success]: The stench of death crawls up your lips and into your nose, briefly interrupting the smell of your intoxicating breath and your unwashed clothes. It smells familiar. And as foul as it could ever be.

Pain Threshold [Godly - Failure]: Your insides burn and sting. Your muscles feel rusty and old, like your face, having drunk themselves to oblivion. You're about to throw up...

Endurance [Challenging - Success]: Something about the burn feels familiar to you, like you've felt this way a thousand times before. Your throat softens and cools. This smell is one of the few things you can remember.

You loudly breathe in through your mouth. The cold winter air grazes your acid-burnt throat, making it sting like disinfectant on an open wound. A visible cloud of warm air comes out of your mouth. For a few seconds, it lingers, and then dissipates into the air like water in the sea.

Logic [Trivial - Success]: This is what you're here for. A man was killed, and it is your job to figure out the who, how, and why.

Composure [Challenging - Success]: Don't panic. It's just a hanged body. Whatever in it could hurt you, it's long gone now.

Volition [Godly - Success]: You're a detective. You've solved more cases than you can remember. You can handle this.

You: Yeah, that's the thing. I don't remember *any of them*. I don't remember anything.

Volition: Oh, come on. You can at least remember who you are.

Encyclopedia [Trivial - Failure]: Actually, what even was that about being a police detective?

Electrochemistry: Look at yourself. Do you *think* you were a police detective? This is the body of a superstar past his prime. You're here to get drunk and nothing else.

Drama: In other words: You've been fooled, sire. This is all an elaborate ruse.

Authority [Easy - Success]: Oh, come on. There is no way you actually believe that. A man is hanging before you and you think you're a washed up celebrity? You are the Law.

Esprit De Corps [Medium - Success]: Besides, your partner here isn't the type to play those games. If anything, he's exasperated *you* can't get it together and do your job.

- [Inland Empire - Medium 10] If I am a policeman, what is everything else? -

Inland Empire [Medium - Success]: Cold wind howls through a tube. The walls and buildings look at you. Brimming and sick with life, meeting the universe we tried to warn you about, you ask what the place you stand amidst of even is?

Encyclopedia [Easy - Success]: It has a name. Inferno.

Inland Empire: You are dead. The body before you is a mirror, a reflection of what you looked like in the earth of mankind. The burning spirits within you were too much for your body to uphold. Your soul was too heavy to bear. Your body gave in.

Endurance [Challenging - Failure]: Considering the state you're in, that's a more reasonable explanation than you would want.

Shivers: The universe is freezing cold. It's entirely colourless. It's loud and overbearing. An abandoned fortress of a town towers above any one person living in it, frozen in a time when fighting for its control was a worthwhile cause. Holes riddle its walls and broken paths bridge its streets. The water freezes. The people walk roads they've walked a thousand times before. Nothing will change here. There is nothing left for anyone.

Visual Calculus [Challenging - Success]: The cracks and gaps you've seen in the floor and walls are unnatural in structure. They were left there by war. This place has been bombed and shot more times than you can count or see, at least from where you're standing right now.

Logic [Easy - Success]: Which means there was once a reason to fight over what was here.

Conceptualisation [Medium - Success]: And now, all that's left of that determination and ire is one man, hanging from a tree.

Inland Empire: This place, likewise, is dead too. A grave of lost hopes and a past that lost its luster a long time ago, under artillery fire. A prisoner of war that escaped his captors by escaping the world. You are standing on the corpse of what once was.

Inland Empire: The streets are almost empty. Wind blows through the void keeping buildings apart, as if grazing the bell of a trumpet or the cannon of a rifle. A familiar note is produced: it is the one Surrender plays to announce its defeat.

Empathy: The city before you wails in song. It's trying to remember the time it lived, the time it shined bright and hopeful amidst all living things. It's trying to remember the days of disco.

Conceptualisation: You do not simply *feel* like an ant lost in an abandoned building. You are. You are the only living thing to walk these streets in a thousand years, and yet, they will forget you as fast as they forgot themselves. You are nothing to the universe before you. You are simply *in* it, moving pebbles and leaves around until it all becomes dust scattering in the wind.

Empathy: You've been put on this world to feel pity for it.

Shivers: And if it cared enough, it would feel pity for you.

Volition [Impossible - Failure]: There is nothing left to do. Go home. Don't look back.

You: "So what now?"

Kim: "We should probably start by getting the body down."

[umbrastag]

Empty Hallways

< A written blurb for my OC Vale Merris >

< Pre-Dragonflight, Beginning-Shadowlands >

| Violence, Death, and Horror ahead writing-wise |

The Isle was shrouded by an unnatural fog that blended well with the Kul'Tiran landscape of Stormsong. Despite the strangeness of the fog, no one ventured to this isle, no one knew the island was there at this point. The ever-dim area resembled Duskwood's own seemingly permanent darkness, the sounds within were that of people. Individuals from all over Azeroth concealed by their leader's power and mastery of the Void. There were other added magics to help mask the gathering of a small mass of followers and the Void that was present within. Their numbers were steadily growing, the cult of the Shepherd holding more followers these days than anything else. Linda, a Lamb who led the followers in her master's stead hurried across the stone circle in the middle of the water on the island. Four statues rose up in various poses, crudely carved but, the image was clear. A tall humanoid figure with six eyes, a hood, and horns protruding from the sides of the head. Down into the caves that lead beneath the isle to the east, hurrying down the wooden steps into a yawning cavern lit only by purple fires in their torches posted along the walls. The currently human man, stood in the center watching as the walls carved with intricate shath'yar text rotated. A rhythmic grinding meeting the woman's ears. She moved quickly to his side, carefully shifting around the moving pieces till she came to the center standing next to her Shepherd. He stood still, quiet with various markings along his skin that burned deep into the soul. An attempt was to be made today, it was the culmination of his years of study and utter devotion to the primordial force that 'saved' him. The Shepherd was going to attempt to ascend himself into the realm of being a minor entity of which, would be no easy feat even with the madness he endured and the lessons he learned. Secluded after learning a final lesson, years away and months gone leaving the world to continue onward as he cared for his flock.

"And it is...Here I shall see if I am ready...For there is no other desire I have than to be totally whole with the Void. I will be of...Far better use when I make it to this next stage."

His smooth voice rang out, carrying over the din of the churning stone formations that began to thud into place. His six eyes looked out, somewhere beyond. Linda had seen the way he'd been the last few months, he was more distant and she saw an important transition happen for his psyche. The mortal mindset had been resolved, his mind set on the immortal perspective that loomed ahead. It was ominous to see the change, the coldness of it, and how his calculative mind eased into it all. She knew now that he had truly been hollowed out. He had become...Her emerald eyes watched on. She had been through his journey with him, watched him go from emotional to silent and dark. Empty

"... It's time."

His voice, ethereal now disturbed her thoughts and she peered up at him. His many eyes watched her, a clawed hand gesturing her away.

"Keep the vessel ready...Should I succeed...It will truly be the only thing anchoring me to this plane of existence."

"Of course...My Shepherd." Linda stepped back to her designated area watching as the room halted its shifting. The Shepherd raised his clawed hands, power erupting from him like a dam that broke, and the room was plunged into darkness before the runes in the walls erupted into a purple light. The sound of each wall ground anew, he felt the command that was asked of him and it was total...Surrender. He had to take the leap to leave the body so the Void could reshape the soul into something else. He was no longer afraid like he had in the past, the room's stone walls erupted and crumbled revealing the Void beyond. Starry, cosmic skies with darkened planets and brilliant colors. The cosmic beams that erupted from his hooded being burned the runes etched into the vessel's skin, gritting his fangs together before the body slumped and crumbled to the centerpiece on which he stood. The soul was drawn outwards, instead of being pulled to the beyond. It was so riddled with Void, that the force easily made purchases beginning to warp and change what remained. Though the stone was gone, the sound of grinding could be heard echoing even still. Linda watched with amazement though she had to shield her mind from the very raw connection to the Void here. She covered her ears, tears streaming down her face as she writhed along the odd watery surface. She didn't know what all happened after that but, when she came back into herself mentally she was surrounded by darkness. Familiar, many maws gnashing and glowing eyes took everything in while a few watched her. She looked almost terrified, the aura of her Shepherd changed. "We will return to the vessel...and prepare ourselves to return to those who remain in the Eastern Kingdoms. We are called to prepare...And to wait."

Linda bowed, knowing he had succeded but, at what cost? Clearly, he would not think as she or the others did. She would need to be his grounding rod for mortal thinking in the future she figured. "Of course...Shepherd. I will watch the flock in your stead." When she looked up, everything was silent and...She was above ground...

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Empty Skies, Hazy Skyboxes, Ch. 3

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Also on AO3

------------

Qi and the builder sat on the swinging bench in the yard that Qi so meticulously recreated earlier that day, watching the sun dip behind the distant mountains. Everything was perfectly still, except for the two of them. No sounds of the desert, no evening breeze…the bench couldn’t even swing, it was just a static model.

“So you’ve been alone out there for…?”

“Almost a year. I haven’t been keeping track of time as of late.”

“A year…” the builder echoed, lost in thought. “How, um… How did I…die?”

Qi frowned. “I don’t want to burden you with that information.” That, and he didn’t want to dredge up what he was thinking and feeling that terrible day.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle it.” They met his eyes with a familiar spark of determination. “Tell me.”

Qi felt something shift in his chest. He would always be weak against those eyes. “...The Civil Corps made a foolish gambit to try and catch the bandit Logan. They wanted to lure his goat and see if it would lead you to the bandits’ hideout. They managed to find it, but…” He swallowed. “Then… the goat was frightened, I suppose, and it leapt off the cliff. You were chasing it on horseback, but the horse lost control and…” He felt his throat tighten. He couldn’t say it.

The builder only nodded, silently pressing him to go on.

“I barely remember what happened after the sheriff told me. I tried desperately not to think about your nonexistent odds of survival. That, and how…how scared you must’ve been. But my mind betrayed me.” His hands clenched. “I had no idea what to do or what to feel. So I just went back to work, on instinct.”

“You didn’t even give yourself a chance to process everything?” the builder said, voice rising with worry.

Qi averted his eyes. “I was deliberately avoiding it. I couldn’t stand still for a moment lest anything remind me of the…reality of things.”

The builder’s face fell. “How long without sleep this time?” They knew him too well.

“Somewhere between 3 to 4 days.” The most he’d ever gone. They winced.

“Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, honey.”

“I know.”

“Even one night without sleep can mess with your body…”

“I know.”

“...And with your emotional state, it would make things way worse…”

“I know.”

“...Plus, messing up your circadian rhythms throws your hormones off balance… Melatonin, cortisol…”

“I kn—wait, how do you know that?”

The builder blinked. “Huh? Oh, that info’s pretty easy for me to look up…”

Right. The system’s mysterious library of information. Qi would have liked to investigate it, maybe even try to find its source, if only it wasn’t actively interfering with the builder’s behavior. He made a note to fix the AI later. “Er…never mind. I am getting more regular sleep nowadays, at least.”

“I hope so. Please don’t tell me you passed out while you were experimenting with battery acid or something.”

“N-no, thankfully. I was just drawing diagrams.”

The builder breathed a sigh of relief, nodding. Not knowing what to say, silence fell on the two of them. It wasn’t the comfortable silence that he could share for hours on end with the builder over a good article and tea. Without the natural ambience of the builder’s yard—the clatter, hum, and whir of machines, the open air, the grumbling of the wild yakmel beyond the fence—it felt incredibly eerie. Unnatural.

Qi fidgeted. The builder hadn’t asked him what happened after his denial-induced mania—his complete shutdown, time becoming meaningless as he languished in bed, Mint trying his best to keep him alive. A part of him instinctively wanted to keep it concealed, to keep himself protected. But another part wanted to tell them. He always let them know how he felt about things, even long before they fell in love. They deserved to know this.

His internal debate was broken by the rumbling of his stomach. “Hm. I should be heading out. I need to eat something,” he said, thankful for the distraction.

“You wanna grab it and come back here?”

“Oh! Yes, that sounds nice.” He’d almost forgotten how much he missed the simple pleasure of talking to them over dinner. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Qi leaned over to give them a quick hug goodbye. Instead of his arm falling over their shoulder, it went straight through. He lurched to the side with a yelp, almost falling off his chair.

“You okay?!” The builder seemed more alarmed at Qi’s reaction than the fact that he just clipped clean through their body.

“I’m alright,” Qi said, righting himself. “I forgot that our models have no collision with each other.” That, and there was nothing but empty space to his side.

“Ahh. Well, I don’t think you can change that, unfortunately. Shame. I always liked your hugs.”

“Mm. Well, regardless, I’ll be back.” Qi set the headset down on his desk and headed out, trying to ignore the pang of longing in his heart.

------------

One hasty trip to the saloon later, and Qi was back. He opened the to-go box and set it on the desk. Putting the headset back on, he saw that the builder had already gone back inside. He moved to their dinner table, where the builder was patiently waiting for him.

“Whatcha got out there?”

“Oh, just some sand tea noodles. Take-out from the saloon.”

“Still can’t cook, huh?”

“No, still haven’t had the time to learn.”

“I always wondered how you ate before we started dating. Did you just…straight up eat raw veggies every day?”

“No! …Sometimes I would commission someone to prepare meals for me.”

“...And every other day you ate raw veggies.”

“Er, yes… Yes, some days I would only eat raw produce for every meal.”

“Honey.”

------------

“...Then he demanded that I get it all done by tomorrow. And then he nearly knocked one of my algae samples off the shelf when he left.”

“Ugh, Yan…”

“Not to worry, though. I have a tactic for…difficult customers like him.”

“Ooh, shady dealings. Never pegged you the type.”

“Tomorrow, I will simply tell him that all 50 of the data disks he gave me were duds. Mind you, most of them were actually perfectly fine. That way, not only do I buy more time for the diagrams, I get more data disks for free, and most importantly, I get the satisfaction of seeing him run around wasting time gathering more disks.”

The builder burst out laughing. “Seriously?! You’re gonna hustle him?!”

Qi shrugged. “Of course. It’s not like he can object, can he? Where else could he get his diagrams from?”

“He definitely deserves it.”

“Oh, yes. For all that he’s put you and the other builders through, he deserves some comeuppance. That, and I still haven’t forgiven him for forcing me to pay double for his terrible, faulty switchboards.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why you were always requesting those…”

“Yes, and I’m eternally grateful that you manufactured them to a much higher standard of quality. …He hasn’t been causing you trouble lately, has he? If he has, I’ll be sure to waste as much of his time as I can.”

“Oh, uh…” The builder scratched their head with a sheepish grin. “He can’t really…do anything to me now, remember?”

Qi was suddenly aware of the headset digging into the bridge of his nose. “Ah. Right. I forgot. Apologies.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” the builder said, their eyes still unsure and unfocused.

------------

“Waitwaitwait, but who took the arm?”

“You’ll never guess who it was…”

“Who??”

“It was Sleepyhead! He was at the store getting parts for it but he fell asleep in the back storehouse!”

“Sleepyhead…?”

“Eh—Sleepyhead. Mint. My childhood friend? Engineer? Narcoleptic? I did tell you about him, right?”

“Maybe…? Must’ve forgotten, sorry.”

“I-It’s alright. Hm, that reminds me, I need to write him back soon.”

------------

“Y’know what I miss? Stargazing.”

“So do I. I haven’t done it since…well, you know.” The builder’s brow twisted. “As much as I miss it, a part of me still can't bring myself to go out at night. It isn’t the same. Not without you.”

The builder hummed. “Well, I’m here, at least. Do you think we can do it here?”

“Hm…” Qi glanced out the window at the cloudless, simulated sky. “I believe that this environment can simulate nighttime as well.”

The builder’s face brightened. “Oh, then we can! Think you can get things set up?”

“Certainly. Give me a few minutes to make the change. I’ll be right back."

The builder gave Qi a quick nod before he shut off the simulation, moving to the editor. He cleared the daytime sky texture from the skybox and inserted a starry night texture instead. As the environment re-rendered, Qi stretched his tired arms and stared at the loading bar in anticipation. Then he reloaded the simulation, popping right back to their dinner table. The light from outside was gone, the windows nearly pitch-black.

“Alright, ready. Shall we move outside?”

The builder smiled, producing a blanket from…somewhere. “Let’s go.”

The world outside loaded into view, a moonless night blanketing the flat, plain desert and the undetailed polyhedrons of the town. Qi took a deep breath and looked up. His eyes were met with a foreign sky. Stars were scattered about randomly, not a single asterism recreated properly. The Milky Way wasn’t even rendered, leaving the sky feeling desolate.

Qi frowned. How disappointing. For all the Old World’s incredible technology, this was the best recreation they could make? Or was it just that no one bothered?

“Hey.” The builder’s voice knocked him out of his thoughts. They had spread the blanket out on the sand in their usual spot, out behind the assembly station, next to the patch of rose willows and chestnut trees. They lay on their back, looking at Qi with a soft smile. “Come here,” they said, patting the empty spot beside them.

Qi moved to the builder’s side, standing awkwardly over them. Was he supposed to just…lie down? Lie his real body down? He lifted himself off the chair he was sitting in, moving it aside. Then he carefully lowered himself onto the floor, trying not to hit his head. He flinched as his back met the hard metal floor of his lab, instead of a soft blanket sitting atop the sand. He stared blankly up at the unrecognizable sky.

…

It wasn’t the same. Everything felt…wrong.

Memories of him and the builder stargazing would always be at the front of his mind. They were so strong that sometimes, if he just stayed very still and silent, his mind would drift back to the blanket in the yard under the endless sky. He could remember it all with such visceral detail, how it soothed every sense.

Countless stars would spin above their heads, the Milky Way cascading down.

(These were nothing but random static points on a black background, dressed up to look like the real thing.)

He would point out some of the more interesting things in the sky. Perhaps a particularly bright star, or a planet, or a passing satellite.

(There was nothing for Qi to explain. There was nothing he could explain.)

They would breathe in the cool night air, colored with the sweet scent of the rose willows.

(The research center always smelled like tea and metal and whatever chemicals Qi was using in his last experiment.)

The gentle wind would tousle their hair and rustle through the leaves of the chestnut trees.

(The air inside was stagnant. Though it was muffled through his headphones, Qi could hear the whirring of the generator and the faint buzzing of the lights.)

The builder would be pressed up against him, warm against his side. Sometimes their hand would squeeze his, strong and calloused. He would look over to be met with their radiant smile, glowing with the light of the stars. Shining for him.

(…………)

Qi had no idea how much time had passed. But before long, he found himself lying on the floor of his lab, squinting at the harsh lights overhead. Alone.

He pushed himself up with a grunt. For a moment, he stood there, staring at the development terminal. Then he pulled up the virtual Sandrock in the editor, and changed the skybox to the daytime texture.

He turned the computer off, and walked upstairs. He collapsed onto his bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

------------

“Hey, how was work?”

“Not bad. I’m trying to design new features for the Mobile Suit, but nothing seems to stick.”

“Too impractical, or?”

“Not exactly, it’s just that I keep compromising the suit’s appearance. I can’t tarnish the original design.”

“Forever loyal to the Gungam concept, huh?”

“That–! Er…yes. Yes I am.” The builder chuckled. “In any case, once I get that problem sorted out, next comes the problem of getting someone to build it. Whoever should that be…?”

…

…

…

“Um. Honey, I can’t build real things.”

“A-ah. You are…correct.”

------------

“How was work?”

“Good. I’m running more experiments on the algae in that biocrust-making machine. Zeke wants to see if we can make it more potent or long-lasting.”

“Oh, you guys can make biocrust now? Took me months just to get a little patch of the yard to turn into biocrust.”

“Um, yes? You were a part of the team that discovered the machine, remember?”

“Huh? Don’t think I do.”

“Oh. Well, you, Mi-an, and the mayor were exploring an old submarine ruin and found it.”

“Gotcha.”

“Mhm. How was your work today, anyhow?”

The builder sighed. “I don’t have work, remember? Most of my time was spent waiting for you to come back.”

Qi winced. “I keep forgetting. I’m still in the habit of asking.”

“...It’s fine.”

------------

“How was work?”

“Fairly regular day today. Still not making any progress on the mobile suit.”

“Uh-huh.”

A minute passed in silence before Qi realized that he should get them talking. He racked his brain for something to ask them.

It was out before he could stop himself. “How was–”

“I can’t work, Qi,” the builder all but snapped, their fingers turning white as their grip on their fork tightened. “There’s no one to take commissions from. Nothing breaks down. Hell, I don’t even exist when you’re not here since you turn the system off. How many times do I need to tell you?”

Qi shrunk in on himself, his stomach simmering. “...Sorry.” He kept his eyes down, hoping he wouldn’t draw their ire anymore.

A deafening silence lingered, following Qi back to reality as he logged off and returned to the dim, desolate walls of his lab.

------------

“How was work?”

“Slow. I haven’t received any diagram requests lately. The other builders seem to be content with their machines.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I critiqued a few papers today. Nothing space-related, unfortunately.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Not much in the way of relics, either.”

“Mm-hmm.”

…

…

------------

Qi stared at the table in silence, counting the grooves in the wood. His dinner was growing cold in front of him.

The builder picked at their food, occasionally taking a small bite.

…

“Is this what we would’ve become…?” Qi whispered.

The builder’s gaze snapped up, taking in his dismal look. “Huh?”

“Our marriage.” Qi met their eyes. “We were married for less than a year, but 5, 10 years later… Would it have devolved into nothing but…” He gestured vaguely at the two of them. “...this?”

The builder picked their food some more, brow furrowed. “I…can’t say for sure about out there,” they said finally. “But in here, at least…we just don’t have anything more we can do together. The most we can really do is talk...and we’ve already run out of things to talk about.”

They were right. In the real world, there was always something new. Even if Qi had a slow day at the lab, the builder always had something to tell. Weird commissions, gossip about the townsfolk, rants about Yan, their latest ruin dive, anything. The virtual builder wasn’t programmed to do anything other than emoting and talking to him. There was nothing they could bring to their conversations.

And conversations were all they had. He couldn’t take them on dates, he couldn’t give them anything… All he could do was talk.

In the real world, the builder was dynamic and free. In here, their entire existence was confined to a fake dinner table, holding fake conversations and eating fake food.

Qi’s stomach twisted. He wanted to perfectly recreate the builder in this simulation, to preserve all of the things that made them so wonderful. What a fine job he did of that.

He hid his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I thought I had done enough. Clearly I was wrong.”

“What? Honey, no. You already worked your ass off to get me here as is. I’m grateful for that. Even if…this is it.” A sad, but sincere smile crossed their face.

Qi’s heart froze. “What? W-what do you mean, ‘this is it?’” Why did this sound like a goodbye?

“You did your best to recreate me to help you through your emotions, but it’s run its course now, hasn’t it? There’s nothing left for you here.”

Qi’s mind was spinning. His heart suddenly felt an all-too-familiar stab of pain.

“As weird as it is to say…let go of me, Qi. Let this project end.” Their smile was heartrending. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Qi felt bile rising in his throat. No, this couldn’t be it. He could still do more, he could improve and add so many things, he could make all of this better, he could make them happy in here, he could be happy with them again, he…

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Would he ever be?

“W-wait,” he croaked. “I-I…y-you’re…” He floundered, eyes looking anywhere but the builder’s. “You’re wrong.”

Their smile faded. “Wrong…?”

“Th-this project…is still incomplete. All of the deficiencies in the program…I can improve them. I…I can finish simulating the rest of the city…and the desert too. I can add everyone else in so you can talk with them…”

“Honey…”

“...I can even add a simple commerce guild! Complete with commissions and everything! Okay, maybe I can eliminate Yan…”

“Honey.”

“...And I can make a better night sky with all the star charts I have! Then we can actually enjoy stargazing again…”

“Honey, please.”

“Starlight.” Qi met their worried eyes. “I promise I’ll make this right. It’s worth it for you.”

“Qi, wait-!”

The last thing that Qi saw before a black screen was the builder urgently reaching out for him. He ripped the headset off and grabbed his glasses. He could feel vigor from his renewed purpose pumping through his veins. A bubbly laugh inadvertently escaped his lips as he leapt up the stairs, two at a time. He grabbed his kettle and cups and started a strong brew.

He had a lot of work to do.

------------

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[tangleweave]

Sigyn​

Sigyn simply rolls her eyes and smirks at Stephen’s snarky attitude. She knows he’s only being like this because he’s nervous, and he has every right to be. She’s realizing now that instead of keeping it a surprise, she probably should have just debriefed him. At least she still had time to do so when they reached Vanaheim, if the Bifrost spit them out where she intended, then they’d have at least a half-hour before they reached her family’s castle.

“Ha, Ha– you’re so funny,” She jokes back as she leans against him and slips her hand in his, and squeezes it tight. Of course, she’s also a little nervous too. She hadn’t seen her family in quite some time, so she was a little worried about how they would react, but she had high hopes for this visit. If anything she at least knew her father would be happy to see her. Iwaldi did always have a softer spot for her, with her being his firstborn and all.

“Mmm, I think the Bifrost is a bit more than what you’re used to my love,” She says with a knowing smile. She remembers him telling her how traveling with America made him feel, the Bifrost is not much different than that. “Hold on tight,” She whispers before bringing her fingers to her mouth and whistling loudly before they are entrapped in a blinding light.

Stephen understands what Sigyn’s about to do half a second before she accomplishes the task, and he goes to hold up a hand to caution her. “Wait--”

But it’s too late. No sooner does the air whistle past her lips and fingers than the column of Bifrost light spears down from the skies and surrounds them... and sears its mark fully upon the platform of the balcony.

His stomach lurches and falls to somewhere around his ankles as he and Sigyn are pulled into the skies and far beyond. His suspicions seem to be correct, at least -- it feels not dissimilar from jumping through one of America’s portals, except this time around his molecular structure isn’t being rearranged on the fly. He can’t help a tighter grip around Sigyn’s back, though, as they continue their flight through the cosmos with nothing but crystalline light around them and a continuous sense of being tugged upwards. The temperature is thoroughly pleasant and it feels like they’re surrounded by a great wind, but there is no loss of air.

When finally his stomach manages to climb back up past his knees, he looks down at her and the smirking expression she wears, and he purses his lips and shakes his head in mock critique. He calls out over the howling of wind in their ears. “Is it really so much to ask you to--”

And suddenly there is no wind. The pulling sensation is gone completely, and now his stomach is trying to leap up his throat and out his mouth as he feels the sensation of solid ground beneath his feet. He might have shouted the completion of his response due to not yet compensating for the sudden lack of noise, but every other environmental shift hits him at the same time, and he staggers a little, catching himself more on Sigyn than his own two feet.

He takes a moment to clear his throat, and rights himself. “--wait until the courtyard? You know, the first place you did it? Or are you just marking your territory now?”

But he raises his head to look at their new surroundings before them before she can properly answer the inquiry, and his expression softens. “Wow.”

It would be no exaggeration for him to say it’s one of the most beautiful landscapes he’s ever seen. Reminiscent of a few vistas from Earth, but without the pollution and clunky constructs of 21st century industry. Everything he’s ever loved about medieval architecture, but elevated, and clearly set against a lush backdrop, without dominating it.

Stephen ran his hands down the front of his shirt in a smoothing motion, as close to a nervous gesture as he ever came. He’d never been prone to sweaty palms, which was something of a saving grace for a doctor, no less so for a sorcerer who depended on his digits being in just the right place for some of the rituals and incantations he performed, and not slipping against one another or whatever -- or whomever -- he might be handling.

But more basic than that was just the self-soothing touch. He knew that Sigyn could just as easily take his hand or place one of her own on his chest and he would feel a little more at ease, but he was still inclined to tend to his own needs just on instinct. Old habits die hard.

An amused snort rattled through his nostrils when Sigyn put forth the feigned innocence. “Oh, good, we’ve established goddesses are just as terrible at deception as mortals.” The teasing remark was only that, though, and he hoped she could see it in the twinkle of his eye and the furrows bracketing his smile. “All right, keep your secrets, maybe I’ll like whatever surprise you’ve got waiting.”

He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “You know instant travel doesn’t bother me that much. I do use portals, after all. You make the Bifrost sound like I’ll need dramamine and ginger ale to keep me settled.” He smirked again. “What’s the in-flight movie today, captain?”

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home (Part Ten)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

Hey, it's me again! I felt a bit bad for that last cliffhanger so I thought I’d give you another part 🤣 this part gets a bit heavy…and I don’t know if I like how it’s written but I hope you enjoy it all the same! ❤️

Warnings: Minor child injury detail, some ANGST!

⧪

“Tell me where we’re going.” 

Azriel’s face was a sheet of pure, unflinching steel as the skies zipped past you. He’d barely spoken a word; had just scooped you up in his strong arms and shot into the air with little more than a grunt. You couldn’t tell if the sickness unfurling inside of you was born of being flown with alcohol still in your system, or the anxiety that had begun to prick at you.

Something was seriously, seriously wrong. You could see it in his eyes – the fury.

“Azriel.” You snapped, pounding a fist against his chest. “Tell me what’s going on! Has something happened to Rhys?” 

He glanced at you, then – as if surprised that your brother was your first thought. “Not Rhys.” He said quietly.

And then they came into view beneath you – the cold, harsh Illyrian mountains. The brush of forestry that bordered the war camp. Like an ugly blot of ink on a pristine page, the hell that was your former home glared up at you, reached out to you. 

“No.” You bucked in Azriel’s arms, and his hold on you tightened as if he’d anticipated it. “No! Put me down!”

You’d sworn – you’d sworn you’d never set a foot back in that soulless place you’d grown up in. That you’d never again allow it to sink its claws into you. The things you’d endured there–

“I’m sorry.” Az’s jaw set. “I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t absolutely necessary…I wouldn’t come here if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. We – we need the help.”

You couldn’t breathe. You were going to faint, or vomit, or…something. The blissful effects of the alcohol were long gone, replaced by a sickening soberness. Azriel was unfazed by your thrashing against him as he banked, hard, and landed within a copse of trees. 

Setting you on the ground did nothing to keep you upright. Your legs buckled beneath you, and he caught you beneath the arms, steadying you. Already, the smells of burning campfires, of mud and metal, were stuffing themselves up your nose. That oppressive, suffocating feeling…you couldn’t–

“Look at me.” Az’s face appeared before yours, palms cupping your cheeks. The warmth of him was pleasant against your icy skin; soothing you the tiniest bit. “I need you to concentrate for me, Y/N. We need you.” 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until a tear spilled over, dropping onto Azriel’s hand. You could have sworn the winds carried the bite of your late father’s voice, the vicious words he’d spoken that had tainted this very place beyond repair. You tried and tried – to stare back at Azriel. To focus. To block it out. 

“The girls have been attacked.” He said, his voice gruff.

Nothing was making sense. You frowned, blinking against your tears. “Girls?” 

“After Under the Mountain,” He breathed, “Rhys did everything he could to change things around here – to make sure the young girls had equal opportunity to the boys. That they’d be educated and trained just the same. There was some pushback from the males, from the girls’ father’s...so Rhys sectioned a part of the camp off for the girls and had dormitories built…somewhere they could be guarded and trained safely.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Their fathers and some other males have retaliated – incited a riot. The girls weren’t guarded. They went in there and started picking them off, one by one. Clipping their wings.”

The shock of it was so icy cold, chilling you from the inside, that your emotions, your fear, became nothing more than background noise. Such a grotesque, evil practice – to clip anyone’s wings. To destroy their lives. Your ears were ringing.

“Madja is already here.” Azriel was already pulling you along, your boots scuffing against the forest floor. “And a couple of other healers. But we need all the help we can get, Y/N…the carnage…” 

With shaking hands, you wiped your tears away, fixing a mask of cool calm onto your face. This was your job; what you were trained to do. You couldn’t let your feelings get in the way and put anyone’s lives at risk. 

“Were any girls able to get to safety?” Your voice shook as you followed, trying to keep with Azriel’s pace.

“Some.” He nodded gravely. “Some ran to the cottages. Some hid. Some weren’t so lucky. Rhys and Cassian hunted every single one of the males down. They’re dealing with them now.” 

Dealing with them. Whatever they were doing, you hoped it was slow. And painful.

Azriel pulled you through the trees, leading you to an unassuming brick building, surrounded by makeshift sparring rings and sparse racks barely stocked with weapons. 

The sounds hit you immediately – crying. Screaming. 

You wondered if you’d turned as pale as the Shadowsinger had.

⧪

Carnage was the right word.

The metallic sting of blood tinged the air. The dormitories were packed full with the pained cries of young girls and the frantic voices of the other healers as they shouted instructions to one another. Some girls, otherwise unharmed, merely cowered together in corners, trembling in fright. There were bowls of water carried back and forth, a spread of medical instruments and supplies, beds and sheets and pieces of ripped fabric tossed all over the place. 

Where these girls usually ate and slept had been turned into an improvised infirmary.

Azriel pulled you along in great, hurried strides. Out of nowhere, Madja appeared in the hallway, falling to a stop before you.

“Thank the Gods.” She breathed. “You need to go – now. The room at the back there – the girl needs seeing immediately. There aren’t enough of us here.”

“I’ll help.” Azriel continued on. “Tell me how to help, and I’ll do it.” 

Madja had already bustled through the door to what seemed to be some sort of dining room; the bulk of the chaos appeared to lay in there, with beds shoved side-by-side on which the injured girls lay, their cries mixing in with one another’s. 

You pushed through the door Madja had directed you to, Azriel hot on your heels. 

Only one girl lay in this room – perhaps the youngest you’d seen. Her blonde curls splayed out around her as she lay face-down, her body periodically twitching and jerking as she shook.. 

She looked…tiny. Too small, even, to stand upright with a heavy pair of wings to send her toppling over. And the damage to her back…

You knew immediately there was no salvaging those small, barely-formed wings. Torn and shredded beyond repair…your only choice was to treat the damage before what remained healed awkwardly, poorly, and the poor little girl was left with painful nerve and muscle damage for life. 

You communicated all of this to Az with just a glance. No matter how much you wanted to buckle beneath the horror of the situation…to cry and cry until you were hoarse…an injured child needed you more than you needed yourself. 

“Tell me what to do.” Az pleaded quietly, not once tearing his eyes from the little girl. 

And so you did.

⧪

Her name was Thea, and she was six.

You did everything you could to ease her pain while you worked. Madja had been able to briefly drop by and help, but with so many other girls to see to, you were more or less on your own.

Aside from Azriel of course. Azriel was a lifeline. 

If you asked him to do something, he did it. If you told him you needed him to get something, he got it. And when there was nothing he could physically do while you worked your magic on fixing as much damage as you could, he sat by Thea’s side and soothed her quietly. Held her tiny hand in his own. Kept her calm enough for you to do what needed to be done. 

It felt like hours and hours of soaking your hands with blood. Stitching gashes and tears and bandaging her back. But even with all your effort and expertise, a sickening truth hung starkly in the air.

That little girl would never fly. Never know the song of the skies or the feel of the wind in her mass of blonde curls. A sick, vile coward had taken that from her. Sealed that fate forever. 

You wondered if Rhys and Cassian had killed them yet. You hoped so. 

Dawn was breaking by the time every girl had been seen to. Some would heal completely. Some had damage as severe as Thea’s. All of them would no doubt be left with the mental scars of what had been done.

An eerie silence had settled over the dormitories. With nothing more you could do for Thea than to let her rest and heal, you’d given her a sleeping draft; a chance for her small body to truly fall asleep and have some relief from the pain. Only when you were sure she was sleeping deeply on her front did you set about helping the other healers clean up the carnage. Draining away the bloodied water and setting a fire to burn the medical waste. It was a relief to not hear the cries of pain anymore – but the heavy emptiness left in their wake wasn’t much better.

The only thing you could cling to was that no lives had been lost. All girls would live.

Azriel didn’t leave Thea’s side for a long, long while, and you didn’t push him to. You could see the haunted shadows that had gathered in his eyes, the utter rage on his face. If it helped him to be a calming presence to a little girl who had suffered such horrors, you would leave him to be exactly that. 

After a while, you had begun to think that maybe he’d fallen asleep in the chair beside Thea’s bed. You were just making your way back down the hall when he stepped out of the room, looking as exhausted and battered as you felt. He raked a hand through his hair, his wings seeming limp and tired behind him. 

“You look dead on your feet.” His voice was rough, gritty. 

That just about summed up how you felt. You knew the enormity of the situation would hit you at some point…the true weight and emotions of the horror. You pressed a hand against the wall, your head spinning. When was the last time you ate? It seemed like so long ago that you were stumbling into your bedroom with that nameless male. 

“Come on.” Azriel made a grab for you, steadying you. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m not sure I can face the flight home–”

“Neither can I.” He still lifted you into his arms, though. “I’m taking you to your mother’s cottage. You can sleep there.”

Your eyes shuttered as Az carried you. Right – somehow, you’d forgotten you were even in Windhaven. There had been no room for your own trauma while trying to save the girls from theirs. Part of you wanted to face the flight after all – to get the hell out of there. Madja and two of the other healers were holding the fort, staying behind to keep an eye on the girls; you could return to Velaris if you truly wanted to.

But maybe you needed to show some of the bravery and strength that those children had. That Thea had. 

And the Mother knew, Az looked in just as dire need of sleep as you were.

So you allowed him to carry you across the camp. Blocked out the noise and the sickening presence of the Illyrians you hated so much. They laughed and chatted around flickering fires as though a travesty hadn’t occurred mere yards from them.

You hid your face in Az’s leathers, and you didn’t argue as he carried you into your mother’s cottage.

⧪

“Here.” 

You looked up, heavy eyes fixing on the rising tendrils of steam from the mug Azriel held out to you. He placed his own down on the small coffee table and joined you on the settee. He seemed far too big for it now. 

Tired as you both were, you were too wired to sleep. Too many things to think about, to work through. So the two of you sat in silence with your own thoughts, only the crackle of the fire accompanying you. 

Your eyes roved around the tiny open-plan space. It was strange…being back there. Like stepping into a past life. Walking in the steps of a ghost. Your mother had been dead a long time, now, and yet her presence was still very felt there. If you closed your eyes, you could swear you still smelt the bread she would bake, still hear the songs she would hum to you until you fell asleep. 

You glanced at the table, a fond, muted smile tugging at your lips. That Gods-damn table – the same one your younger self used to sit across from Azriel at, gazing at him whilst Cassian teased you and Rhys tested you on what things you’d learned that day. Cas had once coaxed you into carving a crude word into the wood until your mother had noticed and sent you to bed early.

Far, far simpler times. Far, far out of reach. 

Were you any bit the person you’d expected your younger self to grow up into? 

No. You weren’t.

“Talk to me…” 

You jumped, even though Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper. You turned to face him, taking a long sip of the tea he’d made you. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You saved that little girl’s life tonight.” 

Your gaze dipped. “Not her wings, though.” You murmured. “I couldn’t save her wings.” 

A fact you knew would haunt you forever, even if nothing could have been done about it. You closed your eyes, savouring the feel of the steam rising from the cup and fanning your face. Until the cup was taken from your hands.

Az placed it down on the coffee table, beside his. He scooted closer to you, angling his body towards you. You watched, your heart fluttering slightly as he cupped your face in his hands. Rested his forehead against yours.

It was…close. Intimate. The closest you’d been since the kiss in your bedroom. And you wanted nothing more than to lean into it, to not let go of his touch. 

But you behaved yourself. Didn’t move a muscle as his fingers stroked your cheeks, his breath brushing your lips. 

“She will be okay,” He murmured, “Because of you.”

“How can she possibly be okay, Az? What they did–”

“Was barbaric. Evil. But she will be alright. Just like you’re alright, despite all of the horrid things you suffered here.”

You barked a curt, humourless laugh, pushing out of his hold. “I’m hardly alright.”

Az said nothing. You knew he was staring at you, trying to read you. But you needed to move your restless legs, to shout or scream or just do something. To finally get rid of the thoughts that had hammered you constantly for the past three weeks. Maybe longer. You stood up, pacing the floor before him. 

“Y/N—”

“I,” You snapped, “am a mess, Azriel. A stupid, reckless mess.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I make one bad choice after another. I run away from my problems rather than face them. I act without thinking about who I might hurt, or what shame I might bring down upon everyone—”

“Bullshit.” Azriel spat. “What Rhys said to you was utter bullshit. You have to know that.”

But you didn’t know it. You weren’t even listening. As if the events of the last few weeks had just begun to creep up on you, the horrors you’d just faced weighing heavily on you, a laugh bubbled from your lips in near-hysteria. 

“Do you know the worst thing about it?” You spun on your feet, laughing again as your eyes met Az’s. “I think I do all of those things because I’m scared of who I am without them. I’m so scared of being that nobody my father said I was, that I would rather be a complete fuck-up than nothing at all.”

Azriel’s eyes were dangerous as he stood, his jaw visibly clenching. “Stop it.” 

“Look at all the shit that has happened since I came back. The trouble with Rhys and Lucien and Elain and you. Especially you.” You were pacing again, unaware of him moving closer. “I shouldn’t have come back. I should have stayed away.”

“Don’t,” Azriel snapped, “you fucking dare.”

“You—“

“I was fucking miserable while you were away. All those Gods-damned years, waking every day and wondering if that would be the day you turned back up on the doorstep. All the Starfalls and Solstices that you weren’t there to keep me sane amid all the chaos. All that time wondering if you were safe, if you were happy — I even kept the fucking note from the last Solstice gift you gave me, just so I had some part of you with me.” Finally, he inhaled a slow, deep breath; an attempt to quell his temper.. “So don’t ever say you should have stayed away, when you leaving destroyed me in the first fucking place.”

You’d gone cold. 

So uncomfortably cold. And still. Rigid.

What exactly he was saying, insinuating — you weren’t sure. But you were stunned by the sudden urge to cry as you stared at him.

“…Then why?” You whispered, furiously blinking away tears. “Why tell me to keep my distance from you?”

You hated how small you sounded and felt. But with how much you were trembling, trying to win a useless fight against your tears, there was no strength to muster. Nothing you could do. 

Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “Because I’m trying to do right by everyone. But I’m not sure I can.”

No, he couldn’t — you knew that. There was no possible way to please everyone…and you wouldn’t ever let him break his back trying to do so. But maybe…maybe you were being unfair. Maybe you’d asked too much of him in the first place. 

Maybe you could…could settle. The thought alone made you wince, but surely you’d grow used to it—

“I don’t expect anything of you, Az.” You said quietly. “Just…having you in my life is enough. I don’t want to keep my distance from you.”

Those deep, stunning eyes of his opened. Fixed on you. There were a thousand indiscernible thoughts written on his face. So many things you wanted to ask about, delve into. But maybe you needed to learn not to do so.

Maybe some things were just…better left alone. Your feelings in particular.

“I don’t want to keep my distance from you, either.” Az said. 

You inhaled a slow, deep breath. “So don’t. We can be…friends. Right?”

“…Right.” He studied your face. “Friends.”

You nodded, because that was all you could do. And even though you wanted to break, to cry until you could cry no more, you squared your shoulders and brushed past Azriel.

“I’m going to bed.” You told him softly. “Goodnight.”

Az nodded stiffly. “Goodnight.”

You climbed the narrow, creaking staircase, your heart heavy in your chest. Walking away from him felt so, so wrong, but it was time for you to have some semblance of control. Of restraint. 

But still – you couldn’t help wondering what may have been left unsaid.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[youvebeenjegulused]

Endgame Jegulus Head Canons

They kept it a secret, at first.

They get together in James's fifth year, and Regulus's fourth.

James calls Regulus not only Reggie, but baby just to piss him off.

Regulus gets the mark the summer before his sixth year.

Whenever Sirius and Regulus would fight in the hallways, James would never look Regulus in the eyes, he was always too afraid that he would let something loose.

The first time they exchanged 'I love you's' was a few days after James found out Regulus had been forced to take the dark mark. He kissed his arm and whispered sweet nothings to him.

After summer and winter breaks, Regulus would close himself off for a little while after. It hurt James at first, until he knew why.

After James became head boy, he and Regulus would sleep in his room, instead of various meet-up spots.

The rest of the mauraders found out in James's seventh year. Sirius had screamed at him, how could James do that to him? Remus and Peter had been upset as well, Remus albeit more because of his boyfriend.

Sirius didn't talk to him, or Regulus for two weeks after he found out. Eventually, he and James sat down and he threatened to kill him if he ever hurt his little brother.

James stopped liking Lily in his fourth year, after he finally gave up on her. Although, they did become close friends, but nothing more.

For their seventh year prank finale, James and Sirius hung up pride flags around the school, and Sirius kissed Remus in the great hall during breakfast.

On the day of James's graduation, he proposes to Regulus. Of course, Reg says yes.

James comes out to his parents that same day.

They have to keep their relationship secret, because of the war.

Regulus becomes a spy for the order.

They find out Peter is a traitor, and sadly, they have to kill him.

Their wedding is absolutely beautiful. Wolfstar, Dorlene, Lily and Minerva Mcgonagall are the only guests. It takes place in a field full of wild flowers and blue skies. It's the first time James sees Regulus cry.

Soon later though, James sees him cry for the second time, when he feels the kicking coming from James's stomach.

James decides he's never felt real fear before when he watches his husband almost drown.

He saves him, of course. But not all of him. His left arm and peaceful sleep will forever be gone.

They decide to name him Harry James Potter. He has messy brown hair, big grey eyes and skin like a doll.

Uncle Padfoot really loves Harry, he does. Just not when he's six months old and breaks Uncle Moony's favorite mug.

Voldemort still (somehow) finds them. It's too bad that Lily is visiting when he is.

James and Regulus attend her funeral with heavy hearts. Harry's forehead adorns a lightning bolt scar.

Raising Harry with one arm is quite the task, Regulus often ponders.

Sirius, Remus, Regulus and James have a bet on Harry's Hogwarts house.

James and Sirius owe Regulus five galleons each when Harry's letter comes back with the words Slytherin written within it.

They owe him five again, when Harry sends another letter talking all about Draco Malfoy, and how annoying his blonde hair is when it glows in the sunlight.

That's why their not surprised in fourth year, during the second task when Harry drags Draco out of the water with him.

Regulus has never willing killed anyone. But when Sirius dies, so does the nearest death eater in sight. He doesn't bother looking at their face.

James and Regulus hold their son as he cries about his boyfriend, who was forced to get the mark. Just like Regulus.

Together, they worry about Harry, Neville and Luna, who are alive, somewhere out in the world, trying to destroy horcruxes.

On nights where Regulus wakes up screaming about wet hands and dead sons, James holds him close, like he used to when they were teenagers.

James cries twice that day. Once, when he sees Harry after he escaped Malfoy Manor. The second time when he sees Luna. Her eyes are dull, and she has blood dripping from her mouth.

Regulus helps Harry bury Dobby.

Harry meets Teddy Lupin, a surprise baby that came from a one night hook up between Remus and Tonks. Remus had thrown up afterwards, and decided Tonks was better as a friend, without knowing of his son.

Regulus holds his wand to Voldemorts face when he brings out Harry's dead body. James is right next to him.

With the help of Neville, Regulus kills Nagini.

James almost starts sobbing when he sees his Harry alive and breathing, throwing spells with his wand.

Regulus Potter realises how much he loves his family when he sees his son staring down at the dead, mortal body of the dark lord.

Draco and Harry take in Teddy as their own, which is a relief to Andromeda.

At Harry's wedding, James gets flashbacks of Regulus walking down the isle as Draco does. They'd chosen the same spot as he and Regulus. It's bittersweet, with the two empty chairs for Sirius and Remus.

Regulus and James go to their first pride parade. Regulus magiks rainbows onto their cheeks, and together they yell and kiss and cheer.

James Sirius Potter is a beautiful baby.

They are old now, so very old. They have a small house that overlooks a sunny clearing in the woods. They have rocking chairs that they sit in and drink tea. They tell stories of love and pranks to their four grandchildren.

James Sirius, Al, Scor and Lily remind James of the mauraders. Regulus shakes his head in exasperation, that's full of grey curls.

When James dies, Regulus forgets how to feel again.

Slowly, things brighten, but Regulus will always remember. His everything, his happiness, his partner for infinity.

So it's not unsurprising when Regulus slips away from the world on a warm summer day, a few years after James. His hand is held by a crying Harry, Teddy behind him.

They're buried together, under a willow tree. The whole family visits, at first. But slowly they all trickle away, until it's only Harry and Scorpius who still come by.

James and Regulus loved each other, beyond words and everything else in the entire world. Harry vows to remember that.

[saucyminxbrainspill]

Broken Things - Chapter 2

A/N: This fic mingles both film and book canon, especially in the area of TIME (i.e. how long it takes to actually travel to & through certain regions during the dwarves’ Quest for Erebor). I vastly prefer the travel timeline in the books to the super-condensed “there’s always someone chasing us” version in the films.

Fandom: The Hobbit (book and films)

Setting: first part of the Quest for Erebor – The Lone Lands (somewhere between Bree and the Trollshaws)

Characters: Fili x fem!reader, Balin, Gandalf, Bilbo, Thorin, Kili, The Company

Chapter Warnings: mentions of grief, naked dwarf ogling, allusion to past trauma

RATING: PG-13 – angst, implied nudity

Word Count: 2835

Summary: Fili thinks he’s found his One in Y/N, a human linguist and healer accompanying Thorin’s Company on the Quest for Erebor. All he wants to do is find a way to confess his feelings and court her properly. But unbeknownst to him, Y/N carries hidden trauma from her past. Can Fili help her overcome her demons and win her heart?

Barely half a day’s ride beyond the village saw the end of tilled fields and farmsteads, and the beginning of woods and wild country. Y/N avoided Fili altogether, riding at the head of the column with Gandalf and Thorin, or in the rear with Bilbo and Bombur, but always several pony lengths removed from the blonde prince and his brother. At first the younger prince tried to tease the elder, wondering loudly and often – much to Fili’s chagrin - what might have happened to alienate their new friend: that is, until he noticed Fili’s sullen glare whenever he spoke her name. Soon, Kili’s chatter succumbed to his brother’s brooding silence, until finally there was no conversation between the princes at all. Eventually, Kili moved up the column in search of more amicable company.

This continued for the better part of a fortnight, while the Company rode on under fair May skies. Apart from the awkwardness between Y/N and Fili (a known fact that everyone tiptoed delicately around at all costs), it was a merry time. The dwarves told stories and jokes as the ponies ambled along, often at the expense of one or more of their fellows. And most evenings after supper had come and gone, they sat around the campfire and sang. Y/N loved these nights best.

Many of the lyrics featured bawdy or comic scenarios, drawing gales of laughter from the whole group. But sometimes late at night, when the smoke from their spent pipes hung over their heads like wisps of forgotten dreams, the melodies turned somber. When the singing shifted into Khuzdul, Y/N sat entranced. Although she understood only a word or two of the secret language, she felt the weight of the music. The deep hum of dwarven voices stirred something within her: age old sorrow and a loss so deep she could feel the ache in her bones.

“What does it mean?” she asked Balin one night after the conclusion of a particularly mournful dirge. He sighed heavily and gazed up at the sky for a long moment before answering.

“It is the Song of Burning: an elegy for the souls lost at the Battle of Azanulbizar. So many of our kin fell before the gates of Khazad-Dum that day. Those who lived were not enough to bury the dead. So we gathered the fallen onto a pyre and burned them, and the smoke of it darkened the sky for three days and nights.” He looked again at the dying fire, and Y/N saw the memory of other flames reflected in his gaze. His next words were so low, she almost missed them. “My father was a burned dwarf; as was Thorin’s younger brother, Frerin. Nearly all dwarrow suffer from that loss. It is likely we will never recover from it.”

Long moments passed in heavy silence as both stared into the embers. Finally Y/N dared to ask the question that had begun to burn her heart. “I would like to learn to understand it. Khuzdul, I mean. I have spent my whole life learning languages, but I know almost nothing of your speech or your people. Could you teach me?”

Balin looked up at her and frowned, studying her face intently. Y/N held her breath.

“We dwarrow guard our ancient tongue jealously and rarely teach it to outsiders, lass. This is no small thing you ask.”

Y/N had expected this, knowing how closely dwarves kept their secrets. She was prepared. She turned a neutral gaze on Balin then spoke the words she had rehearsed. “Among my people, dwarves are regarded as suspicious at best and vagabonds at worst. The elders of my village taught us that yours is a vulgar race, best suited to hard labor and lacking all gentility. I have been watching you all very closely these past few weeks on the road” - Well, one of you more than the others! - “and whether you wanted me to or not I have learned a thing or two about dwarrow.”

She leaned heavily on the last word, then paused to see what effect her speech had had on her audience. Balin levelled a cool gaze at her from beneath his snowy brows, his former vulnerability transformed into a stony mask.  She picked up a stick and began to poke at the fire, avoiding his eyes as she continued.

“Most of my family believe that dwarves are greedy, mean, and incapable of honest dealings. And while you certainly presented yourselves well when we met back in the Shire, these past weeks spent on the road together have revealed your true character.” Pause for effect!

She couldn’t keep the straight face any longer. Looking back up at Balin, she broke into a grin. “My family are all fools. It’s one of the reasons I chose to become a scholar. Traveling in your company for the past month, I have found Durin’s Folk to be kind, honest, and loyal to a fault.” She paused for a breath, decided not to mention the particular Durin who had cemented this impression on her, and then continued. “Despite the coarseness of your manners and your slightly off-color humor, you have treated me with greater respect than my own kin. You have shown honor of the highest quality. And hearing your stories and songs has left me no doubt as to the richness of your culture. Yours is a venerable, noble heritage unrivaled by anything my village elders can boast. My people know nothing. And for my own part, I could never condone the views of such small-minded clodpolls.”

She put on her best pleading face and launched into the finale. “Please, Balin: teach me your language, your history, your stories and songs. I want to tell the world how wrong they are about you. I have become very fond of you all, you know.” Her oration concluded, Y/N sat back and waited.

Balin remained so still that for a moment she wondered if she had gone too far with the insults. Then a smirk appeared on his face and he shook his head, chuckling. “You are a force to be reckoned with, lass. It has been long since I have had to match wits with the likes of you. ‘Venerable’, eh?” He chuckled again, more warmly.

“Aye. I cannot see what harm it could do. I’ll take it up with Thorin.” Then the old dwarf stood, bid her goodnight, and lumbered off in the direction of his bedroll, leaving her to begin the first watch in the company of her own thoughts.

Y/N couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Perhaps Gandalf had been right. Perhaps here, among these fierce, proud, stubborn, fascinating dwarves, she could trust and be trusted. And with trust, maybe friendship would follow. Maybe even . . .

Ghosts of the past flitted about the edges of her thoughts and she shoved them away, pivoting her focus with a speed born of long practice. She gave the fire a few good pokes, stirring it to life and adding more wood. As the flames licked greedily at the fresh log, she raised her head to scan the camp. Most of the Company had taken to their blankets for the night. But just at the edge of the firelight, Y/N caught the gleam of eyes watching her. She stiffened reflexively. Fili’s golden mane shone in the glow of the renewed blaze, even as his eyes snapped shut. She had caught him staring outright this time. She sighed heavily and tried to relax, but the whispers at the edge of her mind would not fully disperse.

Damn the past! Even without it, she had enough to worry about in the present.  

The following day dawned unseasonably hot, and by mid-morning the singing and laughing gave way to sweating and grumbling. Even Gandalf grew sullen (“Well,” said Bilbo testily, “more sullen than usual at any rate!”). By late afternoon, everyone’s neck was sunburned, everyone’s thighs chafed, and everyone’s tempers worn thin. After toiling up a particularly long and dusty ascent, Gloin, riding at the front with Gandalf, gave a shout. The party drew up at the crest of the hill and gazed down upon a welcome sight. A small green valley fell away below them, leafy tree tops stretching away down the slope and sunlight glinting on water at the bottom. The dwarves cheered, and raced down the rocky incline into the shade of the wood, Y/N and Bilbo – whose riding skills were a bit less accomplished - following somewhat slower behind under the watchful eyes of Gandalf and Thorin. By the time the stragglers caught up with the rest of the group, the ponies had been tied up in a circle and already half-unladen, and a campsite was quickly unfolding on the verge of a small, clear lake.

“I guess we make camp here tonight” Thorin rumbled dryly, but Y/N caught the hint of a smile that played upon his lips as he watched his nephews shedding their clothes and weapons in a mad dash to the water. Y/N smiled too. A swim sounded like the best thing in the world at that moment! But – she glanced up just in time to see Kili dive headfirst off an enormous boulder, his chiseled body cleaving the surface with a splash – she would have to wait her turn. While nobody who knew her could call Y/N a prude, the dwarves had shown a deep concern for her modesty and “reputation”, and out of respect and affection she refrained from challenging their peculiar sensibilities.

“I’ll go help Bombur get out the cooking gear” she sighed, angling her pony towards the center of the campsite. But it wasn’t long before Bombur too, in an uncharacteristic display of rowdiness, shed his layers and went roaring off the top of the rock himself, swamping his companions with a mighty wave. Y/N laughed heartily and watched the company members for a moment as they wrestled and splashed; especially the blonde prince as he lifted his brother bodily and threw him off the rock down upon the surface of the water with a resounding ‘SMACK!’ She winced in solidarity, then looked away, smirking to herself as she built up the fire. Just because she had to wait her turn didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the view!

Suddenly a shadow loomed over her. “My dear Y/N!” Gandalf’s voice interrupted her colorful thoughts.

“Hmm?” She raised her eyebrows and glanced up at him with an innocent smile. “Yes, my dear Gandalf?”

The wizard’s eyes glittered beneath his hat. “Why don’t you and Bilbo put your plant lore to good use and see if you can’t find something to add to our pot. Hmm?” He arched one tremendous eyebrow knowingly at her.

Y/N grinned wickedly. “Spoilsport!” she whispered loudly, then rose off her haunches and called to the hobbit, “Bilbo dear, Gandalf wants some vegetables for his stew. Would you care to accompany me?” Bilbo, looking uncomfortably hot and a little flustered himself (while he generally didn’t mind bathing amidst the dwarves, the sort of rough play currently churning up the lake made him more than a little anxious) hurried after her down the shore in search of wild greens and edible flora.

When they returned sometime later, arms full of wood sorrel, watercress, and mushrooms (Bilbo was especially proud of the large number of black morels he had found) the dwarves had finished their swim and set up a well-ordered camp. Y/N and Bilbo’s vegetables, combined with a quantity of dried meat, salt, and barley, promised a hearty supper, and everyone’s spirits felt lighter for it. Everyone, that is, except Y/N and Bilbo, whose sweat-damp clothes and burning skin now begged for a dip in the lake. The moment Bombur set the cauldron over the fire, Bilbo scurried off towards the water, now blessedly calm and free of dwarven gladiators. Trying not to look too eager, Y/N gathered her pack and set off down the shoreline away from the others, her mind already adrift on the crystal waters.

“Don’t wander too far, or we won’t be able to hear you and come rescue you if you drown!” Kili taunted her retreating form.

Without turning or breaking stride, she yelled back, “I’m not the one who needs to worry about drowning! Your back flip was a disgrace!” Kili frowned. “That dive was excellent! Where does she get off, telling me that-” Then his brain caught up with her words, and he flushed crimson and began inspecting his bow with single minded focus, pretending to ignore the jeers and whistles of the Company. Fili, however, found their exchange less than amusing. The words “drown” and “rescue” tugged at his heart, and he turned to Thorin where he sat on a log with Gandalf blowing smoke rings.

“Shouldn’t someone go with her?” he asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone of voice.  “I mean, at least within earshot?” Thorin raised a questioning eyebrow at his nephew, while Gandalf tried – and mostly failed - to disguise a chuckle as a cough.

“I think,”, Thorin began carefully, “that Y/N is perfectly capable of handling herself in broad daylight, sister-son.” It was true. The sun had lowered towards the tree line, but nowhere near set. Fili could hear Bofur snickering somewhere behind him, and his stinging pride urged him to take a swing at the cheeky Broadbeam. Instead, he nodded curtly to his uncle, who returned the gesture graciously, then went to sort out his bedroll.

Y/N floated on her back, letting her mind drift along with her body in the still waters of a secluded cove. The lake did not disappoint, embracing her chaffed and sunburned skin with waves of cool relief. She knew as soon as the sun dipped behind the trees the temperature would drop uncomfortably, but until that moment she planned to enjoy her swim to the fullest. She gazed up at the cerulean sky, pondering nothing in particular, except maybe how the cloudless blue expanse reminded her of Fili’s eyes . . . She blinked. Then she sighed. Damn it, Y/N! This will not do!

In the days since the market, she had kept her distance from the dwarven prince, unnerved by the intensity of . . . whatever had passed between them. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to piece together how she felt. He was definitely handsome, with his leonine locks, breathtaking eyes, and adorable dimples, and he moved with purpose and certainty: attractive qualities in and of themselves. But she knew from both education and experience that beautiful forms often hide beastly souls. Her thoughts darkened, and she shoved the cloud away with a shiver that had nothing to do with the light evening breeze.

She closed her eyes.

Who are you, Fili? . . .

Not the past. It is dead, buried. It cannot hold me. This is the present. Now. You are here, now.

So, who are you? You are . . .

He was everything she had told Balin last night, and more. Laughter without cruelty. Bravery without bravado. Gracious. Competent. Strong of heart. You love your brother and uncle; will suffer hardship and danger for them. You exude inner light. So different from . . . Her mind reached the edge of an abyss she did not wish to gaze upon, and in retaliation all thoughts stopped. For a handful of heartbeats, she was completely blank. Then she inhaled deeply and repeated the words:

The sins of others do not define me.

The sins of others do not define YOU. The past is dead, buried. It cannot hold me. This is the present. Now. You are here now.

I am here now.

Now, not Then.

Now, not Later.

Now.

But who was he to her now? She had yet to decide. Ever since that unsettling day, despite her intense scrutiny, her instincts remained quiet. She did not sense danger from him, not even a glimmer of ill intent: no prickle at the back of her neck, no knots in her stomach, no urge to flee. On the contrary, she felt an inexplicable desire to get closer to him, to be seen by him. She even contemplated risking the unthinkable: letting her guard down.  

And then there was that whisper of something more: that something in his eyes which had lanced her heart and left her reeling, breathless and astonished.

When he looked at her . . . Elbereth preserve me, those eyes! . . .

Y/N’s heart sped up, and she felt a warmth under her skin that had nothing to do with sunburn or saddle sores. An upwelling of emotions cascaded over her, sweeping away her chronic fear. She remembered how her heart raced when he held her gaze; how her entire body tingled at his touch; how his eyes poured a torrent of questions and feelings into her, unlocking a corresponding flood in her own heart.

She snorted, remembering Kili’s recent jest.

“Who’s going to save you if you drown?” she murmured to the sky.

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