#hehe pretty dangerous women with swords

[jingabitch]

To Love an Empress

SUMMARY: Despite the acrimonious beginning to your relationship, Yoongi is drawn to you.

PAIRING: emperor!yoongi x empress!reader

RATING: E

WARNINGS: smut | unprotected sex (they’re husband and wife and also this is a historical au so there are no condoms but be safe okay) | references to war | yoongi’s scar is discussed | yoongi kills a man (mentioned but not explicit) | secret admirer stuff

WORD COUNT: 9.8k

A/N: My final submission for the BTS Ghostie bingo, yay! This one fills the secret admirer tile. This fic is kind of based on Henry VII and Elizabeth of York’s early relationship, and inspired by The White Princess, so if some of the dialogue and scenes are similar, that’s why. 

Shoutout to my lovely betas @knjkitten and @yoongs-jeontae for helping me beta this! Banner by @jkeuphoriadreamland​ 💕 i’ve never had a banner on a fic before this is fun hehe

Min Yoongi was a hard man, and he knew it. He’d won his throne on the battlefield, running his sword through the old king and crowning himself right there on the blood-stained grass.

You knew it too, could never forget it when you looked at your husband. The scar on his face from an injury he’d sustained during the decisive battle for his crown; the memory of how coldly he’d treated you at the beginning; the baby growing inside you as a result of Yoongi’s insistence that you demonstrate your ability to provide him with heirs before he would marry you. As if he’d had a choice, when your bloodline was the cornerstone of his legitimacy.

After all the angry words and hostility between the two of you, he knew there was no chance you would forgive him. And yet, a part of him craved it. He saw the kindness you lavished on your ladies-in-waiting, the servants, and all the children running around the palace who were sons and daughters of the nobles and the army of servants working here. Was it so wrong of him to want just a little of that for himself? You were his wife, after all.

Yoongi was a warrior. He’d trained all his life to take control of the kingdom. War was all he knew.

Which made him, unfortunately, woefully inept when it came to wooing a lady, especially one so resistant to him. He’d relied on his looks before, but now that he had the scar on his face, it seemed that even that tool was no longer at his disposal. God knows you hated it.

With no one else to turn to, he asked his eunuch what he should do. At first, the portly man just blinked at him, confused. “She’s your wife, you don’t have to persuade her to warm your bed,” he pointed out.

Yoongi grimaced. “I know that,” he grumbled. “I want her to like me.”

Sambo snorted. “Should have thought about that before you made her ‘prove her fertility’ to you.”

Sulking, Yoongi got up and stormed away from his eunuch. Obviously, he knew that, and he wished that no one else did. It wasn’t like him to force a lady like that, but tensions had been running high at the time and he hadn’t trusted a woman from the house of L/n. You must have run to your lady-in-waiting and cried to her when it was over, because Sambo had gotten quite the shelling from her the next day.

Sambo, who’d quickly grown used to the antics of his master, just hurried along beside Yoongi. “Just give her something pretty,” he advised. “Women like that.”

Yoongi stopped short. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “That’s a great idea,” he enthused. “You’re useful for once, Sambo,” he praised his eunuch.

Sambo rolled his eyes to hide his pleased smile. “You’d think a grown man would know something like that,” he jibed. “Taking love advice from someone who can’t even perform must be a new low for you.”

“Whatever.” Yoongi waved off the insult. “I’ll get her a nice hairpin,” he decided. “But don’t tell her it’s from me.” He didn’t want you throwing it out in disgust.

“She’s obviously going to know,” Sambo pointed out. “There is no man in Joseon suicidal enough to woo the empress. That’s treason.”

Frowning, Yoongi snapped, “Just do it,” before stalking back into his room with a huff and shutting the door in Sambo’s face. The eunuch really didn’t need to rain on his parade like that, even if he was probably right. Hopefully you wouldn’t immediately come to the conclusion that it was him. It wasn’t just that he was afraid you’d throw out a gift from him—he wanted to make you smile. Not because you were bound to him and might as well exhibit some fondness towards your husband, but because he was really, truly capable of making you happy.

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Pregnancy had been difficult for you so far. Without your mother around, you were left to go through it by yourself. At least Ling, your personal servant-turned-lady-in-waiting, was here with you. You’d been together since you were a child and she was a young teen, and she was like a sister to you.

The morning sickness was starting to fade, thankfully, but you still got nauseous sometimes, so Ling suggested that you have your breakfast in the courtyard to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine while the cleaners dusted and polished your quarters.

When you finally got back to your room after being bullied by Ling into taking a little walk – exercise was good for the baby, she insisted – there was a hairpin lying on your table, next to the novel you’d been reading. Curiously, you knelt down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” you asked Ling, who was trailing a few steps behind you.

“It’s a hairpin, milady,” she responded somewhat cluelessly.

“Yes,” you said patiently, “but why is it here? I’ve never seen this before.” Looking more closely at it, you turned it over a few times in your hand. It truly was pretty, a delicate gold phoenix carved into the end of the pin, decorated with pink flowers and milky jade balls around the base of the phoenix.

Sitting down on the other side of the table, Ling pulled your hand holding the pin closer to her so she could examine it too. “I don’t know, but it’s so pretty,” she sighed. “Maybe you have a secret admirer,” she giggled.

“Yes, the pregnant empress has a secret admirer,” you said drolly. Everything about your existence, from the gilded cage you were trapped in, to your marriage to the most powerful man in Joseon, to the heir you were carrying in you, screamed that you were taken, owned by a man. And not just any man, of course, but the one whose wife was strictly, on pain of death, off-limits.

“Well, you never know,” Ling said lightly. “Just take it for what it is,” she advised. “Someone wants to make you happy!”

“All right,” you accepted skeptically, but you couldn’t quite stop the smile from stealing across your face. After living as a political pawn for so many years because of your family and giving up everything for the man who’d killed your uncle, it did feel nice to think that there was someone out there who liked you for you.

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You weren’t stupid, of course. You had considered that it was your husband who’d had the pin sent to you. It made sense, after all – he was the only man in the whole of Joseon who could do something like that. It didn’t take long for you to disabuse yourself of that notion, however. Yoongi hated you, considered you the snake in his midst. Taking a L/n bride after defeating the House of L/n was the last thing he’d wanted to do, and he’d made that abundantly clear when you met. Hell, even before that, when he’d sent a platoon to your residence in the countryside to retrieve you.

Your first interaction with the new emperor had gone woefully poorly, with cruel words said on both sides.

As angry and resentful as you were about being claimed as his wife, you weren’t in any mood to be supplicant to the new emperor. When they brought you to meet him, in an admittedly charming gazebo, you knelt without bowing or greeting him, refusing to even look straight at him.

“Are you just going to sulk, then?” he drawled, and you barely resisted the urge to strangle him with your bare hands.

“We’ve done nothing right; surely you aren’t insisting that we follow tradition now?” you replied, your light tone doing little to hide your displeasure. This was all wrong, you knew. Despite Ling hovering just out of earshot keeping a watchful eye on things, you knew that your reputation was at stake simply from meeting the emperor alone before you were married.

It was unusual for you to enter the palace knowing that you were to be the empress, too. Usually the empress dowager chose her son’s bride, based on a series of tests that demonstrated her suitability for the throne. But, you knew, you were already the best candidate, purely based on your bloodlines.

Yoongi leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Of course not,” he said, and his low, dangerous voice caused your breath to catch as you jerked your head forward to look at him properly for the first time. You couldn’t help but gasp at the long scab slicing through his eye. Catching you staring at it, he smiled bitterly.

“Are you afraid of your fiancé?” he asked.

“Of course not,” you hissed. “Just horrified that I have to lie with a disfigured monster.”

You remembered the way he’d jerked back, as if scalded. Okay, so you weren’t blameless in the current state of affairs you found yourself in, this hateful sham of a marriage that neither of you enjoyed. Still, given the acrimonious relationship you had with your husband, it seemed less than likely that he was your secret admirer.

“Poor, pitiful L/n Y/n,” he responded coldly. “Why don’t we get it over with, then?”

“What?!” you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth.

He smiled at you coldly. “I will not repeat the mistakes of previous emperors,” he informed you, and your lips pursed in displeasure, recognizing his comment for the jibe that it was – most of the previous emperors in the history of the kingdom had been your ancestors. “Having no legitimate heir is a recipe for disaster.”

Despite your best attempts to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your reaction, you couldn’t hold back the blanch. Smirking in satisfaction at having gotten back at you for the cruel insult, he continued, “We will be wed only when you are pregnant.”

Really, after all was said and done, it was no wonder that you and your husband despised each other.

Still, maybe there was a part of you that wished the pin had come from him. It wasn’t that you were in love with Yoongi or something insipid like that, it was just… you were kind of lonely here in the palace, with hardly anyone you knew around. The only person you’d been allowed to bring with you was Ling, because she’d been your servant for so long.

It would be nice to feel, just once more in your life, like you had a friend around you.

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As your pregnancy progressed, you grew increasingly miserable and annoyed, and your secret admirer stepped up his efforts to cheer you up. From pretty flowers on your pillow to new books when you finished your existing ones, even pretty ribbons and once, a bag of a rare tea that was supposed to alleviate morning sickness, this mysterious individual was showing you more care than your own husband.

You rarely saw Yoongi these days, since he was usually busy in the throne hall, setting the country back to rights. Being a woman, you never got to attend the morning meetings and reading of the petitions, but from what you heard, Yoongi wasn’t the most competent politician. It frustrated you to no end – you were the daughter and niece of the past two emperors, had grown up learning about politics, history and economics, and yet your role was basically being a baby incubator while your inexperienced husband was led down all sorts of rabbit holes as the ministers tried to take advantage of the situation to fatten their own coffers.

The last straw came when you heard of a proposed tax increase for the peasants, purportedly to shore up the kingdom’s defenses. You knew Minister Su, who was in charge of defense, was greedy and corrupt, but very eloquent and had many supporters among the cabinet. Overcoming your own reluctance to speak to your husband directly, you stormed into his private quarters one evening, while he was relaxing with a drink.

“Get out,” you ordered his eunuch, who was kneeling by his side.

Sambo looked over at Yoongi, who nodded at him. Once the doors slid shut behind the eunuch, you knelt in front of your husband. Since you were about six months pregnant now, it was difficult for you to maneuver, but you managed. “I need to talk to you,” you told him.

“I gathered that,” he said dryly. “Could this not wait for a more appropriate audience?”

“No,” you rejected him flatly. “I heard that you’re considering a new tax on the peasants.”

“That’s none of your business.” He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You should reject the tax proposal, Your Grace,” you said quietly.

“I said, that’s none of your business,” he thundered, slamming his fist down on the table.

You winced, but continued, undeterred. “Minister Su does not have the best interests of the kingdom in mind, Your Grace. There was a bad harvest this year, and the people will not stand for a tax now, especially when they are already so tired of conflict.”

It seemed that bringing up the civil war that had just been fought between Yoongi and your uncle was a bad idea, as he looked even more furious. He sucked in a deep breath to yell at you, but you quickly continued, cutting him off before he could start.

“Your reign is still new, Your Grace, and the people are still unsure about you. Now is the time for generosity, so that they learn to love you.”

“Why does a L/n empress care about whether the people love me? You and your family hate me; you fought a war against me,” he scoffed, leaning back on his hands in a casual pose to show just how little he cared.

Bristling indignantly, you bit back, “You raised an army against my family! You are the usurper! Make no mistake of it, sir, I advise you not because of any attachment to you, but because I care about this kingdom.”

At that, some of the fire left him. “Everyone claims to care about the kingdom, but all they really care about is themselves. Do you think I don’t know that my ministers are watching me, waiting to take advantage? That people are plotting against me as we speak?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s what it means to be the emperor. My father had the same thing, as did my uncle – from you.” Maybe goading him wasn’t the best thing to do right now, but you were pregnant, uncomfortable and irritated.

“Then how do I know that I can trust you?” he retorted, his frustration with the current situation bleeding through his voice.

You were going to murder this man, you swore. He wouldn’t need to wait for any plot coming from outside the palace walls. How could someone be capable enough to enact a coup against the emperor, and yet so frustratingly dim when it came to politics?

“Because my wagon is tied to yours, you idiot. I am your empress now before I am a L/n woman, and this child I carry inside me is a Min child. Do you think that if your rule fails, I can just go home, and all will be well for me? I will be executed together with you, and so will our child.”

That seemed to shut him up. “I’ll think about it,” he finally allowed grudgingly.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing with your forehead pressed to the back of your palms over the floor.

After you’d left, Yoongi thought about how that was the first time you’d bowed to him. It seemed there was much he didn’t know about his wife.

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The next afternoon, you heard from Ling that the tax on the peasants had been rejected, and a jeweled comb was delivered to your room. This particular gift came directly from Sambo, so you knew that it was from Yoongi, and you accepted it for the apology that it was.

Two weeks later, proof of Minister Su’s corruption and embezzlement came to light, and he was sent into exile. You might have felt slightly smug about it, since you’d hated Minister Su ever since your own father was the emperor, but mostly you felt a little bad for Yoongi, having to deal with something like that so soon after coming to power.

That same night, Yoongi invited you to have dinner with him. Well, it was more like an order, because you weren’t in any position to turn down the emperor, but Ling was excited nonetheless as she got you ready, helping you into your pretty jeogori and braiding your hair into an elaborate bun.

“I’m so happy for you,” she gushed as she stood in front of you, tying the jeogori. “This could be the start of a new relationship between the two of you!”

“You know I can’t get more pregnant, right?” you asked drolly, raising a brow. In fact, you’d pretty much expected him to leave you alone for the rest of the pregnancy and only call on you once you were recovered enough to perform your conjugal duties once more.

“Oh, hush,” she giggled. “I’m sure he wants to see how you’re doing. You are carrying his heir, after all.”

“Sure, that’s me,” you muttered. “The incubator.”

“Be nice,” she admonished. “You want him to like you, so that he’ll give you more privileges. When your son becomes emperor, then you can swan around all day like the crone.” Suffice it to say, neither of you liked your mother-in-law that much.

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m just uncomfortable all the time.” Entering your third trimester of pregnancy, you were having trouble standing around and kneeling on the ground? Impossible. You’d had a table and chair moved into your room so that you could sit comfortably, but as far as you knew, Yoongi still sat on the ground for most of the day.

Ling didn’t know about your late-night meeting with the emperor a few weeks prior, but you wondered if this dinner had something to do with that.

In Yoongi’s room, something similar was happening, as Sambo fussed over his master’s robes.

“Sambo, enough,” Yoongi sighed. “I don’t have to look nice; she’s already my wife.”

Sambo scoffed. “I said the same thing to you about sending her those gifts, but you insisted then too.”

Yoongi glared at his eunuch without saying anything, mostly because he had no argument against that. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted the man; he’d done nothing but tease him about his crush since he found out.

Thankfully, your arrival cut Sambo’s fussing short – yet another thing he had to be grateful to you for, he supposed. It stung a little that his wife apparently knew more about politics than he did, but you seemed to want to help him, so there was that.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, bowing slightly.

“Good evening,” he responded. “Please, sit,” he invited, gesturing towards the table he had brought into his room just for this. He remembered how much you’d struggled with kneeling on the ground, and then getting up, the last time you’d come to visit him, and thought that this would make it easier for you.

You’d seen the table as soon as you entered the room, of course – it was kind of hard to miss, since the room was mostly empty. Accepting his offer with a gracious smile, you sat yourself down and clasped your hands together demurely in your lap. Yoongi sat across from you and nodded at the servant standing in the corner, and that was the signal for the food to start coming in.

To be honest, you’d expected to see Yoongi’s favourite dishes being served tonight, since everything at your wedding banquet had been his favourite foods, so you were pleasantly surprised to note that it was the food you’d been repeatedly requesting due to your cravings instead.

When the servants left, closing the doors after them, Yoongi spoke. “Please eat.” He gestured at the spread, and you acquiesced, picking up your chopsticks.

“Thank you for the advice,” he started.

The food you were holding with your chopsticks fell back onto your bowl of rice as your hand went limp in shock. “Wh-what?” Of all the things he could have said, that was the one you’d been expecting the least. In all honesty, you’d expected something more like admonishment for interfering – and a lack of other punishment that would serve as tacit acknowledgement that you’d been right. It was how your father had been with your mother.

To be fair, it looked like it was costing him dearly to thank you. “You were right about the tax,” he ground out.

“Oh…” You recovered quickly and nodded, graciously accepting his thanks.

“But don’t make a habit of interfering,” he continued. Right… so there was a catch, after all.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not,” you said sarcastically. “I’m just the brainless baby incubator, after all. It’s not like I grew up here, or have any knowledge and experience of palace politics, or anything of the sort.”

“You’re a woman—” he thundered, slamming his chopsticks down on the table.

“I am your empress,” you cut him off. “You insisted on marrying me precisely because of my bloodline, so I will not be sidelined, especially when we both know you could use all the help you can get!”

“Help that I can get from my advisors,” he huffed.

“One of your ministers was literally just exiled for corruption, so I don’t know why you want to throw in your lot with them, but sure.” You rolled your eyes. “Now, if that was all, I think I can take my meal in my own quarters tonight.”

Unfortunately, your dramatic exit was foiled by how much you struggled to get out of your seat. Biting back his smile at how cute you looked with your belly, Yoongi leapt to your aid – you were, after all, still his wife and carrying his child, so it was the least he could do.

You pinned him with a glare as he got up to assist you, but were left with no choice but to accept, holding on to his proffered arm and letting him basically hoist you up. “If you need anything…” he started, looking slightly contrite.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace,” you said. “I might be ‘just a woman’ –” your tone made it clear that you were mocking him, and he had the grace to look slightly chagrined – “but I am the empress, and I am carrying the heir to Joseon, so I get everything I ask for.”

“Good, that’s good…” he looked slightly shifty now, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. He’d been acting like a bit of a dick, but to be fair, you supposed, it wasn’t like his attitude was uncommon. With Ling’s reminder ringing in your ears, you took his hand and brought it to the swell of your belly. Your child was strong and healthy, and even through the layers of your clothes Yoongi could feel the flutter of kicks.

“Wow…” he looked entranced, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your child had been conceived in hatred and anger, but you were determined that you would not raise him in that environment. No, he would know only love. You were sure of it.

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Even though the dinner hadn’t gone according to plan, it was still somewhat of a shift in your relationship with your husband. Now when your paths crossed, he smiled at you instead of just walking by stonily.

The gifts from your secret admirer continued too, which made things kind of confusing for you. On the one hand, you were trying to make this thing with your husband work, if only so that your child could grow up in a positive environment. It was difficult enough growing up in the palace, something you were keenly aware of.

And yet, the continued attention from this unknown person was starting to tug at your heartstrings. You hardly knew who it was but being shown kindness without any ulterior motive was certainly enough for you to think fondly of your secret admirer. He didn’t send gifts that often, usually once every other week or so, but each one brought a smile to your face. Sometimes it was your favourite flower, or a snack from another part of the world, or a cute trinket from the market, but all of them were equally dear to you.

The fluttering feeling that you got in your chest when you saw that he’d left you another gift was somewhat tempered by the guilt over the whole situation. Were you allowed to enjoy this attention? You looked furtively around, slightly worried that someone was going to knock the Japanese cakes out of your hand.

“You know,” Sambo said, standing next to Yoongi, who was peering at you from his hidden position behind a wall, “Some of your subjects might find it unseemly for their emperor to spend his days spying on his wife.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbled, although the words had no heat to them, given how distracted he currently was. He hoped you liked the cakes.

“If you want to spend time with her, you can just ask, you know,” Sambo pointed out. “Haven’t you two been getting along better lately?”

“She still gets annoyed at me every time,” he sighed. “I don’t want to upset her, she looks miserable enough as is.”

Sambo, watching you rub the small of your back as Ling fussed over you, had to agree. At eight months pregnant, you looked fit to pop. “Well, she’ll give birth soon, and then things will be better,” he said, patting the emperor on the back. “You really need to be more discreet, though. She can tell it’s you from a mile away.”

Yoongi looked over at Sambo and scowled. “No way,” he denied.

“Really? So there are lots of men walking around decked out in the emperor’s robes, and have blonde hair, then?”

“Fine.” Yoongi sulked. “Let’s go, then.”

“You know you have a bunch of petitions to review, right?”

“I get it.”

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To put it mildly, labour sucked. But at the end of it, you had a beautiful little boy, handed to you wrapped in a blanket. “Wow,” you marveled at your son, stroking his cheek with your thumb as you cuddled him close. Your own dear boy. Cradling him in your arms, it hardly mattered that he was a Min, that he represented the end of your house on the throne. Your son was all that mattered now.

Looking up, you saw Yoongi hovering by the entrance to the room, looking on hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome. The idea was laughable to you – he was the emperor, there was nowhere he couldn’t go. You remembered your own father striding around as if he owned the place, because he did. No matter how fond he’d been of your mother, it had always been clear in the way he acted that he knew he was the boss. At best, she was a favoured subordinate.

You could see some of that attitude in Yoongi, and you accepted it – that was how men were, after all. But sometimes, peeking through the haughty exterior, you caught glimpses of someone kind and considerate. Someone you could grow fond of.

“Come in and meet him,” you invited.

As he came closer, he breathed, “It’s a boy?” His voice was slightly choked.

Smiling, you nodded. He knelt next to you and peered into the blanket, staring down at his son for the first time. Then he turned his head slightly to regard you. “You look beautiful,” he complimented, and you looked up, surprised. You didn’t know exactly what you looked like, but you were sure you were a mess after labour and childbirth. Your hair was a matted, sweaty mess, and you were dressed simply, in a cotton underdress.

Still, from the way he watched you holding the baby, you could have been dressed in the most beautiful of clothes and jewels.

“Do you want to hold him?” you asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded, passing the little bundle over to him.

“My son,” he said softly, leaning his head down to get closer to the baby. “Min Man-bok.” The name had been chosen by the astrologers, who said it would bring him great fortune throughout his life. You hoped it was true. This boy would grow up to be the emperor that united the warring houses of Min and L/n, and finally put an end to all the senseless violence that had stolen the lives of your brothers, and later, your uncle.

As you watched them – your husband and your son – you felt a sense of contentment like you’d never known before. In that moment, it hardly mattered that they were the emperor and the crown prince, that the weight of the kingdom rested upon your baby’s tiny shoulders. For that brief window, they could just be… yours.

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The birth of your son changed everything. The gifts that had once been so dear to you because they meant that someone was out there thinking of you now seemed almost uncomfortable, like unwanted attention that threatened the security of your family. You knew it was ridiculous – after all, the giver of said gifts had been quietly doing so for months, never trying to push his luck or making his identity known to you.

Still, though, as you became closer to your husband, that nagging feeling that you were doing something wrong wouldn’t leave you. Thankfully, the gifts seemed to dry up, and you wondered if your anonymous admirer was really that astute. Whoever he was, you owed him your gratitude. He’d known when to start, and, it seemed, just when to stop.

In actuality, Yoongi had just been too busy to think about sending the gifts. Having a son took up much of the time that he wasn’t already spending governing, which had also increased in the past month or so. There was so much entertaining to do, as the lords and ladies of the land came to express their fealty to the crown prince, and as Yoongi made ever more ambitious diplomatic alliances with other kingdoms now that his reign was secured with the birth of his son.

In whatever spare time he had, he was constantly hanging around you and Man-bok, fawning over his son and enjoying your company. Despite your confinement, you thwarted the rules by sitting right outside your door to get a little sun and fresh air, often holding your son while you did so. It was a beautiful sight, one he wanted to continue to drink in for the rest of his days.

It was no surprise, therefore, that his priority wasn’t sending cute gifts to you anonymously, since he was always around you. When your confinement finally ended, he threw a little two-person party, ordering the kitchen to make all of the food you’d been craving since you were pregnant that had been off-limits for you, including your old favourites. He even managed to get the cook from your country estate into the palace, to make your childhood favourite.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said at the end of it, resisting the urge to lean back on your hands to give your stomach more space.

“Thank you,” he countered. “I am forever in your debt.”

“It was my duty,” you demurred. It was the truth – you’d always known that it would be your job to bring heirs to your husband.

“Still.” There was a beat of silence as a servant rushed to fill your cups with rice wine. He lifted his cup to toast you. “You have brought new hope to this kingdom. An emperor who will unite the houses of Min and L/n.”

“I thought our marriage accomplished that,” you giggled. You might have had too much alcohol tonight, after almost a year of not having any.

“You really think so?” he breathed, looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and told him they were for him.

“Yoongi…” It was the first time you’d called him by name. In your defense, the open, vulnerable way he was looking at you made it difficult to remember that he was a warrior king, despite the scar on his face that attested to his experience fighting a war. “Of course, Your Grace.” You recovered from your slip quickly, and you flushed slightly, hoping he wouldn’t remember it.

Of course, that was a doomed wish. He’d committed it to memory, the sound of your precious voice speaking his name, and in that almost fond and tender tone, too. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, and knew he was done for.

When he left your quarters that night after dinner, he barely waited till he’d descended the steps to pump his fist in the air. That was the most successful interaction you’d had with him to date, not counting when Man-bok was born, of course, since he was pretty sure you were so exhausted you couldn’t snipe at him if you tried then.

“Your Grace!” Sambo, walking a step behind him, sounded scandalized.

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“So, tonight went well,” Ling prompted as she helped you get ready for bed. You sat in front of her, letting her take the pins out of your hair and sighing in relief. Your updo was often twisted so tightly it pulled on your scalp, and the giant metal pins hurt, to say the least.

“How would you know that?” you murmured, trying to keep a straight face. Ling would never let you live this down if you confessed to her just how much you enjoyed the company of your husband these days. Not after you’d screamed so loudly and for so long about how you hated him and didn’t ever want him to touch you.

In your defense, he’d really been a nightmare to live with at the beginning, cold and angry, mistrustful of your intentions. Not that he’d had any reason to trust you based on the way you’d treated him. You still cringed to think of the angry, cruel words that had been exchanged between you. You’d mocked the scar on his face from your uncle, the previous emperor, and he’d taken pleasure in describing the way he ran his sword through him in exchange. You’d laughed at his tenuous grip on the throne, and he’d���

Well. Suffice it to say, both of you had moved past that.

Ling reached over you to shift the mirror so that you could see your own face in it. “You’ve always had a shitty poker face, milady,” she explained. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

You sighed. “I knew I should have gotten different servants when I came,” you responded without any heat.

“Please, as if you have the patience to teach someone else just how you like your morning routine,” Ling scoffed, recognizing your teasing for what it was. Finally removing the last pin from your hair, she smoothed her hands over it as it tumbled down your back, then picked up the brush to comb through it.

“You’re right. I guess I’m stuck with you,” you responded, tilting the mirror slightly so you could look at Ling in it.

“Whatever. Stop trying to change the subject,” Ling ordered. “What happened tonight? You looked so happy when he left, and he could barely hold back his grin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that,” you said defensively. “I’m barely even recovered from giving birth; I’m hardly ready for more.”

“All right,” Ling conceded, though you could tell from her tone that she was still amused. Belatedly, you realised that your defense hadn’t been about how you felt about your husband at all. “Have a good night, milady.”

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

Having a son changed everything. You knew, perhaps better than anyone else, save your brothers, the dangers that came with being an heir to the throne, and it worried you to pieces that his life would never be safe.

You’d told your husband before, completely unsympathetically, that this was what being the king would entail. Having people after you, coveting what was yours, always lurking in the shadows and waiting for a time to strike… the idea that your own son would be subject to the travails of being the emperor made you want to clutch him to your breast and never let him go.

Yoongi caught you in one of your moods one afternoon, sitting in the gazebo in your private gardens, leaning against a pillar as you rested your son against your thighs. You cooed at him as you played with his hands and feet, smiling as he laughed back at you, but the furrow of your brow gave you away.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting down next to you. It was rare for you two to be alone – Ling and Sambo were usually hanging around, and Man-bok’s nanny and wet nurse weren’t too far from the baby either. But you’d wanted a little time to bond with your son alone, so they were hanging out by the pond a small distance away. Ling had become friends with the nanny and nurse, and they were more than happy to have a little free time to gossip.

You picked up your infant son’s hand and used it to wave at him. “Hello, daddy,” you said in a high-pitched baby voice, and Yoongi smiled tenderly at the both of you, although you were still looking down at Man-bok and didn’t see it.

“Hello, my son,” he replied, leaning in to pick Man-bok up. You straightened his clothes a little as Yoongi stood the baby up on his lap, bouncing him a little. Yoongi was truly a remarkably involved father, especially for being the emperor.

“Yoongi, I’m worried about Man-bok,” you confessed in a small voice, looking up at your husband for the first time. Even the scar on his face now was a reminder of how difficult it was to be the emperor – Yoongi had been lucky to escape with just a disfigured face. He hadn’t even lost his vision.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yoongi asked with a frown, turning the boy slightly in his grasp to inspect him. He looked healthy enough, but you never knew with babies, really.

“Nothing,” you rushed to reassure him. “It’s just that being the crown prince is dangerous, and being the emperor is even worse.” Your voice choked up as you explained. Saying the words out loud made them more real somehow, and you almost wished you hadn’t.

“Y/n…” Yoongi looked over at you, shifting Man-bok so that he was being held more securely against him. “Is this about your uncle?” At the beginning, he’d never thought much about the fact that you were related to the previous emperors, but now the fact that he’d basically murdered your uncle in cold blood hung over his head like the sword of Damocles.

“Y/n… I’m sorry.” The words stuck in his craw, but he forced himself to say them anyway. It was a lie, but if it was what you needed to feel better…

Instead of accepting his apology, you made a rude noise. “For what?” you asked.

“For your uncle…?” Confused now, Yoongi cocked his head at you and furrowed his brow.

“Why would you need to apologize? Of course you raised an army to take the throne. It was his fault for leaving potential heirs alive.” The nonchalant way you expressed that sentiment gave him pause. He’d never taken you for someone so cavalier about violence and death. “He did the same thing to my brothers.”

The way your lips tightened as you said it clued him in to the fact that that was what was really bothering you. Of course, your brothers. The two princes that your uncle had had imprisoned and then murdered to secure his rule. When your father had died, your uncle had been declared regent since the crown prince wasn’t old enough to rule, and he’d wasted no time cementing his own authority instead.

“Y/n…” You avoided his gaze, instead reaching for Man-bok. He relinquished the boy to you and you hugged him close, needing to feel your son’s warm, healthy body pressed against you. “I promise you,” he continued, his voice full of conviction. “Nothing will ever happen to our son. Not so long as I live and breathe.” Ducking in, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of Man-bok’s head.

“Really?” The faint hope in your voice made his heart clench. In all the time he’d spent alternately admiring your kindness and cursing your stubborn, know-it-all streak, he’d never seen the vulnerability that you were showing him now. In hindsight, it was silly that he hadn’t realized this earlier, but of course you were scarred from the civil conflict that had been raging. Your family was in the thick of it all, and as much as the men and women involved were royalty, they were also your blood relatives. Really, it was a wonder you’d turned out as normal as you had.

“I swear on my life.” He’d never meant anything as much as he did now.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Holding Man-bok with one hand, you reached for him with the other, sliding your arm along his shoulder to pull him close for a kiss. It was sweet and tender, a wonderful, perfectly fitting first kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as you drew close, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he could. Your lips were soft and you smelled like roses, just like the perfume he’d given you in secret.

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

It was highly unusual for the emperor to share a bed with his empress. Intimacy was carefully planned based on auspicious dates, and after the deed was done, you both got dressed and went your separate ways. You knew that, and yet you slipped into his room that night, after Man-bok’s 100-day celebration.

You’d gotten mostly undressed after the banquet ended, grateful to be out of your restrictive clothing. Man-bok was sleeping, of course, with his nanny, and you’d dismissed Ling too after she helped you out of the empress robes. Dressed in just your pajamas, you pulled a warm shawl over your shoulders and left your quarters. You just had so much pent-up energy from earlier, and you needed to talk to someone about it.

“Hey,” you said softly, slipping in through the doors just as Sambo was leaving. He gave you a sideways glance, but you ignored it.

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted, smiling at you. He too was in his pajamas, already in bed, the covers pooling around his waist as he sat up. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…” You swallowed, feeling a little silly now. This could have waited till tomorrow. “I guess I didn’t want the night to be over,” you confessed. It had been so much fun tonight, getting to meet and talk to everyone. Your sisters and old friends had come to the palace, and Man-bok had been so cute in his little ceremonial robes.

“I get it,” he said. “Come sit.”

You came closer, sliding the shawl off your shoulders, and knelt next to his futon. Illuminated in the soft light of the lamp nearby, the long blonde hair he’d left to tumble over his shoulders seemed to glow softly. Your own hair had been hastily put back in a bun – a lady never left her rooms with her hair down, after all. It was nowhere near as intricate as anything Ling could do for you, but it sufficed.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked with a soft smile.

“You know I did,” you giggled, leaning closer.

“Yes, I saw you having a grand old time with your sisters,” he teased, fondness evident in his voice. Ever since the kiss you’d shared, your relationship had been evolving. Yoongi didn’t know if you would ever forgive him for what he’d done to your family – despite your dismissive attitude towards your uncle – but he was content with this. You letting your guard down around him, seeking him out and enjoying his company… it was more than he’d allowed himself to hope for.

“Oh, I haven’t seen them in over a year,” you enthused. “It was so nice to see them all again! Thank you for inviting them,” you said, more quietly now. “I know it wasn’t an easy decision, inviting the L/n clan tonight.” Despite everything, you knew he was still insecure about his rule.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at you, then noticed for the first time the soft light glinting off the hairpin you were wearing, the one he’d bought for you. “Oh, you’re wearing the pin! I was right, it does look good on you,” he complimented.

“You— what?” Your voice was shaky, your eyes wide as you reached up to wrap your fingers around the pin, and Yoongi realized that he’d fucked up.

Just to be sure that it was the right one, you pulled it from your hair, causing the long locks to tumble over your shoulders. Brushing it aside impatiently, you inspected the pin. Sure enough, it was the same one that you’d received almost a year ago, and you’d never found out who sent it to you.

“It was you?” The words trembled, fragile in the darkness of the room, barely there, like a wisp of smoke.

“I… yes.” Yoongi was watching you carefully, his hands held out placatingly in front of him.

“But why?” It felt like your mind was shutting down, unable to reconcile this new information. Back when you’d gotten this pin, you could barely stand to be in the same room as your husband. You hadn’t even started being friendly until after Man-bok was born. To know that he hadn’t felt the same way, that he’d been quietly watching you, thinking of you…

“I just wanted to make you smile,” he said honestly with a half shrug.

“Yoongi…” Your voice was choked up, and he was starting to panic now, not quite sure what he’d done wrong. Even if you hadn’t welcomed his advances, he hadn’t overstepped, right? All he’d wanted to do was make you less miserable, and now he was thinking that he would have been better off leaving you alone altogether.

“Is… is that okay?” The words were hesitant, Yoongi ducking slightly to look at your face.

Sniffling, you nodded, swiping at your tears impatiently so you could look at him clearly. In the dim, flickering light, Yoongi’s face was the most beautiful, dear thing you’d ever laid eyes on. Your eyes roamed his face, seeing him as if for the first time. He was so handsome, your husband, your emperor.

“Are you disappointed? Is that why you’re crying?” Worry crinkled Yoongi’s brow. He knew he wasn’t the greatest catch. Throne aside, his hair was a strange colour and the scar running dramatically across his face marred him permanently. He was short and quiet, awkward, caustic… The insecurities came roaring to the forefront.

“No,” you denied, grabbing his hands and bringing them to your chest. You shuffled closer yet, so that your forehead rested against his. “I’m not disappointed at all. Yoongi…” you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as you brushed your lips across his softly. “Thank you.” For caring about you even when you’d cursed him. For being by your side, even when you hadn’t known it. Just for being him.

Yoongi’s hand slipped from your grasp before reaching up to cup your face, his thumb running across your cheekbone tenderly. “You’re welcome.” He understood what you meant and responded in kind. “You give me more than you know, Y/n.”

The urge to give him more was rising within you. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you swung one leg over his lap, so that you were straddling him. His hands went to your waist, supporting you and tugging you closer. “Y/n,” he groaned. “What do you want from me?”

Your response was unequivocal. “Everything.”

That was all the permission he needed. Yoongi’s hand travelled up from your waist to the back of your head, bringing you in for a fiery kiss. He poured all of the longing of the past months into it, his lips moving over yours with urgency. Try as you might to keep up, you couldn’t. You’d only had sex with him to conceive before, and it had always been a hasty, dispassionate affair. You didn’t know what to do with your hands or your mouth, your palms resting lightly on his shoulders. You liked this, enjoyed the way his tongue slid against yours, but your body was rigid with uncertainty.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Yoongi broke away from the torrid kiss to ask. His hand on your waist rubbed you soothingly as he leaned back to take a good look at you.

“Uh, yeah, I…” You stammered. “This isn’t like before,” you finally said. All you knew of sex was what he’d shown you before, quick thrusts with his hands holding onto your thighs while you clutched the bedsheets and tried not to let your pain and discomfort show.

It was vague, but Yoongi knew what you meant, and he flushed with shame. “I’m going to make it up to you, okay?” he said, wrapping his arms around you and turning so that you were lowered onto the futon. His forearms bracketed your body, holding his weight up as he lowered his head for another kiss. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he slurred against your lips, one hand reaching for the tie of your shirt.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, your hands sliding around his waist as you held on to his clothes, tugging him closer to you. You felt the hard press of his erection against your belly, and were filled with curiosity. Before, you’d never really wanted to get close to it, and he’d basically just shoved it into you with little fanfare. You’d never even gotten a good look before.

Undoing the ties to his trousers, you slid your hand in, running your fingers hesitantly along his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and you jerked your hand back as if scalded.

“I’m sorry,” you started to apologize, and he backtracked immediately.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured you, nosing at your chin before he trailed kisses down your neck. You sighed and tilted your head, giving him more room.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes, really,” he said, sucking a little mark right over your collarbone. Emboldened now, you tried again, this time wrapping your hand softly around the shaft. His skin was soft here, and so smooth, but you could feel the steely hardness underneath.

“Ah, you’re so good,” he praised, and you started stroking him lightly, carefully.

“Allow me,” he breathed as he slid his hand down your body, groaning as he found the wetness between your legs. “So perfect for me,” he sighed as he started stroking your clit softly, watching you for your reaction.

You moaned luxuriantly, throwing your head back as your hips rocked. You’d never felt anything like this before, and if this was what sex could be, it was no wonder everyone seemed to like it so much. As you grew distracted with the pleasure suffusing your being, your hand slowed down and then stopped on his erection, but he didn’t mind. Coaxing the sighs and moans from you was more than enough for him.

“I’m going to put my finger in now,” he warned you, and your eyes opened in confusion.

“Why?” you wondered.

“I have to stretch you out, love, so you can take me easily,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you.

“You didn’t before,” you pointed out, and he grimaced.

“Please forget everything I did before,” he groaned, sounding very much like he was in pain. “None of it was right, and I want to show you how much I love you.”

“You—what?” That was new. You hadn’t expected it so soon, if ever.

“Oh, fuck.” He reared back at that and clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. “I didn’t mean to say that! Please ignore it,” he pleaded. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you put your clothes back on and ran out of there right now. What an embarrassing lapse of decorum.

To his surprise, you did none of that, instead wrapping your hands around his wrists and tugging them away from his face. “Did you mean it?”

“Y/n—” he whined, his face hot.

“Yoongi, please,” you said, and the tenderness in your voice gave him courage.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I don’t expect you to say it back! I know it’s too soon, and you might never feel that way about me, and that’s okay, really, I—”

You cut him off by tugging him close to you and kissing him. “I love you too,” you murmured softly when you separated.

“Really?” His voice was small, and you smiled as you nodded.

“Fuck, I’m going to make it all better,” he swore, his voice deepening into a growl towards the end. With a renewed sense of purpose, he pushed you back into the futon. His hands were everywhere as they stripped you of your clothing, and you felt a little exposed lying there bare for him to see. You were more than aware that your body hadn’t quite bounced back from pregnancy, and he’d never seen you completely nude anyway.

The sheer reverence reflected in his gaze did much to boost your confidence, though. “You’re so gorgeous,” he rasped, bending to tug a nipple into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching as he laved at it, his hand returning to its previous mission of getting you ready to take him. His thumb rolled over your clit gently as he slid his fingers into you, first one, then two, pumping slowly to loosen you up. The wet, lewd sound soon echoed through the room.

“Yoongi,” you breathed to get his attention, pushing his shirt over his shoulders. The tie had already come undone and the front was hanging rather uselessly by his sides, and it wasn’t difficult to remove it. Yoongi got the message, though, stripping himself off with far less fanfare than he’d done for you before coming back with a vengeance, as if the seconds he’d spent away from your body were too much to bear.

“Yoongi, c’mon,” you begged inarticulately, pulling his body down to yours by wrapping your arms and legs around him.

“Stop it,” he admonished. “I’m going to get you nice and ready for me. You have to be patient.” But you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, writhing on the mattress.

That certainly got his attention, and he looked back up at your face, seeing the expression of wild abandon painted across your features. Your eyes were shut and your mouth open as you lost yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, long hair spread across his pillow.

“You ruin me,” he accused as he withdrew his hand, using the slick coating his fingers to lube up his cock before he positioned it at your entrance. You moaned and arched, tightening your legs around him to draw him in deeper.

Before, when he’d done this, it had hurt. You’d been dry and he hadn’t put any effort into preparing you or making it a pleasurable experience for you, and you tensed up, remembering how unpleasant the experience had been before. You wanted to make him feel good, though, because he’d done the same for you, and it was that which motivated you to urge him into your body.

When he slid in, inch by glorious inch, contrary to your expectations you didn’t feel pain. No, there was a stretch, but it was intensely pleasurable, and you writhed against him. “Ah, Yoongi, it feels so good,” you gasped.

“Yeah?” he said, sucking marks into your neck. “You like that?” When he finally bottomed out, he rested his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to retain some control.

“Yes, Yoongi,” you moaned, wriggling and clenching down on him, desperate for more.

“Fuck, don’t move,” he gasped, his eyes wide as he clutched your hip. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It is good,” you insisted, ignoring his instructions.

“Y/n, you don’t even know,” he groaned, bracing himself as he started to move his hips. He was gentle at first, making sure that it didn’t hurt, but you were impatient, whining that you wanted more, and before he knew it, he was really going at it, one arm hooked around your leg to hold you open for him.

“Yoongi, yes, yes,” you exulted, thrilled. The expression on his face, his brow furrowed tightly, was endlessly exciting for you, and you loved the motion of his jaw as he clenched hard, focusing on pleasing you.

Adjusting his position, he started thrusting again, this time skidding against your g-spot with every thrust. To really seal the deal, he reached down to rub at your clit with his fingers, drinking your every sound and movement up eagerly. You raked your nails down his back as your legs tightened around him, clenching down on him hard as you came.

Faced with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him rhythmically, he couldn’t hold it together much longer, pressing his forehead into your neck as he reached his own orgasm, groaning as his hips stuttered sporadically.

When it was over, he slumped down over you, barely remembering to tilt his body at the last second so that he slid off you and onto the futon. “I love you,” he gasped, throwing one sweaty arm over your chest to drag you closer to him so he could press kisses over your face. “I love you so much.”

Smiling, you turned your head, rubbing your nose against his affectionately. “I love you too, Your Grace.” The teasing lilt in your voice as you called him that warmed his heart. Before he could say much more, however, you yawned and turned, slinging your arm around his waist. “Good night,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

“Good night.” He rested his hand on the back of your head. His empress, his wife. His love.

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

If you liked it, please leave a comment and/or reblog. It goes a lot further than a like. Thank you!

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.9

masterlist

requests are closed, but please read this first :)

if you want to be tagged, send an ask or message me!

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope, my original shameless self insert idea lmao

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when their exchange student is...a bit strange (but very hot). NOT a nonmagic AU, though you already knew that if you’ve read part 8 ;)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a break in, concerns about a home intruder, objectively the most fluffy scene we’ve gotten so far in this series (hehe), draco being fucking obnoxious and moody (did i mention swearing?)

a/n: ayoooooo so here’s part 9, as promised. i’ve started getting back into the hp universe more and more, so i should probably be picking up my writing soon. i’ve been feeling more myself again!! which is super awesome. i don’t think many people read this series anymore (or my author notes in general but i don’t blame yall) but i’m having a lot of fun writing it, so i’m going to keep going :)

music recs: 

puppy princess -- hot freaks

loverboy -- A-wall

linger -- the cranberries

tags tags tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

word count: 3.8k :)

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if Draco deliberately waited until the last minute to tell her family that he was leaving so he could evade her questioning. She tried to talk to him later that evening by knocking on his door, but she was met with complete silence. 

Draco was ignoring her, and she didn’t get why. She’d promised to not tell anyone--even begged for him to trust her and essentially swore on her life--but he still wasn’t acting normal. Perhaps he didn’t want her to badger him with questions about the magical world. 

Or maybe this was an excuse to get away from her.

Y/N swallowed the second possibility and locked it away somewhere out of sight. He’d left without a single word more to her (not even a congratulations for getting into a top 20 school, that loser) and never even bothered telling her when he’d return. And maybe that was the nicest part of it--she could pretend like he was never coming back.

As attractive as that option was, she had to admit that there was a Draco-shaped hole in her passenger car seat every time she drove to school. And in the kitchen when she was studying. And everywhere else he’d once touched. 

“Why do you think he went back?” 

Y/N took a break from reviewing her Art History final exam notes to look up at Lizzy. “Maybe something happened with his dad or he wanted to spend his holidays with his family? It’s probably not that serious.”

“Speaking of his dad, I tried to look up his name and see if anything came up,” Lizzy began. Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. “Don’t you think it’s kinda sus? I haven’t found anything for him. It’s like he’s been completely wiped off the face of the earth. Do you know anything about it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Draco’s franticness when she found out lingered in the back of her mind as she chose her words carefully. “I’m sure if he’s a genuine political target, they’ve just scrubbed the web clean of him, being a minor and all.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny that he’s apparently so important but there’s no evidence of him or his father ever existing?”

“Lizzy.” Her voice was firm. “It’s entirely possible that his real name is different. And either way, it’s not our story to uncover. He’s entitled to his own privacy, and if he doesn’t reveal his true identity then we need to respect that.”

“Oooookaaayyyyy, Mother,” said Lizzy. “You’re so fun. You know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

After the close brush with Lizzy, Y/N avoided the topic of Draco with her friends like wildfire. At the back of her mind, she registered that that was probably more suspicious, but when Sylvia asked her about him during lunch, she finally spun up a story.

“I told him I liked him,” she told everyone, the words stinging her throat. “He doesn’t feel the same way. I just would feel better if we dropped it.”

Her friends reacted immediately with sympathy, telling her that it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t see her for what she was worth. Somehow, this made her feel worse. She didn’t even need to tell him her feelings to know his thoughts--he didn’t see her as anything but a “muggle”, or whatever he called them. She never stood a chance.

Y/N spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering how things would’ve been different if she was a witch. She didn’t know anything about his world (apart from the fact that they really had a stick up their asses about people knowing of them) but she somehow craved a place in it. Would Draco feel differently towards her if she was magic? 

It was probably better if she didn’t pay too much mind to it, but she couldn’t let the thought go. Every time she shut her eyes at night, the memory of waking up next to Draco replayed in her head, over and over. She would’ve sold her soul to have gone back to that. Would things have been different if she had just...not found the letters? She was driving herself crazy digging through all her interactions with him. There’s no way she was imagining things, and judging by the surprised reactions of her friends when she told them he didn’t reciprocate feelings, she wasn’t the only one who thought something was there. If he was really so disgusted by her and her people, he wouldn’t have let her sleep in his room, in his bed no less. 

As December wore on, her mind began to be occupied by another feverish stream of thoughts. If she didn’t already feel like she was going crazy over the Draco problem, she was going completely insane over the fact that she was misplacing things like crazy and forgetting the most basic of things. It seemed like it was almost every day that she was forgetting where she put her keys (even though she could’ve sworn she’d hung them up by the door) or getting home to find the door already unlocked even though she was sure that she’d locked it behind her. It would’ve creeped her out, but she was really off kilter. It just wasn’t right having Draco away, and the sense of dread she got every time she went by her room just threw her off balance. What if she still had lingering sickness from whatever magical infliction she suffered? 

He really should’ve stuck around to watch after me. Just in case. 

Another thing was bothering her--a name she saw pop up in the pouch from when she went through his letters. It was a small portion of his collection, and she didn’t even think to examine it until after he took them back from her, but she noticed that the name “Pansy Parkinson” came up more than once as a return address. 

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst--Draco was madly in love with another girl, a magical girl, and traveled back home with the express purpose of declaring his neverending devotion for her and complaining about that rat Ohioan muggle that he had to spend his days with. 

Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t quite shake it. The fact that he’d no doubt grown up around girls that would be suitable for him to date was making her physically ill with jealousy, which was probably the most embarrassing part of her feelings for him. Nevermind how much time she spent fantasizing about how soft his hair felt or how his stupidly pretty fingers would feel grazing her skin--she couldn’t even cope with the idea of him existing with other women that were honestly a better choice to him. 

That Christmas was surprisingly bleak. Being an only child always made for a quiet house during the holidays, but the expectation she held of having Draco there set her up for disappointment. Her house felt empty.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” Y/N asked her mother as they did the morning dishes together. 

“Well, I assume so. Why wouldn’t he? He was scheduled to spend the entire year with us. I think that if he’s changed his mind we would at least know by now.”

“What if he’s still deciding?”

“Why, miss him already?” Mrs. Y/L/N’s tone was teasing, but she felt her cheeks grow hot. 

“Quite the contrary. I’m just wondering if I’m about to become the pampered only child again or if I’m going to need to go back into the unglamorous life of sharing the spotlight.”

“Y/N,” her mother tutted. She’d stopped doing the dishes.

Y/N made a point to evade her knowing look. “Mom.” 

Her mother took a breath before answering. “Nothing. As a matter of fact, I did get a letter from him a few days ago. He’s scheduled to return the second week of January, right before school goes back.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, there’s no way her relief wasn’t visible.

“How’s that for your Christmas gift, hm?” 

“Mom!”

“Hey! Hey, it was a joke,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, throwing her hands up in a “no can do” sort of gesture. “I know that you’re good friends with him is all. Unless…”

“Mom!” Her cheeks were all shades of red.

“All I’m saying is that he seems to enjoy your company.”

“Stockholm syndrome, I’m telling you.” Her explanation of what that meant was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. There was no reason to--the only person who would need that explained to them was no longer on the same continent as her. 

“Whatever you’d like to think.”

~ 

The snowstorm hit them without warning, two days after Christmas. Her parents had left for the night to attend a charity auction, but unfortunately for Y/N, by the time that they realized that their daughter would be snowed in, the roads were too dangerous to drive on. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to do all of the things they told her to--get the generator ready, make sure the fireplace was prepared, and locate all the candles in the house. 

On any normal day, she wouldn’t have been concerned in the slightest, but she’d felt uneasy in her house ever since the night of the break-in, and now that this was the first night she’d have to spend alone, her heart was pounding at the thought of having to sleep in an empty house. Especially if the power was out. Especially when whoever broke in was still on the loose. 

She locked up at dusk, making sure that every entry to her home was completely sealed shut. The generator was in the basement, all set up in the case that the lights went out. She’d located all the bottled water in her house in case the pipes froze, and she finally retired to her room to relax. 

The sense of dread that hovered around Draco’s room was gone, thankfully. The overall feeling of creepiness was just beginning to lose its jarring sting, but she’d never quite been able to shake how many things she misplaced in the beginning of the month. 

She busied herself with mundane activities--she cleaned out her closet, organized her drawers, read, changed her sheets, and finished the last of her homework--but nothing could distract her from the gnawing inside of her. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly stood up, even when she was tucked away in the corner of her room, nestled into her blankets. The tingling was akin to what she felt when she walked into that antique shop on homecoming night--the same night when Draco helped her off her feet and narrowly kept her from throwing up all over Heather.

Looking back on it, she realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he must’ve done something to quell her nausea, something magical. There was no way her carsickness could’ve been able to disappear so quickly. 

Her soliloquy was interrupted by what sounded like footsteps outside. Before she could assess the situation and decide what she was going to do, a boom sounded off in the distance and she was all of a sudden bathed in darkness.

Y/N froze.

Someone was most definitely outside her house, but thankfully she’d locked all the doors. And, thankfully, the boom told her that her fuse box hadn’t been messed with. A tree had probably just fallen on a transformer. 

But those small comforts still didn’t change the fact that she was no longer alone--and not only that, but no longer alone without power. 

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by banging on her front door. Y/N jumped, just barely managing to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that alerting someone that you were home wasn’t the smartest move. She’d have to be strategic. 

Heart pounding out of her chest, she crept out of her room and down the stairs. The power outage was quite lucky, she realized, as whoever was outside couldn’t see in. The moon only cast a slight light as it reflected off of the snow, so she was going to be able to see the person outside before they would see her.

She squinted from her perch by the base of the staircase. She could make out a silhouette, a tall and lanky one. The weak moonlight reflected off a very light head of hair, and Y/N was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

No way...

Y/N stood frozen for a few seconds as she heard the person knock on the door again. A muffled version of a familiar British voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Throwing all caution to the wind and praying to any higher power that was listening to her that her suspicion was correct, she pushed down on the doorknob and swung it open.

Her heart stopped. 

“Draco? What are you--”

Before she could get another word out of her mouth, she was pulled into the tightest (and snowiest) hug of her life. One of his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, the other reaching further up to her shoulders to hold her closer. He was tall enough in comparison that he could rest his chin on the top of her head while she cautiously clasped her hands around him, breathing in the same soft pine scent that she knew so well.

When he finally let go of her, she noticed that his face was decidedly less pale than what it had been when she first opened the door. At a loss for words, Y/N just made her way behind him and shut the door to keep the storm from blowing any more snowflakes in. She noted that Draco was shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She grinned. “Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not that scared of the dark.”

He didn’t look nearly as amused, wringing his hands out in front of him instead of meeting her eyes.

“You’re going to freeze to death if you’re gonna just stand there in soaking clothes,” she chided. “And what are you doing back half a month early? I know you must’ve missed me, but I didn’t expect you to miss me THAT much.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing Y/N the comfort that the sarcastic asshole was still in there. “We need to talk.”

“No, what you need to do is get changed into dry clothes,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but until we get our generator working, there’s no heat...and I’m not sure if the Ministry is going to like it if I let you die on my watch.”

Even though he didn’t normally laugh at her jokes, he seemed especially solemn when she said this. It became very clear to her then that he regretted his brief display of affection.

“What are you doing, just standing here? Shoo! I don’t want to see you dripping snow all over the rug.” She waved him off until he made his way up the stairs, still eerily silent. 

Once she was sure he was actually getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen where she started heating up the water. She’d never been more thankful for the fact that they had a gas stove instead of an electric one. 

The tea was almost finished brewing by the time that Draco was back downstairs, perched awkwardly on the couch. She’d never seen his sweater before--it was in a rich forest green with a silver crest of a snake. 

“Are you going to tell me whatever is going on? I’ve never seen you like this before,” asked Y/N as she handed him the mug that she knew to be his favorite.

He took a sip and waited a bit before responding. “I found out some things while I was away.”

“Is that it? Must’ve been something pretty interesting for you to come in here and act like I’m your long lost love or whatever.” She took careful note of how his cheeks were especially pink, but it must’ve been because of the cold.

“I shouldn’t tell you everything, but I think you should probably know the gist of things,” he began. “First of all, I figured out why I couldn’t use the Obliviation cube on you. Also, you have to consent to an Unbreakable Vow.”

“A...what? Care to elaborate? Like, at least a little? Why didn’t it work on me?”

He sighed, a sharp breath of air that left his lungs in a huff. “Because you stumbled upon a very important box that can bestow the gift of magic onto anyone. And since you did something in your dream to try and open it, it permanently took root in you. I tried to reverse it, but there’s always going to be an imprint of magic on you.”

“Sick. So I’m a witch now? Like you?”

“No.” His tone was sour. “No, you’re not. For that to work, there needs to be a ritual actually completed by someone magical. That’s why you got so sick--because you would’ve needed me to help you through your dream sequence and open up the box. So, now that you’ve essentially pushed yourself into the magical world uninvited, I can’t use anything on you that’s catered towards Muggles.”

“Rats,” said Y/N. “That’s no fun. What about the whole part about my safety? And what’s that vow thing?”

“Apparently someone really, really wants that box,” Draco told her. “It doesn’t just give muggles the gift of magic--it can also give current wizards powers that are otherwise completely unavailable to the rest of the population. In the wrong hands, they could wreak havoc on the world. And I’m almost positive they think you have it.”

“Oh…” Everything started falling into place. “So, the break in? That probably was them right? And, uh, let’s say if you feel like maybe someone has been in your house while you’ve been gone? Like, that’s something I should be worried about, right?” 

“Is that happening to you?” His face looked significantly more pale.

Y/N was tempted to tell him no--just to ease his nerves--but something in his look told her that she needed to be truthful. “Um, kind of. You know how I can be forgetful, though. It’s just little things, like sometimes I come home to find that the front door is unlocked when I’m sure I locked it, or I can’t find little things like my car keys and my phone, but it’s all easily explained.”

“I never should’ve left,” he said, tucked his knees up to his chest. “I should’ve known that that was Merlin’s Box.” He swallowed, meeting her eyes with a gaze that looked so forlorn that her heart ached. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, all we have to do is tell them I don’t have the box, right? And then they’ll leave me alone.” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assume so, but if they didn’t find the box when they originally ransacked your room and they’re still hanging around, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I can’t obliviate you, the proper way that we use on wizards, because I can’t always be there to save you. Once I’m gone, you’re going to have to manage on your own.”

“Please, Draco,” said Y/N. “People will always talk a big game, but once I pull out my pepper spray it’s over. I can take care of myself! I didn’t need protection while you’re away.”

He smiled then, a small one that seemed more sad than anything. “You sound like me. When I was younger.”

“You probably don’t even know what pepper spray is. What’s that vow thing?”

“You have to promise that you won’t say anything that would reveal what you know about me and my world,” said Draco. “I need to find a wizard to say the incantations, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I ended up telling the Ministry what happened--I’m not going to get sent away as they have a clear record of me at least attempting to wipe your memory and they agree that you need to be able to protect yourself. Unbreakable Vows are just really intense promises. If you break it, you die.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t really trust my word?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s required by the Ministry. If you don’t comply, then you’re going to be completely obliviated and then you can have as much fun as you’d like trying to run from whoever that criminal is without even knowing why they’re after you. Oh, and without me.” 

“Then why are you even offering the vow? Don’t you want to go home?”

Draco took a long drink from his mug. “I still have a sentence to carry out. If I go back home, I’ll get sent to the same prison that my father is being held at right now.”

“A...sentence?” Y/N stared at him. “I know you mentioned a punishment, but a sentence?”

He remained silent and refused to meet her eyes.

“Draco, what exactly did you have to do?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. The sudden switch of tone made Y/N start, but he was unwavering in his scowl. “I’d prefer to not think about it.”

“But...Draco…” Y/N cast her gaze to the ground so she didn’t have to see the no doubt furious look in his eyes when she continued to push. “How bad? Do you think that maybe whoever is after me might know that I don’t have the box anymore? And that they might be trying to seek revenge against you for whatever it was that you did instead?”

He didn’t respond.

“Think about it. That would explain why I was untouched this whole time that you were away when they were still keeping tabs on me.”

With a pronounced bonk, he set his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

She managed to get one more look at his face before he spun around to head up the stairs and was shocked to see what was etched into his face--anger, yes, frustration...and also shame. Unmistakable shame.

final a/n: weeoooooooo i’m like 3 minutes early...this is a monumental moment for my blog. let me know what you guys think (if there’s still people sticking with this series fjkds;al). i am going to go back into my hole and work on some math hw (wonders of ohio y/n vibes...i have low key become her trying to roleplay as a stem girl). the plot is going to thicken and hopefully there will be more fluff soon. i honestly didn’t want to add the hug bc i do want this to be slow burn but it has come to my attention that this is now about 30k words long and i haven’t given y’all so much as an inkling that draco has feelings/anything will happen between them so i gotta give you something to hold you over fjdska;

[kellyvela]

GRRM has said in interviews that he’s purposely played with the romantic tension between the hound and Sansa. What do you think the endgame purpose of the unkiss and that playing is meant to be for?

This is all what he said about the matter in question so far:

The Hound and Sansa, romantic or platonic? It could be very different things to each of those involved, mind you!

JUNE 24, 1999 THE HOUND AND SANSA

Moreta12: I understand, I’ve heard your opinion on that. In ACOK, it seems that the relationship between the Hound and Sansa had romantic undertones. Is that true?

GeoRR: Well, read the book and decide for yourself.

Moreta12: I’ve read the book and I’ve debated those particular scenes with a few others. Half say that it’s romantic and half say it’s platonic. I’ve taken the romantic stance.

GeoRR:  It could be very different things to each of those involved, mind you

Moreta12:Yes, but it seem like evidence points towards romantic undertones. Will the Hound appear later?

GeoRR: Yes, the Hound will be in STORM OF SWORDS. In fact, I just finished writing a big scene with him.

[Source]

When will Sansa be “legal”?  **ºª@”¡¿x<%$!&?

OCTOBER 05, 1999 AGE OF SEXUAL RELATIONS IN WESTEROS

The nature of the relationship between Sandor and Sansa has been a hot topic on Revanshe’s board. Sansa’s youth has been one focus of the discussion. What is the general Westerosi view as to romantic or sexual relationships involving a girl of Sansa’s age and level of physical maturity?

A boy is Westeros is considered to be a “man grown” at sixteen years. The same is true for girls. Sixteen is the age of legal majority, as twenty-one is for us.

However, for girls, the first flowering is also very significant… and in older traditions, a girl who has flowered is a woman, fit for both wedding and bedding.

A girl who has flowered, but not yet attained her sixteenth name day, is in a somewhat ambigious position: part child, part woman. A “maid,” in other words. Fertile but innocent, beloved of the singers.

In the “general Westerosi view,” well, girls may well be wed before their first flowerings, for political reasons, but it would considered perverse to bed them. And such early weddings, even without sex, remain rare. Generally weddings are postponed until the bride has passed from girlhood to maidenhood.

Maidens may be wedded and bedded… however, even there, many husbands will wait until the bride is fifteen or sixteen before sleeping with them. Very young mothers tend to have significantly higher rates of death in childbirth, which the maesters will have noted.

As in the real Middle Ages, highborn girls tend to flower significantly earlier than those of lower birth. Probably a matter of nutrition. As a result, they also tend to marry earlier, and to bear children earlier. There are plenty of exceptions.

[Source]

Unreliable Narrator

JUNE 26, 2001 SF, TARGARYENS, VALYRIA, SANSA, MARTELLS, AND MORE

[GRRM is asked about Sansa misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword.]

The Lion’s Paw / Lion’s Tooth business (*), on the other hand, is intentional. A small touch of the unreliable narrator. I was trying to establish that the memories of my viewpoint characters are not infallible. Sansa is simply remembering it wrong. A very minor thing (you are the only one to catch it to date), but it was meant to set the stage for a much more important lapse in memory. You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom… but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it’s a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on.

[Source]

(*) It was Arya who misremembered the name of Joffrey’s sword tho…

Unreliable Narrator 2.0

OCTOBER 05, 2002 SANSA’S MEMORY

[Note: This mail has been edited for brevity.]

… this is an inconsistency with ASoS more than an outright error. In ASoS, Sansa thinks that the Hound kissed her before leaving her room and King’s Landing. In ACoK, no kiss is mentioned in the scene, though Sansa did think that he was about to do so.

Well, not every inconsistency is a mistake, actually. Some are quite intentional. File this one under “unreliable narrator” and feel free to ponder its meaning

[Source]

Unreliable Narrator 3.0

NOVEMBER 27, 2007 GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ANSWERS YOUR QUESTIONS

Here’s a really particular question (which I realize means it probably won’t get asked in a general interview): In A Storm of Swords, there is a chapter early on where Sansa is thinking back to the scene at the end of A Clash of Kings when The Hound came into her room during the battle. She thinks in the chapter about how he kissed her, but in the scene in A Clash of Kings, this actually didn’t happen. Was that a typo or something? —Valdora

GRRM: It’s not a typo. It is something! [Laughs] ”Unreliable narrator” is the key phrase there. The second scene is from Sansa’s thoughts. And what does that reveal about her psychologically? I try to be subtle about these things.

[Source]

Sansa may be dead but Alayne is alive

APRIL 15, 2008 FUTURE MEETINGS, POVS, ARYA’S ROLE, EASTERN LANDS, AND ASSASSINS

[Will Sandor and Sansa meet?]

Why, the Hound is dead, and Sansa may be dead as well. There’s only Alayne Stone.

[Source]

A lot more dangerous than romantic

AUGUST 2, 2009 AS SER JORAH MORMONT…

weltraummuell: The Hound Oh please don’t cast an old guy for the Hound, his scenes with Sansa are so romantic and erotic, I couldn’t bear if it’d feel creepy all of a sudden. Well, that’s me making demands. LOL

GRRM: Re: The Hound Old guy? No, but… the Hound is still a whole lot older than Sansa, and was never written as attractive… you know, those hideous burns and all that… he’s a lot more dangerous than he is romantic.

kestrana: The Hound Yeah its a “girl always wants the bad boy” kind of thing although Sansa seems to pull something else out of him. It feels so wrong sometimes but I want to see them together again tee hee.

weltraummuell: The Hound Hehe, George, maybe you didn’t intend it, but he turned out to be a very erotic character to female readers. Especially since he’s mutilated and dangerous. Makes him unpredictable and vulnerable which is the most explosive aphrodisiac for a girl’s fantasy. ;)

weltraummuell: The Hound And I know from discussions on other board other women feel just the same about Sandor. He’s an absolute favourite with the ladies!

halfbloodmalfoy: The Hound LOL, you’re such a man. To many of us women, dangerous *is* attractive.

GRRM: The Hound But no one has any love for poor old Sam Tarly, kind and smart and decent and devoted…

[Source]

I played with it but I didn’t get the answer I was waiting for

JUNE 22, 2012 SWORD & LASER VIDEO PODCAST

GRRM: I am sometimes surprised by the reactions, of women in particular, to some of the villains. The number of women over the years who have written to me that their favorite characters are Jaime Lannister or Sandor Clegane [the Hound] or Theon Greyjoy… All of these are deeply troubled individuals with some very dark sides, who have done some very dark things. Nonetheless, they do draw this response, and quite heavily, I think, in the case of some of them, from my female readers in particular.

Veronica Belmont: I’m a big fan of the Hound, myself, actually.

Tom Merritt: Of Sandor? Really?

Veronica Belmont: Yeah, the Hound… Maybe it’s not because I feel any compassion towards them, I’m not really sure what the attraction is. Ah, I’m not going to call it attraction, actually. Let’s just say it’s a fascination, perhaps.

GRRM: [Chuckles] Well, I mean, fascination is one thing, but some of these letters indicate that there really is like a romantic attraction going on there. And I do know there’s all these people out there who are, as they call themselves, the “San/San” fans, who want to see Sandor and Sansa get together at the end. So that’s interesting, too.

Tom Merritt: The TV show has sort of played with that a little, and probably stoked those fires.

GRRM: Oh, sure. And I’ve played with it in the books. There’s something there, but it’s still interesting to see how many people have responded to it.

[Source]

I played with it but I didn’t get the answer I was waiting for 2.0

JUNE 23, 2015 GRRM Q&A AT THE SCIENCE FICTION BOOKSTORE IN STOCKHOLM

Question: “Is there any fan reactions that you have been surprised by, like is there a character that’s more popular than you thought or have people been shocked by something you didn’t think we would be shocked at?”

GRRM: “I’m reasonably certain what people will be shocked by. I knew that the Red Wedding would provoke a big reaction and it did. I was pretty confident that, you know, throwing Bran out the window and then killing Ned in the first book would get reactions, and indeed they did. All of those worked exactly the way it did to the extent that things that have surprised me, they tend to be smaller things. I guess I… Maybe I should not have, I don’t know. How do I phrase this without getting myself in terrible trouble… I guess I don’t understand women, but I was definitely, you know, way back when, surprised by the number of women who reacted positively to characters like Theon and the Hound as dashing, romantic figures. The san/san kind of thing took me by surprise, I must admit, and even more so the women who, and there are some, who really like Theon. So that surprised me.”

[Source]

Unreliable Narrator 4.0

DECEMBER 2016 ASKING GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ABOUT S@N/S@N

My question is regarding Sansa Stark. Her sexuality has evolved through every book and yet the memory that seems to stick the more with her in this regard is the night of the Blackwater. So I was wondering if you can expand on your view on what this is, since as before that night her interactions with Sandor Clegane weren’t really physical.

The night of the Blackwater, yes. Ahhh… Well, I’m not going to give you a straight answer on that hahaha… Uhmmm, but I would say that ahhh… you know a television show and a book each has its own strengths and weaknesses; there a re tools that are available to me as a novelist, that are not available to people doing a television show. And of course there are tools available to them, that are not available to a novelist, I mean they can lay in a soundtrack, they can do special effects, they can do amazing things that I can’t do, I just have words on paper. What can I do, well I can use things like the internal narrative, I can take you inside of territories… thoughts, which you can’t do in a TV show… Ahhh… You just have the words they speak, you see them from outside because the camera is external, while prose is internal, and I have the device known as “unreliable narrator”… Ahhh… Which again, they don’t have. So, think about those two aspects when you consider that night of the Blackwater.

[Source]

Do with it what you will.

[apotaeose]

The King’s Serpent

Pairing ↠ daechwita king!Yoongi x mercenary!reader

Genre ↠ angst, light smut, tiny bit of fluff 

Word Count ↠ 1.6K

Summary ↠ The ruthless king intends to use his most valuable weapon to consolidate his place on the throne by putting an end to its biggest threat — his twin brother.

Warnings ↠ implications of sex, and like death sentence lmao

A/N ↠ I just had to write something inspired by Daechwita hehe Min Yoongi really is the boss huh? I’m not sure if this will turn into a series or something like that yet. Hope you enjoy it, though! xo 

The king tosses his unsheathed sword on the mattress, his body following next with a soft thud. Turning on his back and surrounded by darkness with only the dim moonlight filtering through the windows of his large bedroom, he’s deep in thought, going over the events of earlier that day. One of his most trusted spies, Jung Hoseok, finally found the location of his long lost twin brother. He can’t help but to smile in triumph. As always, he managed to have the upper hand in the end. The blonde monarch can almost picture the shocking look on his ministers faces. All their jaws dropping entirely upon discovering the sudden death of that village mutt they plan to use as pawn to overthrow him. 

He’s done so much for this kingdom, fought so many wars and won all of them at such a young age, brought in so many riches, yet all they seemed to care is for his unorthodox — but effective —  way of dealing with those who dare defy him. He’s a king in his might, after all. Doing whatever he pleases shouldn’t concern anyone but himself. Who those stupid councillors think they are?

Suddenly, he’s pulled back to the present by an all too familiar sensation. It’s like a mild itch in the brain. He feels like— no, he knows he’s being watched. And exactly by who. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” he says calmly, rising to a sitting position, “It is not polite to keep your king on the wait.”

His gaze is pinned to your figure as you step away from the dark corner next to his window — now open —  and let the moon reveal yourself to him. Dressed in male black robes, you remove your mask and tilt your head to the side, staring at him in slight amusement. 

“Forgive me, my king,” your voice drips with honey, not sounding apologetic at all. “I’ve been busy… with matters related to you, of course.”

He hums, eyes narrowing in disapproval at your words. Normally, he’d slit the throat of anyone who dared to lie so blatantly to his face like that. However, he’s quite used to your attitude, and for some reason, you’re the only one allowed to speak with him in such a way. Till certain extents, of course. Since, he has other priorities at the moment, he can take the time to discipline you later. 

Right now, he’s a king in need to speak with his kingdom’s most skilled assassin. 

“I have a mission for you.” He’s on his feet now, hands joined together on his back. Halting steps only once he stands very close, you can see that he has his attention fixed on the hilt of the sword strapped to your back. Face unreadable as usual. Every now and then, he does that. You know he’s curious about the nature of your fine blade, since it’s a rare one, but never voices any questions about it. Not that you’re interested in telling him about it either.

“Yes, my king?”

“I need you to kill my brother.” His eyes drift back to yours, and if you weren’t… well, you, certainly you’d flinch from the icy fire swirling in his obsidian irises and how he casually just ordered the death of another person. Not a regular one, though. A member of his family that’s been missing for decades. His twin brother. Who’s caused him absolutely no harm. Actually, they’ve never even met since the day they were separated at birth.

But that was all you knew. Almost everybody knows that the circumstances of their birth were highly complicated. Rebels took over the palace when the queen at the same time brought her sons into the world in her chambers. All they know is that, amidst all that ruckus, the queen died and one of her sons was taken away. The king turned into a bitter man and raised his remaining son with the wrath of a dozen tigers. A few years ago, he perished, and his cruel heir, who stands before you now, took over his place.

No one knew anything about the other. At least, not until now.

“Oh, so you’ve found him?” Despite your question, you’re not really surprised. Everything the king wants, he gets. It was just a matter of time. What bewildered you was his choice not to task you with such an important mission this time. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You know I don’t trust you,” He states as a matter-of-fact, reaching to place a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The scar that adorns one of his eyes, a vertical line that goes from above his eyebrow to the middle of his cheek, seems to glitter in the moonlight like the piece of golden jewelry dangling from his ears. You’re briefly hypnotized by it before regaining composure, adjusting your back.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” You pout in feigned hurt, and he smirks.

“You mean, after everything you’ve done for my gold,” He stresses the last two words with an arch of his brow, “We both know your loyalty lies with whoever pays you the highest. Which I, for one, do not judge, if it’s what you’re wondering…”

He brushes your lower lip with his thumb, tracing it along your jaw and descending down your hairline in gentle caresses. Leaning into you, he nibbles your earlobe and pulls at it with his teeth in a way he knows that makes you shiver. “But if you ever so much as think of betraying me,” He continues in a whisper, hand halting its movements before abruptly wrapping around your neck, cutting off your air supply, “I won’t hesitate to have your head severed from your body and hung high for everyone to see.”

Stepping back with a satisfied look on his face, you gasp as soon as he releases your neck and rub at it in order to soothe the burn left by his grip. You stare at him with eyebrows knitted in annoyance but he doesn’t seem to care less. The abrupt change of his demeanor disturbs you more than the threat itself. He’s not the type of man to be messed with. That much is clear. A tiger seemingly calm and controlled in the surface still is a dangerous predator in its core. 

But if the king is a tiger, you are a serpent. 

Cunning and cautious, you know just when to strike. Which is why he also knows not to underestimate you — and also what attracts him the most about you. Sure you are physically stunning, but he’s been with plenty of other dazzling women before, including his queen. However, they all eventually bored him to death. Even though, he denies it to himself, he loves being challenged by a woman. There was something about your sassy behavior and love for danger that lured him in. Perhaps even something that reminded him of himself. The desire for power and willingness to do anything to achieve it. 

“That wasn’t necessary, my king,” you do your best to conceal the anger in your tone, but you know there was an edge to it he surely caught. You absolutely hate being threatened — specially by a man — which is something he knows very well and uses to personal advantage. While others usually show fear, you look as if you’re ready to pounce on him. Oddly, rather than irritated, that makes him highly aroused. “You know I’ll never betray you.”

“For your sake, let’s hope you’re right.” He’s close to you once more, being unable not to touch you every time you’re in his presence. The king licks his lips and begins trailing open mouthed kisses on the column of your throat, one hand at the back of your neck while the other encircles your waist. With a tilt of your head back to give him more access, you close your eyes and melt into his touch. His mouth on you feels undeniably good. But more than that, the power you know you hold on him — whether he’s aware or not — is what truly makes you buzz with excitement. 

“How do you want me to do it?” He pauses to look back at you, pupils blown wide with lust. You’re pretty much sure yours mirror his own. Pondering over your question for a bit, he realises you’re talking about the assassination of his brother, and shrugs.

“However you see fit. Just make sure not to draw too much attention. Sneak into his place and poison him, or slit his throat while he sleeps. I don’t care. Just do it as fast as possible. I couldn’t find him before because he grew up in the outskirts of the city, but now he’s back. It’ll be easy for you to find him.” You nod in understanding and he picks up from where he left, this time attacking your mouth in a hungry kiss that you immediately respond to with same intensity. “Enough with that talk. We can discuss the details later. I need you for something else now.”

You laugh at his impatience and he doesn’t appreciate it one bit, biting hard on your lip enough to draw blood as retaliation. A wince is your response but he’s already pulling your sword out of your shoulders and dropping it to the floor so he can lift your body and do the same to you on his bed. With his body finally covering yours, he starts to get rid of both your clothes and his, desperate to relieve himself and hear your moans echo through his royal chambers as he pounds into you throughout the whole night until you leave before the first rays of sunshine illuminate the palace.

[butterflies-dragons]

oh j0nryas know about balticon report, they just think he was being coy (asdjkahs same delusion with s/ns/ns), that he was rambling bc he was trying not to give spoilers. at this point he could go on live and say "no dumbasses there is no j0nrya, there won't be, there never was" (same w pedoships) and they will all be like "omg it is definitely happening in twow, look at how he's trying to divert our attentions, we are onto you george hehehe"

OK let’s review, again, chronologically, all the times that GRRM was being coy and trying to divert his readers’ attention regarding the ships you mentioned:

The “It could be very different things to each of those involved” Alternative: “Mind you!”

JUNE 24, 1999 THE HOUND AND SANSA

Moreta12: I understand, I’ve heard your opinion on that. In ACOK, it seems that the relationship between the Hound and Sansa had romantic undertones. Is that true?

GeoRR: Well, read the book and decide for yourself.

Moreta12: I’ve read the book and I’ve debated those particular scenes with a few others. Half say that it’s romantic and half say it’s platonic. I’ve taken the romantic stance.

GeoRR:  It could be very different things to each of those involved, mind you

Moreta12:Yes, but it seem like evidence points towards romantic undertones. Will the Hound appear later?

GeoRR: Yes, the Hound will be in STORM OF SWORDS. In fact, I just finished writing a big scene with him.

[Source]

The “Why are you asking me about Sansa’s sexuality?” Alternative 1: “Are you really asking me when your fave male adult character can fuck a girl, 15 years younger than him, without guilt?” Alternative 2: “Why are you so gross?”

OCTOBER 05, 1999 AGE OF SEXUAL RELATIONS IN WESTEROS

The nature of the relationship between Sandor and Sansa has been a hot topic on Revanshe's board. Sansa's youth has been one focus of the discussion. What is the general Westerosi view as to romantic or sexual relationships involving a girl of Sansa's age and level of physical maturity?

A boy is Westeros is considered to be a "man grown" at sixteen years. The same is true for girls. Sixteen is the age of legal majority, as twenty-one is for us. However, for girls, the first flowering is also very significant... and in older traditions, a girl who has flowered is a woman, fit for both wedding and bedding. A girl who has flowered, but not yet attained her sixteenth name day, is in a somewhat ambigious position: part child, part woman. A "maid," in other words. Fertile but innocent, beloved of the singers. In the "general Westerosi view," well, girls may well be wed before their first flowerings, for political reasons, but it would considered perverse to bed them. And such early weddings, even without sex, remain rare. Generally weddings are postponed until the bride has passed from girlhood to maidenhood. Maidens may be wedded and bedded... however, even there, many husbands will wait until the bride is fifteen or sixteen before sleeping with them. Very young mothers tend to have significantly higher rates of death in childbirth, which the maesters will have noted. As in the real Middle Ages, highborn girls tend to flower significantly earlier than those of lower birth. Probably a matter of nutrition. As a result, they also tend to marry earlier, and to bear children earlier. There are plenty of exceptions.

[Source]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 1” Alternative: “The much more important lapse in memory that was promised”

JUNE 26, 2001 SF, TARGARYENS, VALYRIA, SANSA, MARTELLS, AND MORE

[GRRM is asked about Sansa misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword.]

The Lion’s Paw / Lion’s Tooth business, on the other hand, is intentional. A small touch of the unreliable narrator. I was trying to establish that the memories of my viewpoint characters are not infallible. Sansa is simply remembering it wrong. A very minor thing (you are the only one to catch it to date), but it was meant to set the stage for a much more important lapse in memory. You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom… but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it’s a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on.

[Source]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 2” Alternative: “It doesn’t mean what you think it means”

OCTOBER 05, 2002 SANSA’S MEMORY

[Note: This mail has been edited for brevity.]

… this is an inconsistency with ASoS more than an outright error. In ASoS, Sansa thinks that the Hound kissed her before leaving her room and King’s Landing. In ACoK, no kiss is mentioned in the scene, though Sansa did think that he was about to do so.

Well, not every inconsistency is a mistake, actually. Some are quite intentional. File this one under “unreliable narrator” and feel free to ponder its meaning

[Source]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 3” Alternative: “Better ask yourself about Sansa’s psychological state”

NOVEMBER 27, 2007 GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ANSWERS YOUR QUESTIONS

Here’s a really particular question (which I realize means it probably won’t get asked in a general interview): In A Storm of Swords, there is a chapter early on where Sansa is thinking back to the scene at the end of A Clash of Kings when The Hound came into her room during the battle. She thinks in the chapter about how he kissed her, but in the scene in A Clash of Kings, this actually didn’t happen. Was that a typo or something? —Valdora

GRRM: It’s not a typo. It is something! [Laughs] ”Unreliable narrator” is the key phrase there. The second scene is from Sansa’s thoughts. And what does that reveal about her psychologically? I try to be subtle about these things.

[Source]

The “The answer is No” Alternative: NO!

APRIL 15, 2008 FUTURE MEETINGS, POVS, ARYA’S ROLE, EASTERN LANDS, AND ASSASSINS

[Will Sandor and Sansa meet?]

Why, the Hound is dead, and Sansa may be dead as well. There’s only Alayne Stone.

[Source]

The “He’s a lot more dangerous than he is romantic” Alternative: “BUT THERE IS SAM!”

AUG. 21ST, 2009 AS SER JORAH MORMONT… - NOT A BLOG

weltraummuell: The Hound Oh please don’t cast an old guy for the Hound, his scenes with Sansa are so romantic and erotic, I couldn’t bear if it’d feel creepy all of a sudden. Well, that’s me making demands. LOL

GRRM: Re: The Hound Old guy? No, but… the Hound is still a whole lot older than Sansa, and was never written as attractive… you know, those hideous burns and all that… he’s a lot more dangerous than he is romantic.  

kestrana: The Hound Yeah its a “girl always wants the bad boy” kind of thing although Sansa seems to pull something else out of him. It feels so wrong sometimes but I want to see them together again tee hee.

weltraummuell: The Hound Hehe, George, maybe you didn’t intend it, but he turned out to be a very erotic character to female readers. Especially since he’s mutilated and dangerous. Makes him unpredictable and vulnerable which is the most explosive aphrodisiac for a girl’s fantasy. ;)

weltraummuell: The Hound And I know from discussions on other board other women feel just the same about Sandor. He’s an absolute favourite with the ladies!

halfbloodmalfoy: The Hound LOL, you’re such a man. To many of us women, dangerous *is* attractive.

GRRM: The Hound But no one has any love for poor old Sam Tarly, kind and smart and decent and devoted…

[Source]

The “That’s interesting...” Alternative: “They are deeply troubled individuals, Harriet”

22 JUNE 2012 SWORD & LASER VIDEO PODCAST

GRRM: I am sometimes surprised by the reactions, of women in particular, to some of the villains. The number of women over the years who have written to me that their favorite characters are Jaime Lannister or Sandor Clegane [the Hound] or Theon Greyjoy… All of these are deeply troubled individuals with some very dark sides, who have done some very dark things. Nonetheless, they do draw this response, and quite heavily, I think, in the case of some of them, from my female readers in particular.

Veronica Belmont: I’m a big fan of the Hound, myself, actually.

Tom Merritt: Of Sandor? Really?

Veronica Belmont: Yeah, the Hound… Maybe it’s not because I feel any compassion towards them, I’m not really sure what the attraction is. Ah, I’m not going to call it attraction, actually. Let’s just say it’s a fascination, perhaps.

GRRM: [Chuckles] Well, I mean, fascination is one thing, but some of these letters indicate that there really is like a romantic attraction going on there. And I do know there’s all these people out there who are, as they call themselves, the “San/San” fans, who want to see Sandor and Sansa get together at the end. So that’s interesting, too.

Tom Merritt: The TV show has sort of played with that a little, and probably stoked those fires.

GRRM: Oh, sure. And I’ve played with it in the books. There’s something there, but it’s still interesting to see how many people have responded to it.

[Source]

The “I guess I don’t understand women” Alternative: “I'm shook”

JUNE 23, 2015 GRRM Q&A AT THE SCIENCE FICTION BOOKSTORE IN STOCKHOLM

Question: “Is there any fan reactions that you have been surprised by, like is there a character that’s more popular than you thought or have people been shocked by something you didn’t think we would be shocked at?”

GRRM: “I’m reasonably certain what people will be shocked by. I knew that the Red Wedding would provoke a big reaction and it did. I was pretty confident that, you know, throwing Bran out the window and then killing Ned in the first book would get reactions, and indeed they did. All of those worked exactly the way it did to the extent that things that have surprised me, they tend to be smaller things. I guess I… Maybe I should not have, I don’t know. How do I phrase this without getting myself in terrible trouble… I guess I don’t understand women, but I was definitely, you know, way back when, surprised by the number of women who reacted positively to characters like Theon and the Hound as dashing, romantic figures. The san/san kind of thing took me by surprise, I must admit, and even more so the women who, and there are some, who really like Theon. So that surprised me.”

[Source]

The “Comfort level of femininity” Alternative: “That's not a reference for romance”

MAY 29, 2016 BALTICON REPORT 

My con friend asked about the Jon/Arya relationship again and brought her (impressive) Game book that had all of her references marked out with little flags. She brought up the Ygritte connections to Arya that Jon saw in her. George did not directly answer yes or no if there would be anything romantic between the two.

George did say, despite what readers see as clues to a romantic relationship between Jon/Arya in the books themselves, he did not confirm this so easily but inferred that what Jon saw in Ygritte was a comfort level of femininity. <<<  She and I obviously discussed these comments after the meeting and this was the general feeling.

My con friend was referring to George explaining Jon’s perception: GRRM replied, “You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and  a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.”

The “I was making up shit.” Alternative: "I wish I can delete that"

MAY 29, 2016 BALTICON REPORT 

After the Coffee Talk just outside the room:

My Con Friend asked about Arya and Jon again. This time GRRM gave some very pointed replies:

GRRM finished (in the hallway now) by saying that he “wished some past things weren’t such strong foreshadowing,” and that he, “wished some new things had stronger foreshadowing then.”

Friend: Ok, if you foreshadowed something in the first book, like, really cleverly hidden, would you then follow through on that hint? For sure?..

GRRM: “Well, this goes with what I said before, the story changes and expands as I write. I wish I was able to go back and make revised drafts, but that’s not going to happen.”

Here is a transcript of the outline discussion and Jon/Arya portion of the coffee talk:

[question about Jon/Arya]

GRRM: “Alright, you’ve thought about this more than I have. I mean it’s simple, Jon is very fond of Arya. They were the two odd birds in the Stark family nest, here. They didn’t quite fit in with the others, they look like each other, they both had the brown hair, you know, as opposed to the auburn hair of Sansa and Bran and Rickon and Robb. So there was always that closeness between them. And, you know, Arya didn’t mind that Jon was a bastard, and Jon didn’t mind that Arya was a tomboy, so there is that closeness there.”

[question about Jon comparing his lover to his sister]

GRRM: “If he did it, uhm… I began writing these books in 1991, and, uhm, I worked on it in 91 and then I got a tv play, so I put it aside to really work on ‘Doorways’ tv pilot and did a tv show in 92-93. In 94 I returned to it [the books] and worked on it. You know, up till then, in my career as a writer, I’d always written the entire book before I opted for sale. That’s unusual. Most writers do chapters and an outline. They write a few chapters, they outline the rest of the book, give that to the publisher and the publisher says ‘oh okay, I’ll take that’.

“As some of you may have noticed, those who have been paying very, very carefully attention, I’m not good with deadlines. And, uh, and I’m not good with outlines, either. I always hated outlines. So with Fevre Dream and with Armageddon Rag and with Dying of the Light and all my novels, I wrote the entire book. I didn’t do chapters and outline. I sat down, I wrote a whole book, and I sent it to my agent and said ‘Look, here’s a whole book, and it’s finished’. That way I ran into no deadline, it was finished before it even went on the market. And it worked well for me. And my initial thought was to do this the same way, but what happened, you know, was in 1994, uhm, when I returned to it and I’m working on it and I’m very enthused about it and I say ‘I really wanna write these Game of Thrones books as the next part’. But I was still in Hollywood and I’d just lost all this groundwork on ‘Doorways’, I was still in… The studios and networks still wanna work with me, so I’m getting other offers, like ‘We want you to write this movie’, ‘we want you to do another tv pilot’. And, you know, I took a couple of them and was ‘Oh god, I gotta have to put the book away again’. Cause I have no deadline [for the book]. You know, when you think Hollywood, they will give you a deadline, you know, they say ‘here, son, write this movie, we want it in three months’.

“So, I said ‘look, if I wanna get back to being a novelist, I’m gonna have to sell this even though it’s not finished’. So I had my 200 pages of Game of Thrones at that point, but they wanted outline. I said ‘I don’t do outlines. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, I figure it out as I go. And that’s how I always did it.’ No, we had to have an outline. So I wrote two pages, a two-page thing about what I thought would happen. It’ll be a trilogy, it’ll be three books, Game of Thrones, the Dance with Dragons, and Winds of Winter. Those were the three window titles. And, uh, it’ll be three books and this’ll happen, and this’ll happen, and this’ll happen. And I was making up shit.

“And I had thought that those two pages were long forgotten, because, of course, the books did sell. They sold in the United States and in Great Britain, both. They sold for enough money that I didn’t have to take any more Hollywood games. So I was able to say ‘no’ around. I had a few less [?] to wind up in in 94 and 95. Once I had, I said ‘no, I don’t want any more movies or tv shows, I’m going to write these books now’. And I started writing the books. And in the process, I pretty much disregarded the outline. The characters took me off in entirely different directions. So, for 20 years I had forgotten that that two-page thing even existed. And then someone in my British publisher, HarperCollins, they got a new office building, uh, brand new offices, and new conference rooms, big conference rooms that they decorated with books and stuff like that. And they named the conference rooms after the writers, so one of the conference rooms [?], and they put up these plastic display cases, including the outline. The two-page outline, yes. [?], they didn’t ask my permission, they just put it up. And in that two-page outline, Jon and Arya become a romantic item.”

“You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and  a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.””

[someone says they have 5 minutes left]

“You know, I was pretty pissed that that outline got out there. It should not have happened. Outlines and letters like that are meant only for the eyes of the editor. They shouldn’t go on public display. And, uh, they also [?] my papers on [?], all my papers and correspondence. You know, I’ve been sending that stuff there for years, and it’d be, you know, available for future scholars or whatever, just like the papers of many other writers. Somehow, in the back of my head I was like ‘yeah, 20 years after I’m dead some scholar will go in and find them’. They’re going in right now!”   ”

[question if he is still going with the 1991 ending]

“Yes, I mean, I did partly joke when I said I don’t know where I was going. I know the broad strokes, and I’ve known the broad strokes since 1991. I know who’s going to be on the Iron Throne. I know who’s gonna win some of the battles, I know the major characters, who’s gonna die and how they’re gonna die, and who’s gonna get married and all that. The major characters. Of course along the way I made up a lot of minor characters, you know, I, uhm…Did I know in 1991 how Bronn, what was gonna happen to Bronn? No, I didn’t even know there’d be a guy named Bronn. I was inventing him along the way when I was writing, ‘Okay, he gets kidnapped. Let’s see, there are a couple sellswords there, their names are Fred and Bronn’.

“It was actually Bronn and Chiggen, and then one of them dies, I flipped a coin ‘okay, who dies? Chiggen dies, cause his name is stupid. Bronn is a better name, so I’ll keep Bronn’. And then Bronn became quite an interesting character and plenty of these characters take on minds of their own. They push to the front till you [?] speech and you think of a cool line and you give it to Bronn because he’s trying to talk, and now Bronn is somebody who says something cool. [?]. That’s how characters grow on you. “So a lot of the minor characters I’m still discovering along the way. But the mains-”

[question if he knows Arya’s and Jon’s fates]

“Tyrion, Arya, Jon, Sansa, you know, all of the Stark kids, and the major Lannisters, yeah.”

This report appears in the following sources:

fattest leech of ice and fire blog [Source 1]

asoiaf.westeros.org [Source 2]  

westeros.org [Source 3]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 4” Alternative: “I think I had enough...”

DECEMBER 2016 ASKING GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ABOUT SAN/SAN

My question is regarding Sansa Stark. Her sexuality has evolved through every book and yet the memory that seems to stick the more with her in this regard is the night of the Blackwater. So I was wondering if you can expand on your view on what this is, since as before that night her interactions with Sandor Clegane weren't really physical.

The night of the Blackwater, yes. Ahhh... Well, I'm not going to give you a straight answer on that hahaha... Uhmmm, but I would say that ahhh... you know a television show and a book each has its own strengths and weaknesses; there a re tools that are available to me as a novelist, that are not available to people doing a television show. And of course there are tools available to them, that are not available to a novelist, I mean they can lay in a soundtrack, they can do special effects, they can do amazing things that I can't do, I just have words on paper. What can I do, well I can use things like the internal narrative, I can take you inside of territories... thoughts, which you can't do in a TV show... Ahhh... You just have the words they speak, you see them from outside because the camera is external, while prose is internal, and I have the device known as "unreliable narrator"... Ahhh... Which again, they don't have. So, think about those two aspects when you consider that night of the Blackwater. 

[Source]

Most of these questions make me think of Nabokov having to clarified, regarding Lolita, that he didn’t write a romance..........

So there’s that, everyone can draw their own conclusions.  God knows that in this fandom: “We look up at the same stars, and see such different things.”  

Thanks for your message.

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

[Part 3 of ???]

The Lost Civilization

//Baozhai is doodling in a notebook. She drew a picture of the stranger aka Flint with little hearts draw around him.//

Baozhai, sighs in admiration: you're the most handsome man I've ever seen..

Cletus: Why thank you! I always did fancy myself as good-looking.

Baozhai, glares at Cletus: Not you! I'm talking about the stranger I saw from yesterday..

Cletus: Which one?

Baozhai: The handsome one..~

Cletus: ...

Cletus: Erik?

Baozhai: no!

Cletus: Sao?

Baozhai: No... The one that I felt I had a close connection to..

Cletus: Oooh! I know who you're talking about... The Captain is gonna be real mad if he finds out you're attracted to Haggis.

Baozhai: WHAT?! NO! NOT HIM! GROSS DEFINITELY NOT HIM!

Cletus: Well, then who is it?

Baozhai: I don't really know his name..

Cletus: If you don't know who the fuck it is, how am I supposed to know??

Baozhai, frustrated as hell by this point but somehow manages to stay calm: I'm talking about the guy that... Punched me in the face..

Cletus: Oooh... I already knew that I was just fucking with ya' *snickers*

//Baozhai punches Cletus in the stomach. Cletus falls the floor. He groans in pain as he clenches his stomach. Noëmie walks up to Baozhai and lightly taps her shoulder.//

Noëmie: Um.. Baozhai?

Baozhai, turns to Noëmie and annoyed: What do you want Noëmie?

Noëmie: I know almost everyone you talked to about your love interest isn't going to well... But uh, maybe the next time you see him, try to, I dunno... Get to know him more and tell him about yourself..?

Baozhai: ...

Baozhai: Noëmie... did you just give me advice about love?

Noëmie: Um, I think so..?

Baozhai: ...

Noëmie: ...

//Baozhai hugs Noëmie and twirls her around in her arms.//

Baozhai: Noëmie, you're a genius! That's a wonderful idea!

Noëmie: oh my, well, thank you!

Baozhai: Yes, I'll charm him! Flatter him! Make him mine! And if he doesn't accept it... I'LL RIP OUT HIS SPINE, GOUGE HIS EYES WITH A RUSTY NAIL, AND-

Noëmie, cutting her off: How about you don't do any of that brutalizing stuff..

Baozhai, genuinely confused: Why..?

Noëmie: Well if you love someone, you can't threaten them with violence and maiming. Especially when they don't accept your feelings.

Baozhai: Then, what do I do..?

Noëmie: Cry it out, accept thats how they feel, and move on.

Baozhai: That sounds good.. but what if I keep bothering him-

Noëmie: what-

Baozhai: keep professing my love to him-

Noëmie: wait-

Baozhai: and I'll make him mine..! I am such a genius!

Noëmie: Please don't do any of that..

Baozhai: Don't worry Noëmie, I won't do any of that unless he loves me back. You have nothing to fear! Because I am the master of charm 😏 oh! I better go practice putting on makeup.. since I don't really know how.

//Baozhai runs off to another part of the ship.//

Noëmie: ...

Noëmie, shakes head: This is going to end horribly.. I just know it is.

Islay, walking up behind her: You really shouldn't have said those things. Don't ya' realize the captain will take issue with her falling for one of Haggis's crewmates???

Noëmie: Oh dear! How could I forget their fueding..! I hope this infatuation is minor with Baozhai. Who knows what'll happen if the stranger falls in love with her too!

Islay: oh please, you don't need to worry about that. Baozhai has the literal sex appeal of a boat crash. It looks terrible but you just can't look away. I don't mean to insult her but it is true. Can't see any men or women falling in love with her personality or looks. And knowing Baozhai, she's going to do something stupid and dangerous to get his affection.

Noëmie: I mean she is rather distasteful at times but I wouldn't call her that...

Islay: This better not cause any issues. The captain already has enough on his plate with Haggis nearly killing him. But if it does, this'll be on your hands for getting those ideas into her head!

Noëmie: okay..

//Islay goes to help Cletus off the ground. She puts the injured man over her shoulder and proceeds to walk towards the hold. Leaving Noëmie alone on the deck. The dark grey canid poundered for a bit.//

Noëmie: I mean, it's not like Haggis and his crew are following us... Right..?

//And Noëmie couldn't have been more wrong. Because in fact, they were following right behind them... On Haggis's ship, they managed to fix up the hole that Bonnet had caused previously. Haggis was still pissed that Bonnet did that to his ship. He was getting revenge and they were going to pay with their blood. As Haggis navigated the ship, on the deck were Flint and Billy, swabbing the deck.//

Billy, looked over to Flint: So, you and that loony crewmate of Bonnet's... Kinda odd that they stared at you for a pretty long time.

Flint: Mhm.

Billy: ...

Billy: Not gonna say anything about that?

Flint: Whatever happened between me and that man was minor. So, no, I don't have anything to say about it.

Billy: Flint... That was a woman.

Flint, stops swabbing and looks at Billy: what?

Billy: That was a woman. That you also happened to punch. In the face.

Flint: Oh... Well, too late to take it back now.

//Flint walked towards the bucket of water. As he went to dip the mop into the bucket of water, Erik stepped in front of the path of the cabin boy.//

Erik: Hello Flinty~!

Flint: Erik. How disappointing to see you.

Erik: Oh you're such a charmer! Wonder if your little girlfriend thinks so too! *Chuckles*

Flint: What the hell are you taking about?

Erik: Heh, You think nobody noticed you and that little wench making goo-goo eyes at each other?? Because boy, everyone's been talkin about it!

Flint: First of all, he's- I mean, she's not my girlfriend. And secondly, I wasn't making "goo-goo" eyes at anyone. Especially towards someone who looks like they got their nose done by the front door.

Erik: hmm.. well, it'd be a real shame if someone told the captain about those rumors about you and that girl.. and told him they were true. Meaning you'd get punished some more for coercing with the enemy..😏

Flint, rolls his eyes: you want something don't you. Of course you do, I already know you too well... Now tell me what is it???

Erik, grinning: Give me half of yer loot when we find the treasure and I'll keep my mouth shut.

Flint: what if we don't find the treasure??

Erik: Then, I guess I'll have to tell the captain. Too bad you've barely gained his trust from the time you spent on this ship..

Flint: Just in case you didn't know, I loathe everything about you.

Erik, chuckles: Hehe, I know. So do we have a deal..?

Flint, sighs: what other choice do I even have..

Sao, interrupting their conversation: LAND HO!

//The crewmates put their attention forward. A few miles away from them was a planet with lush jungles and plants. Beaches with golden sand with oceans that seem so crystal clear you can see right through them. Not too far in a distance were tall golden buildings, along with statues of different deities. The ship came to a stop, landing near the sandy beaches.//

Captain Haggis, shocked: I can't believe it..

Sao: what is it captain..?

Captain Haggis: Don't you see it... This is the lost civilization of the Paititi! A city that has tons of gold hidden somewhere to prevent colonizers from stealing it..

//Haggis looks through a telescope. He looked towards where Bonnet's ship had landed. He saw Bonnet, what looked like giving his crew orders. Bonnet then pulled out several maps and passed them out to each of his crewmates. Haggis chuckled darkly.//

Captain Haggis: Too bad the "gentleman pirate" and his crew won't be as much as getting a dabloon of that treasure.. Sao, round up the crew and get them ready. I'm making sure they don't leave this place... Alive.

Sao: Yes Captain! Right away!

//Sao made her way down towards where the rest of the crewmates were.//

Sao: Alright everyone, Captain says to get ready.. we're going treasure hunting!

//The crew cheered with joy. Some lifting their swords and flintlock pistols in the air.

Meanwhile on Bonnet's ship, he finished giving out the maps to the rest of his crew.//

Captain Bonnet: Alright with these maps we can all split up into two pairs. They show where hidden booby traps are and how to get to the treasure.

Ironbeard: this all seems like a good idea captain but uh, why are you splitting us up into pairs exactly..?

Captain Bonnet: Because I think I'd be a much more quick and efficient way to do so! And also the twins have been freaking me out lately..

//Ironbeard and Bonnet turn their heads towards the Solace twins. The twins slowly crept their heads towards the rest of the the crewmates. They were holding hands and were side by side to each other. Their eyes looked soulless as they stared at the others.//

Solace twins: A horrible fate awaits to whoever dares to awake the beast's slumber from inside the depths of hell and they'll bring misfortune and misery if awoken.

Ironbeard: ...

Ironbeard: Yeah I guess I can see why.

((Bonnet, Baozhai, Noëmie, Cletus, Islay, and the Solace twins belong to me!

Haggis, Sao, and Erik belong to @chaossmith2))

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Geralt x Injured reader part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Geralt x reader (self insert)

Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, I think that's all?

Summary: Reader is feeling jealous and wanders too far from camp.

*********************

Hey guys! This is like my first fanfiction ever. And I wrote it at like 3am when I couldn't sleep. It's probably trash but if you like it I do have ideas for more! Xoxo enjoy****

Geralt x injured reader part 1

Jealousy was not a pretty color on you. And you swore riot yourself it was no such thing. After all Geralt of Rivia was just a teacher/friend you were travelling with. You had some skill with a sword, he found you trying to take down a kikkemora all by yourself, and failing miserably. After you saw how skilled he was you begged him to take you with him, to train you. He said no of course, so you just kept tagging along without his consent. At some point though he finally decided that if you were gonna come along you might as well be of some use so you made a deal.

Over the months you grew stronger but still had much to learn. After all it takes years for anyone to become a great fighter. And luckily for you, Geralt had many many many years of experience to offer you.

You enjoyed the time you spent togther, the conversation, (although you did most of the talking..) and the training, he was one of the few people in your life you felt comfortable with. Someone you could always count on. And somewhere along your travels the line between student and teacher blurred for you into something else, although you did your best to deny it at first.

You had gone off and caught feelings for the man who had no interest in real committed relationships. You knew you had it bad when you found yourself overflowing with irritation when he spent his nights in the arms of some whore at a dirty brothel.

On those nights you drank until you passed out on roach. Pretty fucking pathetic y/n.

Then came along the witch, Yennefer..

You saw how they looked at eachother, a look you'd wish Geralt would give you even for a fleeting moment.

There were creatures that had been attacking the villagers at night, so the three of you, well four since Jaskier decided to tag along when he spotted us, were tracking these monsters into the forest. You didnt mind Jaskier at all, his songs a welcome distraction from the obvious growing bond between Geralt and Yennefer.

You felt horrible for the animosity you felt towards her. She did nothing wrong and you hated that if not for your jealousy, you probably would have been close friends.

If you were a better women you could get over your silly crush and focus on your training but...

Yeah you had some growing to do. After searching the forest for a few hours, and finding nothing, everyone was tired and decided to set up camp.

Once Geralt tied down roach, he turned to address the group, "Everyone is to stay in camp, these monsters are dangerous, so if you need to take a piss, I suggest you do it behind a tent, unless you wanna risk getting your head shot off" he said rather gruffly.

Jaskier made a sound of discomfort and scooted closer to the fire.

"Dont worry jaskier, I'll protect you" you giggled.

He turned to you in amusement, "Ah yes how does go the training y/n, last I saw you, you could barely lift your sword" he teased.

"I've gotten rather good, mind if I practice on you?" You teased.

"Thanks but I think I better go and get my beauty sleep, good night" he smiled and retreated into his tent.

You went to feed roach some apples when you noticed that Geralt and Yennefer had dissapeared.

Huh? Where did they go? At first you thought they were in trouble since you didnt hear either of them say goodnight but as you got closer to the middle of camp you heard voices coming from Yennefers tent.

You told yourself not to look but you couldn't help it. And the instant you did you felt your heart break. It was one thing to see him in the arms of a whore. You knew they meant nothing to him, but in the arms of someone he cares for? That hurt...

Roughly you turned away from the kissing couple and marched away. Away from camp, away from stupid feelings and dumb petty jealousy.

It was not yennefers fault she was beautiful and powerful and brilliant. And if you were jealous then you should become just as amazing as she is. Maybe then he would notice you...

You were snapped out of your reverie when a rustle in the bushes caught your attention.

Fuck I was not supposed to leave camp...

Thinking quickly, you unsheathed your sword and held it at the ready. Its sharp edge gleaming in the moonlight.

Eyes narrowing at the bush. A moment later you were relived when a rabbit hopped out.

Phew I thought It was--

*SCRAWWWWWWWWCH*

Fuck

You barely missed the creatures slimy claws as it swiped for your head. Jumping to the side you managed to get a good look at the beast. It was rather large and spider looking, with several disgusting sets of beady eyes and a long slithering tough that dripped of something purple. So geralt was right, the creature lurking here was a visser. (Completely made it up on the spot) They're claws are sharp and quick but it's the tongue you have to watch our for. One jab, although not fatal can leave a man in bed for days from pain. 2 jabs in the same place? then your a goner. And the visser is known to be smarter, he distracts with claws and jabs quickly before you can even blink.

You knew you should probably yell for your companions. There was a chance they could hear you. But that very second you thought of yennefer and how she would be able to take on a monster like this.

That made up your mind...this monster was going to be your kill... youd finish this off and prove that you had gotten stronger if it's the last thing you do.

Although that would kind of defeat the purpose...

"Urgh" you landed roughly on the ground, one of its claws managed to swipe at you.

"Ok no more misses nice gal" regainging your stance, the glint of the moon shone on your opponent. With a visser you had a few options. Option 1, go for the head which kills instantly but the risk of a jab is highest.

Option 2 is cut off all the legs quickly then send your sword through the head. But if it dodges... you're dead meat.

Option 3, try to get under the beast where its tongue cant reach you and strike upwards. With your small stature option 3 sounded the smartest. You just had to move fast enough where it wouldnt be able to see you for a split second.

Alright y/n dont let your training go to waste! This is your chance to prove yourself.

Running faster than you've ever ran before, you circled around the visser waiting for when the creature was even a second slow and could not see you. The right moment was.....

Now! You sprinted forward and slid under its legs.

"Scrawaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaachh" the monster howled in pain as you slammed your sword directly up getting covered in visser guts in the process.

"Blegh how disgusting.." you swiped the guts off your face and stood in front of the slain beast.

For once in a long time you felt proud of yourself. You slayed a monster all by yourself, even Geralt said you hadn't been ready yet and often told you to stay back during fights. But he would have to eat up his words now hehe. You could just imagine everyone's faces when you would tell them.

You were too wrapped up in your glory to notice a second visser sneaking up behind you.

By the time you heard its screech, it was too late. Its slimy black tongue had struck your stomach leaving a sizzling pain behind it.

"FUCK" unsheathing your sword again, you tried to maneuver far enough out of its reach to thing of a plan. There was no way you could pull on option 3 again with the way your core burned. One more jab and it would be over. Damn it! why couldn't you just have your victory and be done with it!

One hand clutched at your injury while the other was positioned weakly in front of you. Your eyes blurred slights but you refused to let this shit swamp be your final resting place.

The burning subsided to an ache and you used that opportunity to make a mad dash into the thicket. You needed to think of a plan and quick, it would not take long for the visser to catch up with you, especially now that you had that stupid injury.

"Srawwwwwwwwwch" it sounded like it was right behind you. Fuck fuck fuck.

And then because mother nature decided to be a BITCH, you tripped on a large tree root and tumbled forward.

"Scraeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech" you flipped over quickly and shut your eyes as the visser was basically on top of you. 3 more seconds and you would be dead.

3, how pathetic y/n, after all these promises you made to yourself about becoming someone worth being proud of you fuck up the one chance you had.

2, maybe it's better this way, would anyone even miss you? Jaskier would, maybe he would even write a song about you..

1, I'm sorry I was an idiot...Geralt I'll watch over you...

"SWOOOOOOOOSH" the unmistakable sweet sound of metal slicing through flesh made your eyes shoot wide open.

"Geralt!" He stood out of breath hovering over the now beheaded visser. His sharp golden eyes moved from the beast, to you.

Without a word he reached over and pulled you up without a hint of gentleness. You hid your wince at the sudden movement. Not wanting to let anyone know that the visser had gotten the better of you.

"What happened" he bit out slowly. Fuck he was angry. "Why did you leave camp y/n when I explicitly told you not to" his feline eyes bore into yours and suddenly you felt too intimated and looked away.

Ah yes what excuse will I come up with now. Sorry Geralt I had to leave because I felt immense pressure and heartache seeing you and Yennefer over there locking lips and most passionately I might add.

When he noticed my hesitation he let out a growl, "Hmm, don't lie to me"

Fuuuuuuuuuck...

"I-I didnt mean to, really... I couldn't sleep so I was walking close to camp and I didnt even realize I had wandered so far until the other visser attacked." You looked him in the eyes knowing it would better your chances of him believing it.

He stared at you a few more seconds before letting out a sigh.

" You killed it" he said bluntly, and softer than before.

"I did.." you couldn't help the small smile that formed on your face. He sighed again, this time he had a small smirk on his face, "Well I guess you have learnt some things after all" he patted your shoulder but pulled away when Yennefer and Jaskier appeared.

"Y/n thank god your alive, are you alright?!" Jaskier grabbed your shoulders and scanned you for injuries. Luckily your stomach was covered by your armor, visser Jabs were known for hurting like hell at first, seeming to get better shortly after, then coming back tenfold. Right now you were at stage two, the calm before the storm..

Yennefer made a comment about how impressive you were to slay the visser and you hated yourself for still feeling ill towards her. She was a great person and you could not blame Geralt for liking her. It was just an unfortunate situation.

The walk back was quiet and the second you were in your tent again you dared to take a look at the wound. Gingerly you unbuckled your armor and lifted up your shirt.

You let out a small sigh of relief. It just looked like a large bruise. Nothing you couldn't pass off as a "I fell off roach" kinda injury.

As positive as you tried to be, you knew the worst was yet to come. But by god you were not about to let your victory be ruined by your companions knowing of this. Especially since Yennefer and Geralt could've slain the beast without a scratch.

Somehow you were lucky and slept the rest of the night in peace. It was early when jaskier came to wake you. Although you slept plenty, you felt just as exausted as you did after your late night encounter.

Before putting on your armor, you dared to look at the wound again. You regretted it the moment you did.

Fuck me... the bruise was much darker than before and covered a larger area. As for the pain, it felt only slightly more sore which was good for now. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to find out about it.

Quickly you threw togther the rest of your things and met the others. According to the village leader there was one more visser out there so we continued our search deeper into the forest. It was around noon when the pain intensified. It started as a constant dull ache but gradually became a burning sensation. It was becoming harder to hide it.

You made up some excuse to the group and sat on top of roach. You were sure if you had to walk anymore you would have fallen over. Luckily for awhile jaskier was more preoccupied with his latest ballad and geralt and yen were wrapped up in some serious conversation. You didnt realize how far you were lagging behind until jaskier turned to you.

"Y/n?" He walked over to you and pulled on roaches reigns making him go a little faster.

"Hm" was all you could manage.

"Are you alright? You're sweating so much"

Confused you ran a hand over your head. He was right, you were and didnt even feel it.

"Yo- sic- rest-" what? Why was Jaskier talking gibberish...and why is he so blurry?

You didnt even feel yourself pitching to the side, just the woosh of air through your ears.

"Y/N!? Y/N what's wrong?!?!" Jaskier barely managed to catch your half conscious form. "GERALT!" The witcher swung around sword at the ready but widened his eyes in shock at what he saw.

Y/n was on the floor, breathing heavily and being propped up by Jaskier.

Geralt and Yennefer quickly ran over. The witchers eyes narrowed in concern when he saw the state of her. She was sweating profusely and looked to be struggling with something. Yennefer raised a hand to her forehead but shook her head. "Its not a fever".

Geralt held her up, lightly smacking her face, he grew even more worried when she didnt react.

"Jaskier what happened"

"I don't know, I noticed she was falling behind so I went to check on her, then I noticed she looked sick, I was telling her we should stop and rest but then she just collapsed. She seemed really out of it too.

At that moment a grunt of pain escaped y/n's lips, and her eyes slowly opened.

You were confused as to why when you opened your eyes, gerald's golden ones were staring at yours with intense concern.

"Y/n can you hear me??" he questioned furrowing his brows.

"I-I ahhhgh" you screwed your eyes shut as the pain intensified. It felt like someone had set your stomach on fire.

This only confused geralt more, "you're hurt" he said as more of a statement.

"Where is the pain y/n," the gentle voice of yennefer surrounded you. Ugh why couldn't she just be a bitch, it would make things so much easier.

You tried speaking but a moan left your lips instead. Fuck this hurt worse than anything you had encountered before.

Geralt closed his eyes as if he had a sudden realization, "you got hit by the visser didnt you"

When you didnt speak but he saw the look in your eyes he knew it was true. "Fuck".

Quickly he began removing your armor and saw the injury peeking from under your shirt. He wasted no time lifting it up just until below your chest. You heard small gasps but were too out of it to know from who.

"Fuck y/n, why didn't you say anything??" Geralt scolded as he examined the wound.

Luckily you didnt have to answer, just focus on breathing heavily.

"Will she be alright?!" The frantic voice of jaskier floated through your ears.

"It would have been better if she told us from the beginning, with a visser attack you need to stay still as much as you can. However by the looks of it she only got hit once, which means she still has a chance."

"What can we do?" Was it yennefer or jaskier who said that?

Geralt pulled a sack from roach and rummaged through it till he pulled out a yellowish filled bottle.

Lifting y/n with one arm he pulled the cork with his teeth and gently placed it between her lips. "Drink y/n" without a second thought you downed the strange liquid coughing as it burned your throat like liquor.

"What is that?" Jaskier asked curiously.

" it's for the pain, it'll make her feel like shes dreaming." Geralt threw her armor onto roach and lifted her up carefully into his arms. "Let's go" he ordered and the troup was once again on their way. Geralt gave one look at the now sleeping y/n and sighed. What was she thinking?

***************************

When you opened your eyes the first thing you did was let out a girlish laugh.

Geralt was surprised for a moment since you had been silently resting in his arms for a long time. "Y/n?"

"Geralt! You've dyed your hair pink! How adorable!" You reached up and pulled at the cotton soft locks.

The witcher sighed, knowing this was the effect of the medicine. Jaskier and yennefer let out a small laugh at the scene of the two.

"Go back to sleep y/n, you need rest" he commanded softly.

"GERALT!" you suddenly exclaimed! "Oh no you cant be the white wolf anymore! Oh no oh no oh no WAIT I GOT IT! YOU CAN BE THE PINK PONY! QUICK JASKIER WRITE THIS DOWN!!"

"Ah yes the witcher, pink pony of the north, has a nice ring to it" jaskier couldn't contain his laughter.

Geralt decide it best to ignore her and keep walking forward.

"Geralt?" He chose to ignore her again. "Geralt....?"

"Gerrrrrallllllt?"

"GERALT!"

"Geralt geralt geralt geralt geralt geralt"

"What?!" He bit out annoyed.

"Do you think I'm pretty? hehe" he was caught off guard and was not sure how to answer. It didnt help the other two were just giggling behind him.

"I um....yeah" he said awkwardly.

"So I dont look like a troll?" You asked earnestly.

"Pfft what?" Now geralt was the one who couldn't control his laughter.

"Don't laugh!" You suddenly pouted. "A long time ago one of my lovers said I looked like a troll when he broke up with me.."

Still amused geralt shifted you to meet his eyes, "No y/n, you do not look like a troll"

"Phew thank god, I dont know what I would have done..." you laid a hand against your head dramatically.

"Now will you please stop squirming and go back to sleep" geralt sighed out.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmm......alright I've decided to go to sleep since I need sleep and it's what I have decided" you saluted the air.

"Finally.." he grumbled.

With a smile you reached both arms around his neck and brought your soft lips to his unshaven cheek.

"Goodnight pinky, sweet creams" he was shocked for a moment then let out an exasperated laugh.

"Goodnight y/n...sweet creams"

******************

To be continued in part 2!

[antihero-writings]

His Butler Cemetery, Chapter 3: The Problem of the Nights

Fandom: Black Butler | Kuroshitsuji (manga)

Fic Summary: Four visits to the cemetery, each growing in emotional intensity, and spanning backwards in time. (Spoilers for the manga!!)

(I'll put the links to chapters 1 & 2 in a reblog!!)

Chapter Summary: “Young Master, Edward. If something you held most dear suddenly shattered one day...What would you do?"

"Dear, God. What a terrible ordeal you've tasked my sister with...."

Character Focus: Edward and Lizzie Midford

Notes: Eyyy remember this fic? The one I planned to finish in October 2018? Hehe...Yeah...

I never forgot about this fic... life just kinda got in the way and I moved on to other things. I have so many fics on my computer that I just can't seem to figure out how to finish, and this chapter was one of them. Lately I've been trying to go through some of them and either just slap an ending on them, or split them into multiple chapters so it's more manageable, haha. So I just picked a way to end it, even if I'm not entirely satisfied XD

I actually really really like Edward as a character, and was kind of inspired by the quote above to write this. I was excited to write for him for this fic, and really really liked this chapter, so I couldn't go without posting it at some point!!I hope people still like it, even though it's been so long...I'd deeply appreciate it if you could leave a comment to let me know!!

By the way, I am NOT caught up on the manga, so please don't spoil anything from the recent chapters for me!!

Chapter 3, the Problem of the Nights:

Edward never could win against her.

Father would laugh and say that the Midford women had always been strong, and it was no cause for shame.

Still, there’s something particularly humiliating about getting your ass kicked by a cute little girl….Especially when she’s your younger sister.

The world would coo over her: her pretty shoes, her curly blonde hair, her frilly dresses, and sigh in awe that someone so cute could be so skilled with the sword.

And, if he was perfectly honest, she was incredible. He would never deny that, never say the praise was undeserved. Often he was her biggest fan, her loudest cheerleader, and if anyone dare lay a finger on her, or say a single syllable of slander, they’d certainly have a sword to answer to.

And, he supposed, her proficiency was good for him too, in a way, because it pushed him to work harder.

But no matter how many days he spent waking up early to wave his sword at empty air, no matter how much mastery he had compared to his classmates, he could never catch up to her. Sometimes it felt like the race was rigged, and he wasn’t moving at all.

He applauded her, admired her.

But sometimes he would throw his sword into the wall and demand that it listen to him. That he, a thirteen-year-old boy could and should be better at swordplay, than a ten-year-old girl who decorated her world in pink plushies and bonnets.

When the other nobles chatted with Lizzie, and about Lizzie, and then turned to him to ask what he’d been doing, sure he had a story to top hers…

Sometimes he would hold his head high and boast of his accomplishments, and Lizzie would have only the loftiest of compliments to add.

But other times that question would ring through his head, and his tongue would fall limp in his mouth.

Because no matter how much he’d done, if he was the top of his class, he could never triumph Lizzie.

What have I done lately? Not much compared to Lizzie.

Mother was not the kind of person who would answer for you; unlike most mothers she wouldn’t boast of her children smallest accomplishments. In fact, in even their greatest endeavors she could find “room for improvement.” He wasn’t complaining: this too was a good thing; he would never be where he was now without that.

But sometimes he just wished she would just wrap her arms around him and say that she was proud of him.

There was Father at least, who was the softie of the family. Who would clap him on the back and tell Francis not to be so hard on him, that he’d done more than well. His eyes would shine as he promised he was a champion in his own right, as well as his eyes. And that helped. Still…

Still, he didn’t feel like much.

It wasn’t that he was bad at things, or dumb. He was quite smart, good at school, but he didn’t…excel.

The thing about Lizzie is that there were only a few things she practiced, but she excelled at them.

Jack of all trades, master of none, so they say.

And no one notices you unless you’re very good at something, or very bad at it.

So he faded into the background. Lizzie’s cheerleader. His parents’ son. And he told himself he was alright with that.

Beneath all those intermingling feelings of pride and jealousy was a question:

How could such a small girl hold so much fight inside her? How could those gentle eyes hold so much fire?

It didn’t make sense. She was supposed to be sweet, and gentle, and soft. So what was it that drove her to get the gold when he could only ever snag second place?

He got his answer when he met Ciel.

The twin boys, one of whom she was destined to marry—some day, after they had learned how to be gentlemen in a world of men who weren’t gentle.

Well he couldn’t approve of that without meeting him first.

The twins were…so small. Smaller even than Lizzie. Big blue eyes like stormy days.

One marched up to him and demanded who he was, and what he was doing there, and that his name was Ciel, and he was to be the Earl some day. The other, hid behind his father’s pant leg, and muttered his greeting from afar. And when Mother scolded Mr. Phantomhive to keep them in line, and comb their hair properly, even the bolder one shirked into the shadows.

He finally understood what Lizzie had that he didn’t:

Something to protect.

When he took up the sword, it was for the sake of the sword itself, and a name.

When she took it up, she did so for something more than the trade, the passed-down-name, the skill. The sword was a means, not an end. There was something—someone—she loved, or was learning to at least, and if that person were ever threatened, she didn’t want to stand on the sidelines and cry. She wanted to stand between him and danger and do everything in her power to keep the hurt at bay.

She didn’t care about being well-versed in the sword: she just cared about protecting him. The sword was simply how she’d do that. And, well, the irony of being something is that you’ll only be good at it when you’re looking beyond it.

And it was that, that passion, that idea that there was something beyond, that this was all in preparation for a war against anything that stood to harm him, that was why she excelled. Because he didn’t have anything calling him to it, besides the fact that the Midford’s had always been good at it. As long as he didn’t have a reason for it within himself, he would never excel.

So, from then on, he never complained, silently or aloud. From then on he was nothing more than her firmest supporter, and when people asked what he had done lately, expecting his story to top hers, he could be okay that he would never be better than her at some things.

And then, one snowy December, when they were putting their finishing touches on their Christmas tree, and competing to make the best cookies, someone arrived at their door to tell them they found Mr. and Mrs. Phantomhive in a pool of their own blood…and the twins…they didn’t find.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t immediately burst into a thousand shards of glass like he would have expected.

He would have liked it better that way. Because he could deal with that. Because he could do something, he could run up to her, hug her, kiss her, comfort her. Be the big brother.

No, the Midford women had always been strong, and she was no exception. She didn’t fall to pieces. She went into her room, put on a black dress and bonnet—(as was proper). And she went to the funeral, as all good little noblegirls should.

And all throughout the service, as they lay Rachel and Vincent to rest, beside two little graves they all knew were empty, as the vicar read from a Bible a passage about sheep, and finding your way home, he kept glancing at her, kept waiting to see the tears to stream down her face, for her to fall to her knees.

Her eyes were big, and blank, and full of almost-to-the-surface tears, yet she was sugar and spice and everything nice; the picture of an English noblewoman.

She went about her day, whole, composed, proper. And no one could have guessed that grief wasn’t another thing she excelled at.

But he’d never quite forget that night. The sound he heard, even through the passing years.

That night, after the funeral, after mother sent her off to bed with a few proud words, and father kissed her one to many times, after Edward grabbed her hand and asked “Are you sure you’re okay?” After she said “Yes, I’ll be fine.”—

He woke up to the sound of screaming.

He shot up in bed, wondering if he’d dreamed it, heart yammering, breath burning. He didn’t bother to light a candle, just stumbled out of bed, and ran down the halls, calling her name.

When he reached her room, she was sitting on the floor beside her bed in her little white nightdress, and tear tracks staining her face; in pieces. A perfect gold stain on the world.

She reached her hands weakly out to him as he knelt down before her, and wrapped her arms so tight around him that he thought she might break him too…and she cried into his nightshirt until she stained it. But he didn’t care.

Many little girls run to their parents in this situation. But he knew, if she had gone to their parents, mother would have told her there was no use crying, they weren’t coming back, and father would have doted on her, and she wanted neither…or rather, something in between. So she came to him.

This wasn’t the last time.

During the day she would go about her life as normal.

But every night she woke up. It was always somewhere between 14:00 and 16:00 he heard her screaming, calling the name of the sky. Either that, or he would hear a faint knock on his door, and see the face of a broken little girl in need of her big brother.

It became muscle memory for Edward to comfort her. To throw off his covers and run to his sister’s room, or he would pat the blankets beside him to say come here, and either way he’d wrap his arms around her tight, as if trying to wring the tears out of her, and she would sob until they burned rivers in his skin. He would brush his hands through her golden hair, whispering things in her ear like shh, and it’ll be okay, and singing old lullabies, all the while knowing knowing the quiet would come. And he would pray. Pray that things would be okay. Pray that the one who created the universe would grant some solace to this sweet little sheep.

He would pray, and the next day, with tears barely barred from his own cheeks, he would kick the wall, and demand why and how a merciful God could do this to someone like her. Why he would take good people from the world.

—(He would pray, and he thought one day he heard Him say They aren’t yours to keep.)—

Sometimes she asked if they could go to the cemetery in the morning. They would dress in their finest blacks, looking like ink blots on the world, onyx with gold filigree in the cracks. She would carry bouquets of flowers, the petals sifting off in the wind, and add them to those there, left by the miscellaneous others who cared for them…And she wouldn’t cry then, no. She wouldn’t cry until it was past the witching hour.

She didn’t give up. Didn’t stop living. For all intents and purposes she was the same as she’d always been…but something was missing when they crossed blades.

She woke up less and less as time went by. Eventually her visits to his room were stray nights in the grand scheme of things, and she didn’t cry so hard. Sometimes she’d just sit with him, or ask to play chess, or chat with him till the morning came.

And then one day, after the grief didn’t burn so badly in her chest—

Her fiancé came back without an eye, and with a pitch black butler.

He didn’t talk about what he’d gone through, or how he’d come back. He didn’t speak of that day his parents died. He didn’t mention how his brother died—he didn’t mention much of his brother at all.

He wasn’t that brazen, bold, grinning child they knew before. He was dark, and serious…and he never smiled.

And Edward was glad to have him back…yet from the start he couldn’t help but feel…uneasy. Like something was wrong. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There were too many questions, too many gaps in information, and the darkness that seemed to flock to this boy now didn’t help.

And Edward, though Lizzie’s fire was only stronger since he came back, her skill even more unmatchable, was at last able to get a few good hits in sometimes.

He couldn’t believe he never saw it before, his reason beyond the sword, the task of carrying on a name... it was there from the beginning.

He knew who it was he had to protect.

[frayedcobweb]

Character Creation Tag

Woot, so I was tagged by the incredibly creative and lovely @honiewrites. It’s taken me a while, but I’ve finally sat down and done it :) I’m using this Character Creation post to tell you all about Edana and Cait, two kick-ass women in my wip Stillcity.

1) What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.?)

Edana - Her appearance was probably first, intertwined with her relationships as Dorrell’s sister and Ciaran’s aunt. As a redhead myself I may have made her a kind of self-insert at first, but she’s actually much cooler than I’ll ever be.

Cait - Cait was interesting as she started out as a mention in another character’s backstory, but then the main story demanded that she get a larger role and she may yet take over Book Two. Cait’s own backstory was the first thing I knew of her.

2) Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

Edana is Dorrell’s sister and they are very similar, both in personality and appearance. I also came up with parts of Edana that I thought would work well with her nephew Ciaran’s personality.

Cait started as a childhood friend of Torin’s, so she had to be someone he would get along with. She is also quite similar to Ciaran for reasons that I still need to properly flesh out.

3) How did you choose their name?

Edana’s name follows my decision to use Celtic/Gaelic inspired names and means ‘fire’. It fits with her red hair and her fiery temper/character.

Cait’s name was originally inspired by an amazing woman I knew called Ceit (pronounced Kate). I didn’t know until a while after naming her that it means ‘pure’.

4) In developing their backstory, what elements of the world they live in played the most influential parts?

Edana - She has lived all her life in the Middle Tier of Stillcity, so she is very work and home focused. Due to issues beyond her control she has had to put her own wants aside for most of her life and so, even though she would love to, she has only been out into the Undulating Lands a couple of times. Something key that has shaped Edana’s backstory is the role of women in Ryxian society. Although she would probably make a kick-ass soldier thanks to her brother teaching her how to use a sword and bow, the Royal Guard is for men only.

Cait grew up in the Slums, the lowest tier of Stillcity, and had to fight to survive from a very young age. There are dangers in the Slums that don’t exist elsewhere in Stillcity and surviving these dangers shaped Cait into someone very tough and able to take care of herself and others. Also, when she was young Cait was fascinated by stories of the Mother of Many Faces (another name for the Undulating Lands), which she learned by heart during the minimal schooling that was available in the Slums. This led to her wish to become a Lorekeeper and learn all about the mysterious world beyond the walls of Stillcity.

5) Is there any significance behind their hair colour?

Edana - Yes. As I said, I too am a redhead, and she has the same color hair as her brother.

Cait - I’m not really sure. Cait has black hair, just because.

6) Is there any significance behind their eye colour?

Edana has blue-grey eyes, again similar to Dorrell. And me lol.

Cait has brown eyes, but again I’m not sure why. I think I need to think about Cait a bit more.

7) Is there any significance behind their height?

Edana is tall because I wanted to give her some presence and because I wish I was taller. Damn this self-insert.

Cait is pretty short because I wanted her to be a tiny, feisty firecracker. And she is.

8) What (if anything) do you relate to within their character/story?

I relate to Edana’s wish to change her life and do something that she enjoys and is good at. Rather than just something she is good at. I also relate to her struggles to be seen as equal to men in arenas commonly (and/or formerly) reserved for men only.

I relate to Cait’s obsession with knowing more about the world and understanding why things are the way they are. She also got teased as a child about her height and tries to make up for it by being energetic and larger than life in other ways.

9) Are they based off of you, in some way?

Hehe I think they both are in slightly different ways. But I think most of my characters have different parts of me in them.

10) Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

Yes. Both Edana and Cait are straight.

11) What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: Writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Argh, I hate that I can’t draw my OCs. I do paint and draw, but not people. I’m tempted to learn to draw people just so I can create rudimentary images of the characters that seem so real to me.

12) How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

I haven’t finished planning out canon, so I can’t really answer that. I do have lots of backstory for them both though, so technically their stories go back beyond the current canon...? Lol does that even make sense, or does that just make it canon?

13) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

Edana could very easily be a Mary-Sue. I think I’m avoiding it (might need a beta/editor to tell me though). Additionally, in my rewrite I need to flesh Edana out a little more in regards to the society she lives in and the attitudes of the people she has to deal with.

Cait probably needs a revisit to make sure she isn’t Mary-Sueing everywhere. She is pretty awesome. Also I need to remember her struggles in the past and how they might affect her in the now.

14) What is something about your OC that can make you laugh?

Edana is pretty damn sarcastic. She always notices when people are getting a bit full of themselves and likes to bring them back to reality.

Cait is just a cheeky smartass and gets some great lines because of it.

15) What is something about your OC can make you cry?

Edana’s issues as a woman in a mostly man’s world gets me a bit emotional. It’s affected her life in a big way, not positively.

Cait is so empathetic, something I can identify with. When other characters are getting beaten up (by me) she hurts with them.

16) Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

Nah, but I will be doing more fleshing out so I obviously regret not adding stuff.

17) What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

Edana was one of the first characters I created, so I’ve known most things about her for a long time now. Ummm, it was probably that I need to add in some events to connect her with the societal norms/prejudices and how they impact on her in the future.

I recently discovered that Cait has peripheral connections to the Stillcity underworld. Being from the Slums she was exposed to it early, and I realized recently that this is something she’s held onto because she is of the mind that you use every resource at your disposal.

18) What is your favourite fact about your OC?

I love that Edana is a brilliant archer. (Just a note, I came up with her before the movie Brave came out. She seems pretty similar to Merida, but that is coincidental.)

Cait is eternally intrigued by the world around her and is a fount of interesting information. She also became a Lorekeeper through sheer determination and force of will, something that not many women, let alone women from the Slums, manage.

Tagging... Ummmm... @luna-evans-writes @sapphireclawe @vhum @knightsofeclipse and as usual, anyone else who wants to do it that I’ve forgotten. If people get sick of being randomly tagged then please message me and let me know. Or tell me the best way to set up a tag list.

[ghosta-r]

1-70, Dragon ask

O.O omg someone actually did it. alright here we go. this is gonna take a while.

how would you handle living on Berk? well, it would be a huge culture shock for a while, obviously. it would take me a while to get used to not having wifi and running water. but i think in the long run i’d like it! they were simpler times, after all. also adventure. can’t get adventure like that in the 21st century, can we?

how do you think you’d be different if you grew up on Berk? i think my mind wouldn’t be as cluttered. i think i would live a simpler life. i would likely still be enthusiastic and creative and kinda weird, but in a very Viking way.

yaks, chicken, or sheep? um... i guess sheep? i’d probably have one that i’d just hang out with all the time and talk to like it was a cat or something lol

the chicken is not amused. what did you do wrong? i procrastinated homework that’s what

favorite dragon species? don’t ask me that. it’s like trying to pick a favorite cat breed! i don’t care what kind it is just give me all the kitties!!! same with dragons. i love them all.

what type of dragon would you like to ride? is that different from the dragon you’d most likely ride? um... i think i’d like to ride a Triple Stryke or a Deathsong or a Flightmare. something unexpected! but i’d most likely ride a Gronckle; probably all i could handle.

how would your first flight on a dragon turn out? maybe with me flopping down on my back and simultaneously wanting to fly every minute of my life and to never fly again.

on a scale of Snotlout to Hiccup, how are your dragon riding skills? on that scale i am Dagur. just dicking around like a maniac until i figure it out.

would you get into trouble on Berk? it depends. i’m not exactly a daredevil and i’m not an inventor of potentially dangerous weapons. looking at you, hiccup. but no matter how much i try to stay out of the spotlight i manage to do one or two things wrong so yeah i’d probably get into minimal trouble

would you try Astrid's yaknog? yes, out of politeness. then, if i’m brave enough, i’d critique it. without getting punched in the face.

coolest dragon? NIGHTFURY

scariest dragon? the Screaming Death. that thing is freaky. of course i did once make up a giant spider dragon but that’s not canon so it don’t count

most unique dragon? i’d say the Triple Stryke! it’s like a scorpion pokemon and i love it so much

favorite dragon class? uh.... i guess Strike class?

suggest a new dragon species. what does it look like? what are its powers? SPIDER DRAGON!!! well, technically it’s called the Arachnid Vilehide. it looks similar to a Deathsong, only in dark, dull colors with no bright decorations, and it has eight long skinny legs and wings that it can fold into special flaps on its back. also it’s got a couple different venoms; one to put prey to sleep and one to kill prey.

if YOU were a dragon, what would you be? oy. i have no clue. maybe a Terrible Terror.

any underappreciated dragon species you want to give a callout to? GRONCKLES!! they are so sweet and pure and so overlooked!

what do you think Stoick does with all his wooden duck carvings? maybe he’s creating them for his future grandchildren. hehe

the dragon riders can visit anywhere in the world, any place in history. where would you suggest they go? ah....... maybe the Lewis and Clark expedition???? cmon, exploring a mysterious new land? hiccup loves that shit! 

you, Hiccup, Snotlout, and Tuffnut are now roommates in an apartment. how well does this work out? alright i feel like hiccup would be a decent roommate. snotlout and tuffnut on the other hand would not. tuff would probably keep his space fairly contained, but he’d just do a lot of weird shit. i don’t know

you, Astrid, Heather, and Ruffnut are now roommates in an apartment. how well does this work out? alright this would be pretty cool. since we’d all be girls, it wouldn’t be so weird. plus it would be easier for us to bond. girls nights!!

what do you think the dragon riders are like as old women and men? uh... like themselves but.. slower, quieter, and weirder.

which character do you relate the most to? definitely Hiccup. we are both restless explorers. we are both discovering who we are. we are both compassionate, but at the same time take no shit. we are awkward and know we’re a little weirder than everyone else. we are adventurers and stubborn rebels. 

how well do your know your dragon stats? not at all.

who would you want to spend a day with? who would be your best friend? HICCUP.

how would you handle the twins' pranks? Loki'd! i would be very annoyed with them at first. but then as i get used to it i would learn how to retaliate.

you and Snotlout are on patrol together. what happens? Snotlout tries to flirt with me and i ignore him. 

which character would you get along with the least? ah... maybe Snotlout. i don’t know, i kinda get along with everyone so idk

anyone on Berk you'd date?  I hear Bucket is single... maybe ruffnut? she’s so pretty!

axes, swords, hammers, bows and arrows, or maces? i think bows and arrows. i’d suck at close combat!

what would your house look like on Dragon's Edge? homey and cozy. i’d have lots of space for my hobby activities (painting and embroidery, probably) but also special spaces where i have my books, candles, blankets, and pillows just so i can chill there in the evenings. 

what is your favorite house on Dragon's Edge? i think the clubhouse, actually!

what's your favorite island? (outside of Berk) uh i guess Dragon’s Edge? it’s a cool lil place.

favorite villain? i think Viggo. he is definitely one of the most compelling villains i’ve ever seen, and not just in httyd. sad to see him go! i hope he’s not dead.

how would you handle being kidnapped by the Outcasts? i would barely be able to handle it at all. you know, panic and stuff. i’d kinda just hide in wherever the Outcasts put me while i wait for Hiccup to come save my sorry ass.

give the dragon riders superpowers. what can each of them do? um.. Hiccup has actual wings and can fly. Astrid has super strength. the twins can predict anything that will happen in the next hour. i don’t know what the rest of them have, i’m tired

favorite track in the HTTYD or HTTYD 2 OST? i love the track Flying With Mother from httyd2. hiccup is such a mama’s boy!

favorite ship? HICCSTRID. but i also have a soft spot for Dagcup.

favorite friendship? i love Hiccup and Snotlout’s friendship. 

favorite dragon-rider duo? the twins make a great duo. i love them.

favorite secondary or background character? DAGUR! does he count?

suggest a new pairing. why would it work? ah.... maybe Ruffnut and Dagur? they’re both pretty weird but also have lots of strengths. also they are cinnamon rolls. i think they’d make a really cute ship.

I want these two characters to spend more time together... definitely Hiccup and Dagur.

come up with a crack pairing. um.. Snotlout and Fishlegs. idk it’s off the top of my head.

have any HTTYD OCs? YES!!!! i have an OC named Glacier who was once a forager of dragon root for Viggo. eventually she figured out what the dragon root was being used for, so she quit and ended up joining the dragon riders, but not without a lot of hardships along the way. anyways she ends up breaking off completely from her abusers and rising above her fear to defeat them.

suggest a new AU (or mention an AU you like). i’ve recently been getting into a pirates AU! i’ve only just started so it’s really new but i like it a lot

suggest a new crossover (or mention one you like). um idk i’d really like a crossover with Voltron. i think it would be fun!

list off your top three fandoms. now combine them with HTTYD. what would the crossover be like? um, Gravity Falls (a wormhole in time and space makes the dragon riders fall into Gravity Falls), Ghostbusters (the ghosts of the dragon riders are looking for the ghosts of their dragons and the Ghostbusters end up helping them do so), and Voltron (the dragon riders are targeted by Zarkon and Team Voltron protects them). 

list off any three of your fandoms and combine them with HTTYD for the weirdest crossover you can think of. but i just did that! 

do you think any of the dragon riders have children? have any headcanons about the next generation? i have many headcanons. but my favorite is that Hiccup and Astrid end up adopting a little girl and her younger brother when their village is completely destroyed by an unknown enemy.

favorite thing about your favorite character? i love how compassionate Hiccup is. he tries to avoid bloodshed if he can and that’s why he is so pure.

tell me a character and I'll give you a headcanon. um.. i don’t really understand this one.

tell me a character and I'll give you a favorite quote. ???

tell me a show, movie, or movie short and I'll tell you a favorite scene. ?????????

have you read the books? if so, which book is your favorite? i’ve only read a handful of them! but i loved How to Be a Pirate. i’ve gotta finish reading them!

suggest a DreamWorks Dragons episode plot. um... Hiccup is kidnapped by pirates and held for ransom. idk i think it might be a fun episode.

who's an underappreciated character and why do you appreciate them? RUFFNUT IS SO UNDERAPPRECIATED. did you see how badass she was in “Twintuition”??? she’s fuckin awesome!!!!

you have to give each of the dragon riders awards. what awards do you give everyone? to Hiccup: most near-death experiences without actually dying. to Astrid: supreme queen of badassery. to Snotlout: not as big of a jerk as you could have been. to Fishlegs: sweetest nerd in existence. to the twins: best secret geniuses. to Heather: 

who has the best hairstyle? Heather! i love her braid.

should Hiccup, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Tuffnut grow beards? .....nah.

who has the best outfit? i’d say... Hiccup. he just looks great

how would you react if Snotlout started hitting on you? roll my eyes and ignore him. 

how would you react if Ruffnut started hitting on you? i think i would instinctively blush!

do you know all the lyrics in "For the Dancing and the Dreaming?" yes. yes i do. i may or may not mouth the entire song to myself in the shower. 

let's be mean. how do you think each of the dragon riders will die? in an ideal world, they’ll all die of old age surrounded by their loved ones. but most likely, some of them will die by murder, maybe by recklessness, maybe by accidents with dragons. i honestly don’t know. do i even want to know?

how did you enter the HTTYD fandom? officially? well, it was June 15, 2014. i had just seen httyd2 in theaters with my family. i cried in the theater and i was blown away by how incredible it was. so, as i do when i’m blown away by a movie, i checked out the tag on tumblr. what i found was an amazing fandom filled with such sweet and talented people. that was the day i joined the fandom. 

when did you enter the HTTYD fandom? as i said, June 15, 2014. 

what made you fall in love with How to Train Your Dragon? i think it was the sense of adventure and wonder, and the idea that the person who didn’t expect much of himself and was different from everyone else was the one who changed his entire world. that’s inspiring.

what is something you didn't initially think about but grew to love about HTTYD? probably all the meta that goes with the series. there’s deeper things behind what you initially see. once you see it, it’s beautiful.

what is the BEST thing (to you) about HTTYD and its franchise? the best thing? i’d say it’s the characters. they’re really deeply created. they have flaws, fears, and goals. i just love how they’re written

wow that took forever. 

[gunsfrhands]

here are things about me that nobody wanted to know, but i wanted to answer

1. What is your name? ELLEN 2. How old are you? 20 3. Are you sure? ??? /?? ? ? ? ?? 4. What is your earliest memory? something that is pink 5. What is your favorite alcoholic drink? i don’t drink, gurl!!!!!!!!!!!!!

6. What is your favorite vegetable? the humble potato 7. Do you remember your first day at school? ya 8. What is the worst exam result you remember ever getting? 50% for both year 12 maths methods exams lolol 9. How tall are you? 5'5  10. Can you swim? splish splash! yep! 11. Who is your favorite movie actress? i really don’t care 12. Who is your favorite movie actor? ibid.  13. Who is your favorite comedian? bo burnham ? idk

14. Who is your favorite politician? hmm i disagree a lot with this q. i agree with a lot of politicians and i think some are cool and interesting people, but having a “favourite politician” would be putting them on a pedestal?? and like when u do that it makes it harder to disagree with them when they have a BAD opinion on some issues. i don’t think that’s good. i think we need to always be critical of politicians no matter how groovy some seem. 

15. Who is your favorite historical figure (been dead for at least 100 years)? Louis XVI ! :O :O Tsar Nicholas II (even tho he’s only been dead for 99 years), Charlotte Corday!, Woodrow Wilson (BTW by “favourite” i’ve interpreted that as mOST inTeresting, i don’t necessarily think these historical figures were good people loL especially wilson ahhhh i just think his contribution in beginning wwii was super interesting, especially how wilsonian principles like self-determination influenced different nations, i think he wasnt a super great dude tho lol) hmmm, some more probs but i cannot recall at this time. 

16. Who is your favorite super-heroine?jessica jones ?? idk & idc 17. Who is your favorite super-hero? idc at all lol 18. Can you name a female scientist other than Madame Curie? yes lol omg ?????? jane goodall, marie pasteur, rosalind franklin ?? (even tho marie curie is my fav tho <3 ) i feel like if people don’t know about female scientists they NEED to do independent research bc they really don’t teach much at school !!!!!!! and the contributions of women throughout history are so important obvs. 19. Who is your favorite mythological god or goddess? ooooooo tricky tricky !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! athena is cool but idk if fave ??? i just like mythology itself and not specific gods in particular reallyyyyy

i deleted questions 20- 30 bc they were so weird lol 

31. What is the worst movie you have ever seen? omg last night i watched spy kids 4 , and it’s so bad that it’s past the point of being so bad that it’s funny (such as the room and birdemic, u feel?) this was just bad bad.  32. What is the worst TV show you have ever seen? i do not watch tv shows that are bad lolol 33. What is the worst book you have ever read? idk New moon mayB 34. What is the worst song you have ever heard? idc 35. What is the worst sport you know of? what do u mean by worst tho lol idk i dont have interest in many sports so idc enough for this q 36. Who is the worst movie "star" ever? i really don’t care about celebrity culture 37. Who is the worst comedian ever? idk, u feel ? it’s like... i have never witnessed ever comedian EveR so idk who is the worst, i feel like i would need to do extensive research to answer this.  38. Who is the worst author ever? there are plenty of bAD authors. i feel like i wanna say zoella lol. but ultimately, see above Q.  39. Who is the worst musical act ever? IDC 40. Who is the worst sports "star" you have ever seen? i dont understand so GOodbYE 41. If you could go back in time to witness an historical event in person, what event would you want to see? signing of treaty of versailles ??!?!?! i would say russian rev but that could be dANGERous ://////// 42. If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go? my bed, goodnight! 43. If you could meet anyone in the world, who would you meet? idc bc i feel like i could say a few different bands but ultimately, they don’t know who i am and they don’t care. meeting them would make me feel like OMG for a few mins, and then that would be it. i would think it was fun, they would forget me after 1 day and again, this weird kind of idolisation... i don’t think it’s healthy. people are just people. sO if i could meet anyone in the world, i would want to meet someone who is nice and who would ultimately become a nice and close friend for me! 44. If you could become famous for one thing, what would that thing be? bEING IN A BAND PLz 45. If you could buy anything regardless of cost, what would you buy? like how with genies you use ur last wish for infinite wishes, so like i would buy infinite money and i would get trapped in some kind of capitalist money loop where i am spending infinite money to buy infinite money. i think that would be cool  46. If you could change any one thing about your country, what would it be? ONE thing ?????? i live in australia, i would remove politicians like pauline hanson, dutton, joyce, morrison, abbott, frydenberg lol they would all just disappear from the public eye forEvER. OR even better i would LET REFUGEES SETTLE HERE , if u dont know , australia is literally THE WORST pls read up and learn about how inhumanely refugees who try to come to australia are treated. it’s awful http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-06-14/manus-island-why-are-asylum-seekers-suing-the-commonwealth/8610482

47. If you could change any one thing about international politics, what would it be? really. REALLY. I feel like this is so obvious that im not even going to say anything. thanks ok 48. If you could meet any famous person who is dead, who would it be? idc  49. If you could become dictator of the world, would you? a benevolent dictator sURE but UMMMMMM as much as i think i am cool and right about everything, i would for sure become corrupt, so no thanks.  50. If you could eat an entire cow at one sitting, would you? no thanks! 51. Have you ever illegally downloaded music/TV shows/movies from the net? I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT LIMEWIRE IS I SWEAR 52. Have you ever used illegal narcotics? no 53. Have you ever gotten any points on your driving license? i’ve only done 8 houRS on my L plates lol so NO 54. Have you ever stolen anything from a shop? nop 55. Have you ever bought alcohol or cigarettes while underage? nop 56. Have you ever bought alcohol or cigarettes for another person who was underage? nop

57. Have you ever tried to cheat the taxman/social security/other government agency? i don’t have any money lol idek how to pay taxes hehe

58. Have you ever ridden on a train or bus without paying? perhaps 59. Have you ever been arrested? nooono 60. Have you ever been charged with a crime ... ? nononoo 61. What's the furthest you've ever been from home? euROPE but idk which country in europe that i visited would be geographically furthest from australia... UK probs?? 62. Where have you visited that you would like to go back to? EVERYwhere in europeeee 63. Where would you like to visit that you haven't yet? stonehenge!  64. Where is your favorite place in the world? my bed, goodnight! 65. Where have you visited that you hope never to go to again? greece, i went in summer summer and air was hard to breathe and hot idk museums were cool but not again soz greece xoxo 66. Where would you definitely never go to? idk a bunch of places lol 67. Where is your least favorite place in the world? how would i know! hMM! 68. What is your favorite way to travel  ? my own two feet i really don’t like any other kinds of transport bc i am scared of trusting other people to transport me 69. What is your least favorite way to travel? boat maybe lollol 70. deleted bc idgi 71. What was the last movie you saw? spy kids 4 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!L O L 72. Was it any good? i answered this above ahhhehhhaehehaeo 73. What was the last book you read? a storm of swords 74. Was it any good? ya i guess 75. What was the last song you listened to? HUMDRUM BLUES BY THE GROWLERS 76. Was it any good? YESYESYSES! 77. What was the last computer game you played? Dolphin Olympics!!!!!! 78. Did you do well? Yes 79. What was the last meal you ate? gnocchi 80. Was it any good? nah

81. Do you believe in God/Goddess/Gods/Goddesses? nah 82. Do you agree with the war in Iraq? nah 83. Do you believe in aliens? liKE.... does it really matter what i think???? what ever i think doesn’t change the reality. but YA 84. Do you agree with the theory of evolution? OfC

85. Do you believe in reincarnation? ?? nA h ??? 86. Do you agree with the idea of the UN? United Nations (UN)? ya i guese ? ??  87. Do you believe in karma? meh 88. Do you agree with the theories of man-induced global warming? IT AIN”T JUST THEORIES GURL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAs

89. Do you believe in democracy above all other systems of government? hmmm ya  90. Do you agree with Freddie Mercury when he sings "Fat-bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go round"?  w hh at a 91. What is your favorite movie?  SCHOOL OF ROCK. SCHOOL OF ROCK. SCHOOL OF ROCK. SCHOOL OF ROCK. 92. What is your favorite book? Animal Farm (ik im a cliche shh) 93. What is your favorite song? difficult question bc having favourite things is a bit weird imOP! buTTtttttt i will say rn it is proBS Tell it how it is, by the growlers, but that is just my fav like for this week, it will change soon lolol 94. What is your favorite city?  where i live ? lol idk 95. What is your favorite sport? NETBALL 96. What is your favorite place in the world? IDK and IDC!!!!!!!!!! 97. Are you glad these questions are almost over? I LOVE ANSWERING QS but all of these ones were pretty weak so yes 98. What are you going to do next? sleep 99. Do you anticipate this activity being fun? yesyeysyeyses 100. Give us a quote to end on...”i’ll kidnap a thousand children before i let this company die” - Mr Waternoose.