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#i am however almost done with the next chapter :3
webbyghost · 11 months
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Your Doug Davis fic with Mina? *Chef kiss* One of the best fics I've ever read in my life <3 I love it.
Oh my god???? Thank you, this is so sweet ;_;
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delicatebarness · 3 months
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cry baby | epilogue
Summary: Cry Baby went on a date? And, it was with Bucky?
Warning: Fluff. Mentions of John Walker.
Word Count: 977
Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI
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A/N: And that's it, done. Thank you to every single reader of this story. Thank you all for your input, your comments, and your requests. I know you all fell in love with Cry Baby as much as I did and I couldn't be more grateful to you all. As you know, this isn't the true end of Cry Baby and I will be revisiting it (technically this is only the first draft) however, I will take a small break from these two idiots until August to work on my other stories. So, if you want to check them out too, please do! I love you sweethearts. - B
Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst
Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan
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The next few weeks felt like a dream. You spent every available moment with Bucky, rediscovering each other. It felt as if you were meeting for the first time, yet, the deep connection you shared made you feel like you were home. 
On the night of your first official date, Bucky knocked on your apartment door. He stood waiting with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Your smile grew as you saw him, his usual confidence mixed with a hint of nervousness. 
“You ready?” he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. 
You held the pink motorcycle helmet he had bought you, matching his grin. “Ready.” 
The roar of Bucky’s bike and the warmth of his presence made you feel at ease as you rode to the restaurant. Your heart sank, and your smile faltered as you saw which restaurant he had brought you to. The same one as John Walker had almost a year ago. 
Bucky noticed the change in your demeanor, reaching out, he placed a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to him. “Hey, you okay?” 
“Yeah,” you took a deep breath, trying to mask the discomfort. “It’s just… this place brings back some memories.” 
“I know,” he spoke softly, his eyes filling with understanding. “That’s why I brought you here.” 
Confused etched its way to your face, clouding your gaze. “But why? Why would you bring me to a place with such bad memories?” 
His voice was earnest as his hand moved to cup your cheek. “I hoped we could create better ones, replace those memories with new ones, ones that we make together.” 
The apprehension you felt dissolved as your heart melted from the sincerity, and genuine hope in his eyes. “You really thought about this, didn’t you?” 
He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I want to turn all the places that once held pain into places filled with joy and love.” 
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew the verdict before he could ask. They were tears of happiness. “Bucky… that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 
He took your hand, leading you toward the restaurant, stopping only to open the door for you. The ambiance felt different this time, the evening already felt lighter and full of possibilities. Bucky pulled out a chair for you as you both sat down.
As the night progressed, you immersed yourselves in conversation, sharing stories, and laughing as if you were strangers on a first date. “All I could think while he was talking was ‘I don’t even like steak, John!’” you exclaimed, recounting the details of that date with John to Bucky.
Bucky listened intently, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned forward, reaching his hand across the table– interlocking his fingers with yours. “Well, we both know how that ended up for him, Sweetheart,” he chuckled, his thumb gently caressing your own.
“Do you remember the first time you called me ‘sweetheart’?” you asked, fondness sparkled in your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. 
Bucky smiled, squeezing your hand gently. “Of course I do,” a small chuckle escaped his lips as the memory of that night entered his mind. “You were only eight years old, but you were terrified of the Ferris wheel… such a cry baby,” he teased, his smile turned into a playful grin. “You clung to my arm like your life depended on it.” 
You left out a soft laugh as he continued. “You looked up at me with those scared, teary eyes, and I couldn’t stand seeing you so frightened.” 
“You took my hand,” you began finishing his story, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “And told me, you would keep me safe, no matter what. And, you did, Bucky, you always have.” 
With a gentle look in his eyes, Bucky smiled. “Hey, wanna ditch this and go to the carnival now?” 
You nodded eagerly with a laugh. “Absolutely.” 
~
The carnival was a whirlwind of lights and waves of laughter. Once again you both rode the Ferris wheel, but this time, it was different. This time, you weren’t afraid. And, instead of closing your eyes when you reached the top, you gazed into Bucky’s for a moment before closing the distance between you and placing a gentle kiss against his lips. 
As the night came to an end, Bucky rode you back to your apartment building. You both content in each other’s presence as the ride was filled with comfortable silence and the city lights blurring around you. 
Bucky walked you up to your apartment, the carnival’s excitement lingered in the air as you felt a twinge of reluctance to part ways. 
“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” you said softly, turning to face him after you unlocked your door. 
He smiled warmly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Anything for you,” he replied. 
Without a word, he closed the distance between you as his lips found yours for another time that night. This time, the kiss deepened, wrapped in each other’s arms. 
As you broke apart, his eyes filled with unspoken affection as they met yours. “Good night, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with emotion. 
“Good night, Bucky,” you whispered back. 
Bucky watched as you closed the door, reluctant to let go of you. As he waited a few seconds, his mind spun from the whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and the joyous turn of events.
Then, just as he was about to turn away, you opened the door again, revealing your smiling face. You pulled him back inside, without a word, your lips meeting his in a passionate, desperate kiss. 
And as you melted into each other, he guided you further into the apartment, his foot pushing the door closed behind the both of you.
---
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ozai-the-bonsai · 16 days
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Memento Mori
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: strong language
A/N: This is a shorter chapter, I hope to make up for it in the following one, which is planned to include more moments between Daemon and the reader. Enjoy!!
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Daemon found you standing in front of the Weirwood tree the next morning.
“Do your people not sleep?” He asked as he approached you. “Or is it something special to you?”
A soft giggle left your lips as you turned to face him, your long hair swaying with the wind. “Everyone needs sleep, Daemon Targaryen, even us,” you responded, your eyes meeting his purple ones. “Though you are right that I did not sleep last night. There were things to be done.”
“Are you going to inform your King of these things you are talking about?” Daemon asked with an arched brow, you could tell he was trying to test the waters, to see whether your loyalties laid blindly with him.
You spoke with a warning tone. “As I told you last night, I have no king, Daemon.” Only a fool would fail to sense the wind changing around you as you spoke, the words left your lips sharply. “I am no men, hence I am neithersubject to your customs nor to your monarch.”
From the way he clenched his jaw, it was obvious that Daemon was trying to keep his temper under control – from what you had seen the night before in your visions, even the slightest bit of effort he gave in the name of anger management was a tremendous step. “Even you cannot roam the Seven Kingdoms, doing what you please, without answering to the monarch, Lúthril – if you live in these lands, you have to obey its rulers.”
He spoke the words with a hard tone, putting emphasis on almost each one, all the while his huge frame towered over yours, in an attempt to assert his dominance. Of course, such a manner could have very well worked in the past; however, you were an ancient enchantress of the purest and the mightiest race the world has ever seen – no men could intimidate you. Not even the Heir of the Dragon.
As a response, you took a step towards him, looking up to meet his gaze with determination in your eyes. “I do not intend to stay long,” your voice was low but your words carried a different kind of power. “You are my last mission in this world – afterwards, I shall join my brothers and sisters in the land of eternal peace and harmony.”
Daemon looked at you for a while before speaking, his warm breath was licking against your forehead each time he exhaled. “You are a strange kind of woman.”
You did not say anything.
Upon hearing the footsteps approaching, you stepped away from Daemon as both of you turned to see the person. As soon as her emerald eyes found your graceful figure standing beside the King Consort, horror was visible on Alys Rivers’ face. “No, no, no, no!” her voice was becoming louder each time. “This cannot be true.” Quickly, the witch turned her gaze to Daemon. “What have you done?!”
In the blink of an eye, the Dark Sister’s sharp blade was against Alys Rivers’ throat, pinning her at her place. “Watch your tongue, witch.” Daemon spoke with an ice-cold tone, resembling that of a king at that very moment. “Do I have to remind you whom you are talking to?”
Gently, you placed your left hand on Daemon’s arm, causing him to lower the Dark Sister as his gaze travelled to your face which seemed to shine with an unearthly glow under the rays of the sun. “We both have known for long that this day was coming, Ingolme.” You addressed Alys Rivers as witch in the language of your people. “You should have prepared yourself better.”
Alys Rivers shook her head in disappointment, her emerald eyes traveling to Daemon. “You have no idea what you are tempering with.”
Before giving Daemon the chance to talk, you started walking towards Alys, causing her to straighten her back, standing in an alarmed way. “I do not recall having harmed you, Ingolme.” You spoke to her with a voice sweeter than honey, the air circling around you was causing the skirts of your dress to move around your feet. “I have given you no reason to fear me. You have another motive.”
As the wind got stronger, messing with both Daemon’s and Alys’ hair, it started whispering in your ear everything you needed to know – it was a gift from the Gods. The wind told you what was motivating Alys Rivers in keeping you locked away and you had to admit – she had every reason to fear you. As long as you were alive, free and by Daemon’s side; only the one-eyed-death would visit her on her path.
“Such a pity,” you muttered after the strong wind left its place to a soft breeze. “All these years of experience and yet, you still believe you are capable of changing the fracture points in one’s destiny.” You tilted your head to the side. “Has the story of how my people vanished not taught you anything at all?”
The shadows started to grow under Alys’ feet, becoming taller with each passing moment, making their way towards you. “You think you are so clever, enchantress,” Alys spat out the words as if they were venom, “but you are not one of us – you are a stranger to the games that are played here. Your magic alone cannot win the game of thrones.”
With a swift movement of your fingers, you let the celestial light radiate off your body so strongly that not only the shadows faded away but Alys and Daemon had to shield their eyes. Before the conflict between you two could get any further, Daemon interfered, his strong voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Enough!” His voice echoed around you, scaring away the birds. “I will not allow this nonsense any further. Witch, leave us alone.” His last words were directed at Alys, who sent you one last deadly glare before hurrying into the castle. Her words, however, flowed into your mind, only for you to hear.
You may have his ear for now, enchantress, but no one holds a dragon’s loyalty for long.
It was hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes – it was clear that at some point in the future, the witch of Harrenhal was going to bother you to a great extent – unless you somehow found a way to put shackles around her powers.
As soon as Alys Rivers was gone, Daemon turned to face you with fury in his purple eyes once again. “I do not need your magic to win any game – the throne will be mine through fire and blood.”
Your voice was tranquil as you spoke, the celestial light was gone now. “I never told you that I intended to win the throne for you, Daemon.” A strand of hair was falling in front of your eyes. “My sole purpose here, right now, is to advise you, guide you through your path but only if you will let me.”
The stubbornness was dripping from his words. “My fate is not something for you to shape.”
“The Gods have already woven the threads of your destiny, Daemon, but your choices will determine which path you follow. I can only help you see the way away from death and misery —if you are willing to look.”
Your words seemed to take Daemon by surprise, he was unable to hide the fear falling onto his eyes as he put away the Dark Sister. “You have seen what awaits me?” He asked with a low voice, the sudden change in his attitude was almost scary. You nodded. “Can you… show it to me? The way you showed me your past?”
A bitter smile formed on your lips as you took a step towards him, resting your left hand against his right cheek. Daemon didn’t push it back. “It is forbidden to speak of those I have seen, let alone show them to you.” You took a deep breath. “When the time comes, the Gods will show you everything you need to know.”
When he felt that you were getting ready to pull your hand back, Daemon placed his right one on your own, caressing the back of your hand. You pressed your lips against each other. “If I allow you to guide me, what guarantee do I have that you’re not leading me to ruin?” Daemon’s words were nothing but a mere whisper now – the fierce man was gone.
“There are bigger things at stake – bigger than you and me, than this hateful war of your family… Leading you to your ruin would have echoes far beyond you yourself, Daemon. It would be the first step in unleashing chaos on all of us, I cannot allow that to come pass.” With much willpower, you pulled your hand back, only to miss Daemon’s touch right away. “If it is more to your liking, you may think of me as your advisor -as all kings should have one.”
The edge of Daemon’s lips curled upwards, wind playing with his silver hair. “I believe everyone else here, in this cursed castle, shall know you as my advisor as well, Lúthril.” You both started walking towards the castle with slow steps. “If anyone should ask where you are coming from…”
You didn’t let Daemon finish his words. “I shall tell them it is none of their concern.”
A small laugh left Daemon’s lips, a sound so pleasant to the ear that it left you yearning to crawl into his arms to let his laugh embrace you. “This attitude of yours,” he said, “I find it amusing.” You sent him a warm smile, unaware of how Daemon carved that smile in his memory to recall it each time he found himself missing your company. “As my advisor, what do you suggest I should do next?”
“Your first step should be gaining the support of the riverlords by making up for the massacre William Blackwood and his men wrapped around your neck as an amulet of guilt.” You responded, not realising the way Daemon stopped abruptly as you walked through the corridors of the castle. “You need their bannerman – there is no other way to raise an army here… What is wrong?”
The absence of the footsteps following yours caused you to stop as well, looking back at Daemon, who stood a few meters behind you. He had a troubled expression on his face which was quite difficult to decipher.
“How do you know about William Blackwood and the massacre?” He asked, keeping his voice low. “You were still invisible in the dungeons when all these happened.”
The edge of your lips curled upwards. “The Gods reveal what they will, past and future alike.” You responded, causing Daemon to frown. “Nothing is hidden from their gaze—or mine.”
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lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me · 5 months
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⋆୨♡୧⋆bitchless era ending soon⋆୨♡୧⋆
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walking into the meeting room y/n couldn’t help but internally scream. what the hell was he doing here? why didn’t her manager tell her about this? especially since she was just in practice and didn’t have time to dress up and hopefully look not a hot mess. her mouth dropped open in shock, resisting the urge to yell “what the fuck” in front of everyone. after a moment of awkward silence her manager spoke up. “y/n meet riki, riki meet y/n. you guys will be working together from now on. we set up this time for you to meet and talk and get to know each other.” she gestured to riki’s manager, “we’ll be going so you two can talk freely. have fun!” the two left and left riki and y/n alone. while y/n was having her internal panic, little did she know, so was he. the moment he saw her he knew he was fucked. after heeseung gave him no help, he had no idea what to say to her. “soo…” he said “your debut was really good!”. y/n didn’t know what to do. her celebrity crush of 3 years, just complimented her music. all that she could muster was “uh- thanks you too”. thanks you too???? why the hell would she say that? he laughs slightly, not being able to help but think about how cute she was. “um are you excited to start mcing?” she asks, nervousness clear in her voice. he smiled, “yeah i am, what about you?” she tried her absolute hardest to not say something stupid again and said “yeah! just a little nervous though. i’ve never done anything like this before.” riki saw his opportunity, he knew he had to take it. even though he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. “we should hang out sometime. i’ve done it a couple times before, i could give you some tips to make it easier!” no. fucking. way. too many thoughts were running through y/ns head. did nishimura riki really just ask her to hang out? there’s no way this is real. never did she think that this would happen “uhhhh- yeah! yeah sure that would be fun!” whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck “okay nice! how about tomorrow?” whatshappeningwhatshappeningwhatshappening “yeah sure. that sounds perfect” holy. shit. cha y/n is hanging out with nishimura riki. “okay, ill see you then” riki had never been more nervous in his whole life. he couldn’t wait to shove this in all of his members faces. “im sure you have to get back to practice, right?” there was no shock as to why he knew that, she looked like a sweaty mess. “yeah, actually. i do. so i’ll see you then!” she overthought her every word, and move. how could she not when she’s around him. to her, he was perfect. “see you around!” riki left the room and practically ran back to his dorm. that couldn’t have gone better. y/n however, was freaking the ever living hell out. “did nishimura riki just ask me out? no that’s not possible we just met eachother! it’s friendly! that’s all!” after what felt like hours of contemplating she decided to go back to the dorm, tweet about it, and tell taesan and jaehyun. i mean, how was she supposed to go back to practice after something like this?
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luckys note!: i’m sorry this took so long guys!! schools getting crazy since it’s almost the end of the year. but i hope you enjoyed the first written chapter! this is my first time like, actually writing so i hope it turned out good!
© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
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dorabledewdroop · 7 months
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The White Healer Chapter 4
Note: Hi guys, I'm really sorry for not posting sooner. I've had a couple of family problems and haven't exactly been in the best headspace. I'll work on posting more frequently. I hope you like this chapter, it's longer than other's cause there's so much I wanted to put out there.
Warnings: Blood, graphic description of injuries, angst.
Summary: Just a chapter where everyone gets to know reader better.
Series Masterlist
X--X--X--X--X
As it turns out, the team building activity that you were dreading turned out to be Jenga. While unsure how it built team character, it did work on making your more comfortable with the rest of the team. Due to you still being new to the team, you had requested a month to work out by yourself so that you could get back into shape. As horrible as the scientists had been, they did teach you an efficient way to get into peak performance. Working out from 12am till 5am everyday was good enough. Within the third week, you had already noticed the definition of your muscles, you’d put on pure muscle mass, and your stamina plus healing ability enabled you to sprint approximately 20 miles without stopping. It was going well until one day, you were working on the punching bag and were so focused that you lost track of time. It was 7 am when Natasha and Steve returned from their daily run and saw you workout. You hadn’t noticed them due to the music playing out loud. Natasha, however, saw you and immediately ran towards you. You were brought out of your headspace when you saw Natasha grab your arms, unshed tears forming as she stared at your hands. Steve stepped closer and was horrified to find the ground and punching bag covered in blood. Upon closer inspection, he found your hands caked in blood too. You looked at them confused.
“What?” You asked concerned, completely unaware of why they looked white as a sheet.
Natasha and Steve looked at you with wide eyes.
“Why are you covered in blood y/n?” Natasha asked, letting go of your arms now that you’d stopped punching the bag and brought them to her sides.
You looked even more confused.
“I was going to clean it up when I was done?” You said uncertainly.
“Is this… common for you?” Steve asked slowly.
You hesitated for a moment. Natasha seeing your clear discomfort of being caught off guard came up with an idea.
“How about this, y/n cleans up the gym and herself and then the 3 of us can sit together and figure out a.. neater way of you working out?” She suggested.
Before you could say anything, Steve agreed and the two of them walked out. Grumbling you started to clean.
The first thing you noticed was Natasha staring at your hands as you sat down. You leaned towards her and put your hand on her cheek. You didn’t fail to notice the way she almost leaned into your hand.
“I’m completely fine, Nat” You reassured her.
She looked at you with a vulnerability that took your breath away. It was at that moment that Wanda entered the kitchen. She paused as she noticed the two of you, you started to lean back but froze when Nat grabbed your hand and brought it back to her cheek.
“Please” she said, “I need to know you’re okay.. there was so much blood..”
Wanda frowned. Whether she was upset or confused, you weren’t entirely sure. She walked towards the two of you and sat down next to Natasha. Natasha didn’t break eye contact even when Wanda gently rubbed her lower back. You brought your other hand to Natasha’s face and leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. This seemed to reassure her greatly as her shoulders relaxed.
“I promise you, I’m completely okay” You said softly.
Your eyes darted to Wanda for a second, expecting protectiveness or anger but all you were met with was a warm look of concern that melted your heart.
“I’ll explain everything” you thought loudly. 
Wanda nodded her head, indicating she’d heard you. While you’d given her explicit permission to read your thoughts at any given time, she was still hesitant to do so. The three of you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you heard someone’s footsteps nearing. You could physically see Natasha’s walls coming back up, Wanda too. You sat back in your chair but held Natasha’s hand underneath the table. She gently squeezed in gratitude, her face showing nothing. Steve entered the kitchen and faltered when he saw the three of you sitting in silence looking at him with the exact same expression. Clearing his throat, Steve sat down next to you on the opposite side of Natasha. He looked at you expectantly. If he was confused by why Wanda was here, he didn’t show it. 
“I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about what happened in the training room?” Steve asked gently.
You took a deep breath and began.
“Okay so, shortly after I.. um.. got my power.. I went to the hospital in a different country and immediately began to heal patients with chronic and terminal illnesses. Cancer, ALS, Alzheimers, and so on. Unfortunately that gained the wrong kind of attention. The government had kidnapped me and taken me straight to a remote facility. They um.. tested the limits of my self healing. They’d break bones, cut off limbs, electrocute, and do a bunch of other things.”
You were unable to meet anyones eye-line, your body remembering each and every single thing they’d done. It was another side effect of the power you gained. While most people tended to forget the physical pain their body experienced over time, your body learned and remembered every single feeling it went through. Every cut, tear, burn. You could feel it all the moment you tried to remember it. Your body won’t ever lot you forget. Wanda had heard your thoughts and had to use everything in her power not to start bawling the moment those images came to your mind. Her grip on Natasha’s lower back tightened, she relayed what she’d heard to Natasha in her mind and felt Natasha’s body stiffen as she registered what happened.
You looked up as Natasha’s grip on your hand tightened, only to see the two women barely holding it together. Realising what transpired, you let out a weak smile and continued.
“Once they realised there was no limit to my regenerative capabilities, they attempted to train me for combat. They’d get fighters to take turns beating me into submission for hours on end until I learned to defend myself. I um.. I’m not good at combat.. So they tried to train me for um.. you know what, never mind. Basically they taught me to train past my body’s limits by constantly healing myself. They did it for years on end until it was ingrained into me. So yeah.. That’s why you saw what you saw..” You concluded.
“I’m so sorry, detka” Wanda whispered in your head.
“It’s alright, it’s in the past” you replied
“I can help train you in combat.” Steve said. “You could become a vital part of the attack te-“
Natasha scoffed, bringing his attention to her. He leaned back startled as he saw Natasha glaring at him and Wanda’s furious eyes glowing red. Both of them had the urge to throw him through the nearest window. You merely stared at him in shock. Tears made their way down your face. You withdrew your hand from Natasha’s and stood up.
“I’m sorry I need to go” you muttered, and hurried out of the room.
“Y/n” Wanda called out but it was too late, you were out of earshot. Natasha continued to glare at Steve.
“You ever suggest that again that again and I’ll test just how strong your healing factor is.” Natasha spat, standing up abruptly.
“I just meant-“ Steve tried to defend.
“We don’t care.” Wanda stated firmly. “She just told you what she went through and you thought of weaponising her just like those assholes.”
“Langua-“
“Don’t” Natasha warned.
She walked away before Steve could plead his case. Wanda glared at him one last time before following her out.
“FRIDAY” Natasha called out. “Where is y/n right now?”
“I believe Miss Y/n is one the roof.” FRIDAY stated
Holding hands, Natasha and Wanda made their way to the roof. Natasha reflected back to how she felt when she saw y/n work out and their interaction in the kitchen. She felt a little scared. The red room had trained her to always be in control, regardless of whether it was in bed or any interaction with others. Sure, she pretended to be submissive in front of her targets, but she was just toying with them. Even with Wanda, she was in control. But y/n.. that girl was something else.. For the first time in Natasha’s life, she wanted to give up control. She felt so safe and comfortable giving up control in y/n’s presence. It scared her but also excited her. 
Since the sun had already started to set, the cold had set in. Being Russian and Sokovian, the cold didn’t bother them that much. The were, however, concerned about y/n. She wasn’t from a cold country. Natasha was glad to see that Wanda had brought a blanket without any prompt. When you didn’t acknowledge their presence, they slowly sat down on either side of you. Wanda draped the blanket over the three of you. While she didn’t say it out loud, she secretly enjoyed the feeling of the three of you cuddled together. She knew Natasha definitely felt the same, she just hoped you did too. The girls simultaneously rested their head on your shoulder, both surprised to feel muscle instead of bone. The rigorous workout must be effective.
“I have a request” Natasha started.
You hummed in question.
“From now on, could you please train with either me or Wanda? We won’t train combat, We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Just, please don’t push us away.” She said.
Your head turned to her, only to notice the lack of space between your faces. Your eyes flitted down to her gorgeous lips and back. Natasha’s heart stuttered at the action, waiting for your next move. You looked away into the distance and nodded.
“There’s something you should know.” You confessed. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth downstairs.”
When you were met with silence, you continued. 
“After they realised no matter what torture they used, I would refuse to fight and hurt others. They tried to train me to do suicide missions.. I.. they would strap bombs to my chest and blow me up as I walked to targeted spots as training.”
Both of the girls held your hands as tears made their way down your face.
“It hurt so much” you croaked. “The feeling of my body being torn apart and nerves slowly growing.”
Unable to take anymore, you let out a sob. Immediately Wanda enveloped you in a hug, Natasha doing the same until you were sandwiched between them.
“No one is going to test on us” Wanda whispered. “Not anymore.”
You continued to sob into her shoulder as they whispered words of comfort in your ear. Eventually, you found yourself laying down between the two women. The warmth their bodies provided and the exhaustion of your mind caused you to fall into a deep sleep. For some reason it was the best sleep you’d ever had.
The dynamic between the three of you had completely changed after that night. They were definitely your best friends. No matter how much you wished they could be more, but they were together. They didn’t need you in their relationship, you’d just hold them back. You didn’t let that bother you, no matter how guilty you felt at times during movie night when the two insisted you sit besides them. A week later Steve came up to you as you were eating breakfast.
“I’m really sorry y/n. It was incredibly insensitive of me to suggest what I did that night” he said. Natasha was reading on the sofa, but you could see her eyes on Steve, intently listening to what he was saying.
“It was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. You absolutely do not have to train combat if you don’t want to. We all value you as a team member just the same.”
You slowly nodded your thanks. While you appreciated his apology, you were more nervous about your first workout session with Wanda and Natasha. They said they both wanted to be there for your first time as a group workout.
You entered the gym and noticed that the two women had already started working out, Wanda doing squats while Natasha was stretching. Your jaw dropped as you witnessed the two working out in their sports bra and tights. Natasha’s toned abs on display as she did the cobra pose. Your eyes shifted to Wanda and your knees felt weak. You saw sweat make its way down her neck and get lost into her cleavage. Feeling like a pervert for staring you cleared your throat and mentally cursed yourself. Both of them paused what they were doing and started walking towards you. Wanda grinned in excitement while Natasha smiled welcomingly.
“Alright y/n. Why don’t you tell us what your workout looks like and we’ll figure out a safer way to get the same results? Maybe Wanda and I can help spot you too.” Natasha asked.
“Oh cool. Okay, so basically, I run for a little bit. Then I do some strength training, followed by some bag work” you replied, already starting to stretch.
“Perfect, we can join you in running, I was planning on doing legs today, maybe we can workout together?” Wanda suggested. You nodded in agreement and the three of you walked to the treadmills.
“What speed are we running at?” Natasha asked off handedly.
Without thinking “We’ll start with 20 kmph and go from there?” You said, increasing the speed and began running. 
Wanda froze. Refusing to back down, she started the treadmill and began running at full speed. 5 minutes later Wanda was panting, slowing the treadmill down and looking at the other two in amazement. She noticed Natasha wasn’t doing to great either. Around 10 minutes later Natasha slowed down, unable to maintain the pace. Natasha’s face burned as she realised you had unintentionally outlasted both her and Wanda. She spared a glance at Wanda and that little shit had the audacity to smirk. Natasha looked to her right to see you and to her amazement, you were in a full out sprint. Natasha’s jaw dropped to see that you had been running at 35kmph all this while. An hour later, neither of them had the energy to continue running and got off the treadmill. Both of them stunned at the fact that you hadn’t changed your pace for a single second in the past hour. Wanda cleared her throat, brining you out of your focus. You slowed down and stopped, hopping off the treadmill and walking towards them. While you were breathing heavily, you looked nowhere near as exhausted as the other two felt. You smiled at them brightly.
“Time for some strength training?” You asked genuinely.
Wanda glared at you as she sat on a bench, gulping some water. You noticed their exhausted state and knelt towards Wanda.
“Can I help” you asked gently.
Tilting her head in confusion, she nodded. You slowly grabbed both hands and closed your eyed. Wanda gasped as she felt a warmth envelope her. Her soreness exhaustion dissipate and energy enter her entire body. When you let go, Wanda stood up and twisted a couple of times. She felt better than ever before. Not a hint of exhaustion throughout her body. Natasha watched in amazement at the change in her girlfriend, even her slight dark circles had disappeared.
“Is this how you feel all the time?” Wanda asked in awe.
You chuckled. “Not exactly” you replied.
Before Wanda could inquire further, you turned to Natasha and asked for permission. She nodded, blushing slightly when you took her hand. Natasha, too, gasped when she felt warmth take over. Her muscles relaxing. Even the ache she’d been feeling in her knee vanished. She almost whined when you stepped back, the warm feeling throughout her body slowly dissipating. You hadn’t realised what happened but Wanda did. Natasha saw Wanda give her a smug smile. 
You were about to walk to the free weight section when Natasha asked if the group could use the squat rack instead. Shrugging, you made your way to them. Unfortunately, your oversized sweatshirt kept on getting stuck to the squat rack. Sighing, you removed your sweatshirt. Leaving you in a full sleeved compression t-shirt and loose sweatpants. Wanda and Natasha completely froze as they saw you.
“Holy shit” Natasha thought.
“I agree” Wanda replied in her mind.
Your bulging muscles were on display, your muscular arms stretching the compression t-shirt. Natasha totally wasn’t staring at your abs and Wanda was definitely not staring at your arms. You paused, smirking when you noticed why the two were silent. You walked towards Natasha, lifted your finger to close her jaw. Her face flushed at the action.
“You’ll let flies in if you keep doing that” You teased with a smirk.
Wanda shamelessly stared at your sculpted back, looking away only when you started walking back to the squat rack.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you drooling, Wands” you stated, starting to workout.
It was Wanda’s turn to blush and Natasha to smirk. The rest of the workout went surprisingly well, neither of them commented on how heavy you were lifting for all of the exercises. At first, Natasha thought you were showing off for them but quickly quelled the thought as that was definitely not the kind of person you were. It was one of the things she lo- liked about you.
Post workout everyone went to their respective rooms and got ready for dinner. The training session ended up taking 4 hours.
As usual, you were a little late. Everyone was already sitting down, ready to eat. Wanda insisted to wait for you, to which they reluctantly agreed. You entered the room and your heart warmed as you saw Natasha and Wanda had saved a seat for you between the two of them. As you were about to sit down, your eyes fell on the robot sitting at the table. You froze when you saw what was on his forehead. A gasp left your lips, bringing everyone’s eyes to you. Wanda stood quickly, walking to you. Alarm bells ringing in her head as she felt shock, anger, and most of all grief rolling off you in waves. Thor, not picking up on your mood merely introduced you.
“The Vision, this is lady y/n. She’s the newest addition to our team. Lady Y/n, this is the vision. A synthezoid creat-“
“Thor shut up for a second” Nat interrupted. “Detka, what’s wrong?” She asked you.
You raised a trembling finger towards Vision.
“Why do you have that fucking stone” You gritted out.
“I am unaware of what you mean” Vision said, confused.
“That stone.” You seethed. “Killed my sister.”
X--X--X--X--X
Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!
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icarusdescending7 · 2 months
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Aquamarine - Chapter 3
Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.
Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?
-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-
You sighed as you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over. What a… stressful first day. First, the other Lieutenant doesn’t like you, then the gift your fiancé gave you breaks, and you get the shards in your hand and have to have Soap help you pull them out. What a mess. You clenched your hand a little, sighing at the feeling of the wounds splitting open. These are the days you wish he were still- you need to stop thinking about him. He’s dead and gone. In the past. If only it were that simple. But it is that simple. It really isn’t. It is. It’s not.
You rolled over, glancing at the clock, and sighed— 1 am. You buried your face into the pillows and immediately relaxed. Your brow furrowed for only a moment before you fell asleep. The smell of citrus and cedar lulled you away to the best sleep you’d known in years.
~~
You were lying on the ground, a thick dust clouding up around you as you struggled to regain your senses, the sound of thundering boots approaching you, grabbing you by your vest, and attempting to pull you up. Keyword: attempting. You were quickly dropped as a red mist hit your cheek, the hulking man before you with a newfound hole in his head. He collapsed on top of you, and you were quick to shove his corpse off, the drop shaking you back to reality.
“Too close, Ghost.” You grumbled into your earpiece, wiping the blood off your face with the back of your hand. You recovered your rifle and shouldered it, moving to take cover.
“You’re getting sloppy. Did you eat when we told you to?” He asked, another gunshot coming over his mic. “I have a feeling you didn’t. I can see it, in the way you’re shaking.” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice— which wasn’t lost on you.
“I meant that you almost got me too with that shot. Did you eat?” You asked, annoyed, “Why do you care? Christ, you sound like my fiancé. Always on my ass about eating…” You mumbled, turning to move forward, finally hitting the door you were trying to get to and shooting the lock off. You swapped to your sidearm, dropping low as you entered, waiting for Soap to catch up.
“What, we can’t be concerned for our teammate's health?” Soap’s voice came in over the comms, breathless like he’d been running. “We cannae do a ton with you operatin’ at fifty percent, can we?” He slipped in through the door, giving Ghost an indirect thumbs-up as he did.
“Right, because me being a little hungry is so much worse than you dodging bullets at every opportunity you get.” You rolled your eyes, looking at him. “Look at you, you’re covered in scrapes and gashes… Ghost, you got our six while we’re in here?” You asked, poking your head out and looking for the glint of his scope.
It takes him a minute to respond, then a raspy “Yeah, got an eye out.” rung in your ears.
~
“Soap! You done planting those C4 yet? We got to get the fuck outta here!” You shouted, ripping the hard drives and USB sticks from the computers you found, hoping something might be useful beyond what you were sent after. You quickly shoved it all in your pack, running down the hall and dipping into the room he sat in.
“Yeah, lass! Let’s go!” He said, grabbing your arm and dragging you along as fast as possible to get out. At some point, you ended up in a fireman carry over his shoulder, being shaken about as he ran like a bat out of hell. You let it happen, not trying to run when you could barely see straight.
He dropped you on the ground face down, a puff of dirt kicking up around you. You got up on your knees, shrugging your pack off your shoulders, and flopped onto your back, trying to cool your pulse. You were shaking like a leaf. No, you didn’t eat. Before you could fully recover, your pack was snatched off the ground by Soap and you were quickly picked up by Ghost, who carried you much more delicately if not a bit tight— bridal style. The three of you booked it, the sound of trucks rumbling on the dirt path, getting closer with each second.
After an hour of running, the three of you finally settled in a dense patch of woods, taking a moment to breathe. Before you could think, they both shoved energy bars in your face, their expressions mildly annoyed.
“Eat.” Ghost nearly demanded, opening the bar and shoving it in your mouth when you went to protest. “I’m done carryin’ your ass around.” He huffed, leaning back against a tree and closing his eyes.
Soap closed his eyes, also leaning against a tree. “Where are we, now? We must’ve missed evac by a mile by now.” He sighed, pulling a satellite GPS out of his bag. “Sorry, two miles.”
You finished eating the bar that Ghost gave you, swallowing the last bite. You took Soaps GPS, fiddling with it for a moment before locking it on a clearing about 4 miles north of you. “We could make our way there, send the coords to Watcher?” You offered, handing it over to him and plucking the other energy bar from his hand.
He showed Ghost the suggested route, shrugging. “Could work.” Ghost only nodded, sighing a bit.
~
The car ride was quiet except for the grumble of the vehicle and the occasional bump making stuff roll across the steel floors. Soap had fallen asleep at some point and was snoring loudly, and you were fighting to stay awake.
“You should sleep.” Ghost's voice broke through the silence, making you jump a little.
“Don’t want to.” You said, looking at what you could see of him. It was dark in the cabin, so all but that creepy mask of his was in shadows. “You’re creepy.”
“So I’ve heard. You gonna fight sleep the whole way or…?” He questioned, turning to look at you. “If you don’t sleep now you won't get any until we get back to base.”
“I’ll sleep when I want to. Are you gonna sleep, or do you have the whole ‘I don’t sleep mehmehmeh’ vibe going on?” You asked, your joke making him huff in amusement.
“I don’t sleep. Not when I’m in the field.” He said, “Just sleep. You’re clearly fighting it, there's no use.” His hand came up to make you lean back to rest. You could only grumble before succumbing to sleep, your head lolling from the back of the seat over to his shoulder, despite the awkward distance between you two.
~~
He watched you as you raked the leaves from your yard into a pile, your focus waning slightly as you hit the same spot for the third time now. Simon went out, taking the rake from your hands and making you take a break.
“Did you eat, sweetheart? You look dizzy.” He asked, making you look up at him. Your eyes were unconcentrated, making him frown. “That’s a no. Go inside, love. I’ll finish up.” He kissed your forehead, sending you on your way.
“Was gonna finish this then do that, but sure, okay.” You grumbled, gently touching the spot where he kissed you. “Are there leftovers from breakfast?”
“Yeah. Go eat those. I’ll be in after a bit.” He called over his shoulder.
You went in and heated up the breakfast you made, taking the plate to the couch and watching him from the window. He’s so kind that you find it hard to believe that he’s a soldier. But then again, it was easy to believe he was a soldier. The scars across his arms and neck and face told all kinds of stories. Not ones you knew, of course, he would never in a million years tell you his tales of war. You were too precious to him, and he feared that you’d fear him instead of love him if you knew the horrors he witnessed and contributed to. But you knew. Even if they were vague hints and words of the ghosts that haunt him. You’d had to ground him from PTSD flashbacks on more than one occasion, and they were never pretty. After each and every one, he’d apologize, hold you close, call you his “pretty girl” and “love of my life”. He’d worry about making you go through that with him, even though you never minded.
You broke out of your trance when he sat his hand on your shoulder, making you turn up to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the chill of the autumn air, and his hair was messy from his stocking cap. You sat up on the couch, pulling him to eye level and examining his face. You ran your fingers over scars you’d memorized, then found a new one.
“You have a new scar. How’d you get this one?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a straight answer. You ran your fingers over it, bringing him closer to kiss it.
“A battle. Like most of the other scars. Nothin’ you need to worry about” He answered quietly. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to fuss over every new scar, you know.”
“Maybe not, but is that going to stop me? No. I need you to know that I love you, even with all your battle wounds.” You hummed, closing your eyes.
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eepyuii · 2 months
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frostbite — pt. 15
pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader
content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slow burn
cw ; none, dottore is mentioned but none of his hideous acts
notes ; WHATS UP SMART FELLAS AND FART SMELLAS ⁉️
I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD,,,, see the thing is that since i published the last chapter of this, i’ve done some crazy things like finishing and graduating highschool and studying and doing national exams and preparing to apply to colleges and yknow….. really normal, totally not time consuming stuff LMAO i can’t promise that i’ll be consistent again as i am still pretty busy with all that bizz but i’m very happy to have finally gotten a new chapter out
ANYWAY ITS MEROPIDE TIME BABEY ‼️ finally get to write my pookie wookie shmookie wriothesley, can u tell that i think he’s neat :3 can u tell that i am brewing up something with him :3 can u :3
also i HAVE OTHER WRITING PROJECTS COMING OUT SOONER OR LATER MORE LATER I PROMISE,,,,, currently cooking up something for whatever dungeon meshi-heads out there that r willing to enjoy it!!!!!
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this line could not be moving slower.
you’ve been standing here for so long— any progress forward is merely two steps further but your legs have long since turned to lead, making each movement arduous and achy. mind hazy and limbs sluggish as you drag your feet through the rusted metal flooring. the most likely cause for your sudden stagnation is the overwhelming pressure from being… however many feet underwater you are, as you haven’t had much time to adapt to that yet.
ironically, it almost makes you regret your decision and you hadn’t even truly gotten inside the fortress of meropide. perhaps this was some sort of intentional psychological warfare towards the new prisoners, some sort of initiation for the upcoming torments of their sentences. even so, you look back on the moment and think it was the best course of action.
you remember the way your heart dropped upon hearing the word ‘guilty’, the way it fell all the way down to your feet and picked its pace back up again, beating a hundred miles per hour. you remember the way you weren’t even given time to say goodbye, to reach out to childe as he rebelled against the guards and was immediately detained by the iudex.
the iudex… you become conflicted at the thought of him. part of your brain tells you that you should be angry and despise him for only letting you visit childe after he was reported to be missing from the fortress, under the guise of inviting you to investigate his disappearance. though… he was so kind about it. you must’ve visited his office nearly everyday to ask for permission to visit the prison, every time being met by the same answer of ‘it’s beyond my capabilities’, but each of them he remained utterly patient and civilized— something that you ashamedly can’t say that you did in return. and even so, he graciously offered to grant you a fake sentence so you could find the harbinger yourself, with the help of the traveler and paimon of course.
there was a certain air to monsieur neuvillette, one of silent melancholy and deep thoughtfulness. your first impression of the iudex had you recalling zhongli as a comparison, but now you’ve grown more certain that they have far more in common. neuvillette is most definitely not human, you’ve long since assessed that, but every time you get a look at his eyes while visiting his office, you notice an almost draconic appearance to them. perhaps that’s why you can’t fully bring yourself to dislike him— he reminds you far too much of you the fond friendship you’ve found within the consultant of wansheng funeral parlor.
there’s a shove to your shoulder that snaps you back into reality and you realize it’s your turn to have your mugshot taken. mugshot… what would your mother think of you now? both her own child and their childhood best friend having criminal records in another country— you can practically feel the pinching of your ear, even if the false charge was something as ridiculous as stealing lady furina’s cake. despite the flash of the kamera making your eyes sting, you do your best to maintain a neutral expression and wonder if the traveler and paimon had already gotten their turn and have long since installed themselves in the fortress. you especially wonder so when you’re left to venture the fortress of meropide alone, with only a room number and no knowledge of the prison’s system to your name.
“hey! you there!”
oh dear heavens, it’s already started— you’ve not stepped foot into prison for one whole minute and you’re already about to become a bullying victim. you swallow thickly and turn around meekly like a cornered rabbit. a particularly grumpy-looking guard is the one who calls you over, expression hard and stoic. you nearly consider begging him to not be mean to you like a cowardly little kid, but he speaks before you even get to open your mouth and spew anything embarrassing.
“you’re y/n, the new inmate, right? the duke wants to see you in his office.”
oh it’s so over for you.
perhaps you haven’t become a punching bag just yet but you’ve sure, somehow, irked the warden enough to be immediately sent to his office. oh gods… is it because you’re fatui? you heard there were quite a few fatui operatives already residing in the fortress of meropide— perhaps the duke has a particular distaste for your kind. the guard half-heartedly shows you the way to the duke’s office, the singular, imposing tower at the center of the fortress.
the silence inside the tower is deafening, the only sound heard is the clang of your steps against the metal stairs, almost as if you’re the only living being inside. the second floor introduces itself through the incredibly faint, almost innate herbal scent that wafts around you more and more the higher steps you climb. finally, it reveals an atmospheric office with bookshelves rounding the walls, a comfortable-looking sofa with a coffee table littered with teacups before it and in the grand center of the room, a wide desk— the last thing you register is the man sitting at it expectantly.
he looks nothing like you expected him to.
by the title of duke, you were picturing an older, posher man adorning expensive fabrics and a distasteful, condescending expression towards the ‘lower lifeforms’ of his prisoners. instead, he’s much younger and rugged, littered with scars, dark tones and sharp edges to his outfit— he almost looks like an inmate himself. despite not appearing necessarily condescending, the duke of meropide is still plentiful imposing, as his icy blue eyes and platform boots send a shiver through your spine when he stands up to greet you. he sticks out a hand and you instinctively flinch away, although the hand only hangs in the air passively awaiting a handshake.
“y/n l/n, prisoner 7458, it’s a pleasure to meet you. welcome to the fortress of meropide.”
oh… his tone is so casual and friendly, it completely takes you aback— like you’re meeting a friend on the street instead of the highest authority of an enormous prison as one of his very own prisoners. you scramble to shake his hand and awkwardly fall into some sort of bowing motion in the midst of you’re panic.
“a-ah yes! thank po you very m-much, your grace.”
with this proximity, you have no choice but to look at the duke’s face up close. he wears an easy smile on his otherwise seemingly hardened face, one that you can’t help but subconsciously think of as handsome. another juxtaposition to your expectations toward the duke is that, despite his rugged and troublesome appearance, he is quite well kept— as seen by his neat peach fuzz. he confuses you entirely.
the duke chuckles amusedly at your entirely perplexed demeanor.
“no need to be so nervous, this is a casual talk that i personally wanted to have with you, rather than a… part of the fortress’ welcoming ceremony. so please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable— i’ll prepare us some tea. oh! and call me wriothesley.”
you do as… wriothesley says and sit on the surprisingly cushy chair in front of his desk as he himself steps off to the side to make the tea. your mind is still running at miles per hour with everything that’s happened and with what might happen next, with what to say or not to say to the duke, with where childe, the traveler and paimon might be right now. not to mention the sickeningly sweet smell that fills your brain even further… this must be some strong tea. wriothesley sets a teacup in front of you and sits at his grand, tall chair behind the desk. he faces you with a bright smile that you force yourself to return, yet you still can’t help but keep the thought of this ‘casual talk’ having other intentions gnaw at the back of your mind.
“so, i won’t dilly-dally with what i’d like to talk about— as you may have noticed, the fortress harbors quite a few inmates from the fatui.” bingo. who knew that your blinded anxieties were actually right.
“all of them arrive here with similar ranks, under similar sentences for similar crimes. standard stuff, really… but this is the very first time we’ve gotten ourselves a sergeant.”
although the duke keeps up an easy-going and lighthearted demeanor, you can’t help but remain on edge. you feel once again like prey cornered by a calculating hound. the smell of the tea still plagues your mind with its unavoidable presence— what’s even worse is that the scent isn’t entirely unfamiliar to you, the memory is just out of your grasp, frustrating you even more.
“and even further, this is our very first time we’ve gotten ourselves a fatui sergeant whose crime was… to steal a cake from lady furina?” wriothesley briefly looks down toward a document on his desk to make sure he’s actually recalling your crime correctly. you barely listen to what he’s saying, still laser focused on recognizing this irking fragrance.
“adding onto that, it seems as though we’re receiving two new inmates today who are arriving on the exact same sentence for the exact same crime as yourself. seems a bit curious, doesn’t it?”
your attention is caught by the mention of the traveler and paimon and you shoot up in your seat.
“oh yes, those are my friends! a-are they okay? have they arrived yet?”
wriothesley is seemingly surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, as he chuckles with certain shock and amusement. he looks at his file once again, eyes trailing over to the two other prisoner registry’s below your own with a certain analytical hint to his gaze.
“i’m certain they’ll be arriving at the fortress shortly. in the meantime, why don’t you tell me how exactly the three of you managed to commit such a heinous crime?” he asks humorously.
wait!
you’ve finally recognized the scent… a lesser known tea leaf from liyue, with no real definitive name for itself— only truly studied within the medical field for being one of the few tea leafs to contain sodium thiopental, a barbiturate that slows the speed of the communication between the spinal cord and the brain, making high-functioning tasks such as lying harder to perform. a truth serum.
wriothesley has served you a truth serum.
so much for a ‘casual talk’. you’ve known the man for not even a full day, yet you still feel a sting of betrayal fermenting in your chest. but truly, what can be done when you’ll always have a big fat target on your back that labels you as nothing more than a fatuus? you’ve chosen this wretched bed, now you must lie in it.
and lie you will.
with a forced laugh, you feign a reminiscent smile. “a-ah, it’s actually quite silly— i believe it goes without mention that my friends and i are foreigners and still wildly foreign to fontainian customs. we were invited to a meeting with lady furina and monsieur neuvillette in the spirit of diplomacy but, ahah… i guess we were unfamiliar with lady furina’s predilection for sweets and just took one for ourselves!”
wriothesley laughs in turn, but you’re unable to discern how genuine it is. you watch his periwinkle eyes flicker briefly toward your untouched teacup and suddenly, the atmosphere turns into one akin to a game of chess— innately hostile and strategic, where both of you must be hyper aware of the other’s next move lest you make a mistake and lose your carefully constructed composure.
“i must say it is an unlikely set of circumstances…”
you subconsciously look toward wriothesley’s own teacup, seeing that his remains as unsipped as yours. with a chilling feeling, you look back up to see that the duke’s gaze was already fixated on you, which means he saw you checking his teacup. which means he knows that you know.
“though, i’ve got to ask… what exactly entails your position in the fatui? this is purely out of my own curiosity, as most of our inmates all come from the house of the hearth.”
you swallow hard.
“well… i’m head of the infirmary, that’s all my position is, really. the sergeant title is just a half-assed justification for how high my ranking is.”
the calculating hint to wriothesley’s gaze softens in the slightest amount possible and he lightly looks off to the side, as if reminded of something, or someone he knows by your answer.
“i work directly under the second fatui harbinger, il dottore. i’m somewhat his… assistant.” the word assistant leaves your mouth with a tinge of disdainfulness as your body almost instinctively tenses at the mention of… him. the duke picks up on it.
“the doctor, huh— haven’t heard much about him myself, but what i have heard seems like more than enough for me.” you can’t help but snort at that.
“do you like it? working for him, that is.”
you’re staggered into silence and a shocked expression— the suddenness of the question completely taking you by surprise. the speechlessness you feel is painfully reminiscent of when kunikuzushi asked you if you’d like to kill dottore. despite the answer being obvious to you, there’s a subconscious fear gnawing at your side that dottore might be out here listening, disguised as someone else or as one of his segments, living a false life. but you can’t allow yourself to live in fear of him anymore— his segments are gone and he’s pathetically stuck in zapolyarny palace by himself while you’ve been out and traveling miles and miles away from snezhnaya. kunikuzushi doesn’t fear him, so why should you?
you’ve always been terrible at bluffing, so fuck it— you might as well not bluff at all.
instead of answering wriothesley immediately, you lunge for the teacup and gulp down the entire thing, much to his surprise. the duke is stunned in return as he merely watches attentively for your reaction to the serum. the silence between the two of you is prolonged as you give the serum time to take effect. the taste itself is a delightful, slight earthy flavor— making it even more enticing to drink normally for one unaware of the leaf’s properties. you don’t feel any different after a few seconds, if not ever so slightly woozier. you breathe in and out deeply, letting the first answer that comes to your mind be the one that comes out.
“i take my job very seriously, your grace— i am a medic, my ambition is to save lives. and there isn’t a soul in teyvat that i would ever want to kill more than i want to kill him.”
the answer feels foreign and unexpected even to yourself. the first time you were asked such a question, before one who was once the balladeer and dottore’s experimental god, your answer was no. it felt easier to say no— to tell him you’d rather he be the one to end the doctor’s reign of terror, because for the most part it was true. but then kunikuzushi found closure, he found new life and prosperity in places outside of godhood or tormenting others or spiting his ‘mother’ or going after dottore.
and you, you stayed the same. you’re still suffocating within the grimy, clawed grasp of the second fatui harbinger. you’ve been through so much, visited four different nations within the span of the last year, fought an abyssal creature and an artificial, nearly god-like being yet you still feel as stuck as you did while you were still stationed in snezhnaya. you’re still stuck having reasons to want to kill dottore, kunikuzushi moved past his.
the duke still can’t find an immediate response, as he merely scoffs incredulously at what he’s just watched. you see a faint glaze take over his gaze when he looks aimlessly down at his desk, as if truly involving himself in memories of the past— his eyebrows furrow briefly, as though the memories he recalls aren’t good ones. something grips at your throat, an anxious feeling, as you regret being so impulsive as to reveal something so damning about yourself. to a prison warden, no less. you feel as though you’ve sobered up and feel the need to make up for what you said and excuse yourself, but before you can even open your mouth wriothesley is already standing from his chair.
“well i respect your honesty, sergeant. i’m afraid we’ll have to leave our talk here, as i have to welcome more of the new prisoners into the fortress, maybe even your friends will be amongst them— i’ll make sure to give them the word that you’re here.”
you nod briskly and scurry to leave the office while the duke insists on seeing you out himself. your head pounds with nervousness, and perhaps slightly with the truth serum tea you just downed all at once— so much so that you almost don’t notice wriothesley’s hand sticking out once again in a polite handshake. much less do you notice the fascinated studying scan of his eyes across your face as your hand meets his.
“and again— welcome to the fortress of meropide, y/n.”
you don’t sleep well on your first night at the fortress.
perhaps it’s due to not being used to the overwhelming pressure of the water, perhaps due to the lack of warmth that your metal surroundings bring, perhaps a side effect of the tea.
or perhaps… it’s because you dream of ajax.
at first, the dream is sweet— drowning in cheesy, tooth-rooting romance tropes dug from the most delusional corners of your brain, ones that you desperately tried to suppress after you got over your phase of reading romance novels as a child. you’re reliving the tension-filled moment inside your hotel bathroom from the other morning, where some mystical force had pulled you and ajax so close together you shared the same breath, getting painstakingly closer still. only this time, instead of getting interrupted by those guards, the scene keeps going… and going… until you truly, finally meet each other in the middle.
within the misty midsts of your slumber, it almost feels real— there’s a shock of electricity when your lips touch, your heart beats faster from even outside the dream, you can nearly feel the warm sigh of satisfaction that ajax lets out from his nose and onto your face. but it still isn’t enough, the tightness in ajax’s desperate grip onto the back of your head and on the small of your back aren’t present enough. the juxtaposition of his fiery warm skin against your own cold one isn’t contrasting enough, your skin doesn’t burn as fiercely as it does when you touch him in the waking world.
and soon enough, the dream shifts… shifts into scenes of ajax inside the fortress. you’re not lucid enough to find the images strange, as you’ve never seen him inside the fortress yet— so you remain stuck, watching as he sneaks past a plethora of guards to reach a decrepit tunnel, overridden with plant-life as it connects out into the fontainian sea. your vision starts to blend incomprehensibly like watercolors on wet paper, until all the remains is a blinding, blue mess and a faint whisper in ajax’s voice:
“something’s… calling me… i… i have to go…”
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taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana
and don’t forget to boycott this shitty game!!
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blissfulip · 8 months
Text
Dopamine
on AO3
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Viktor x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,
Cw: uhhhh smut
Words: 2.5k
[A/N: russian very kindly corrected by soln, ly<3, tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly(ish). (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]
Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao
Previous Next
Chapter 6: Big-headed? (NSFW)
The corridor leading to Heimerdinger's office was markedly narrower and longer than the others at The Academy, as though he was covertly attempting to thwart visitors. It didn’t stop you, however, and as you found out when you got there, it hadn’t stopped Viktor either. It made sense that, at one point in his life, long before you even met each other, these halls must have been a habitual destination. His close-knit relationship with the professor also showed itself confidently in the volume of his voice, a line that, despite your frustration with the situation, you’d never dare to cross.
You had every intention of staying put and waiting for him to come out, but the half-open door compromised your presence, and given that you were almost certainly there to make a fuss about the same issue, you decided to get it done and over with; after all, perchance Viktor's presence there could give your argument a compelling edge.
"Well, I’m glad you were able to join us at last, dear. I trust you are feeling better." Heimerdinger started.
“I’m okay; yes, thank you for the concern, professor. I should say I have a surmise that I am here for the same reason as him."
“Yes, I was trying to argue that our work styles do not meld well, and making us work together for any period of time greater than 5 minutes could be catastrophic; would you confirm as much?”
“Absolutely, I can do the work all on my own if that’s necessary; just don't make me work with him.”
“Interestingly enough, he has offered to do the same. Although I do commend both of you for your altruism, I must insist. This is what the Academy has decided.”
“Professor, if I may—"
“Enough delays, my boy; the decision is final. If I were you, I would get to it immediately; you have only a couple of hours to work.” You were swiftly rushed out the door by him, swept away by tiny, impatient footsteps and a heavy wooden door closing behind you.
Another door closed right on your faces when the sweet librarian denied you access on the pretense that your arguing had inconvenienced a whole two people the past couple of weeks, and you were now banned from using the premises at the same time. You had to compromise and go in by yourself to get the books you needed and then go all the way to the half-empty and uncomfortably cold cafeteria tables, where you worked tirelessly until you were yet again kicked out once the place closed. 
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A couple infectious yawns and rubbed eyes later, you leaned back on the stiff plastic chair and stretched your back.
“What time is it?”
“Past 9.” Viktor answered after lazily turning around to try to make out what the clock read. You groaned loudly.
“We’ll need to move again—my dorm or yours?"
“Mine is probably cleaner.”
“Are you implying I’m messy?”
“No, I am affirming as much.”
“Rude.” You were offended, though only as a habit, because he was not entirely wrong.
“Oh no, have I offended you? Someone put me out of my misery!” He dramatized.
“I’d be first in line.” You said already standing up and walking in the direction of his dormitory.
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“Not everything needs to be done your way, you know?"
In the wake of the cafeteria work stretch, you had found yourselves completely spent and depleted. With most of the work done and text written, you had taken some minutes to stretch and rest your eyes. Viktor had informed you as soon as you got there that it was imperative that you were as silent as possible, given the next-door neighbor's propensity to complain about noise.
You did your best to keep it down, of course, and granted, you had been doing a particularly good job. That is, until Viktor decided to wonder who between the two of you would be the one actually giving the speech with the material you had prepared. Although you did your best to ask him politely at first, his immediate negative response caused you to get defensive.
“I wrote most of the text; why can’t you just do me a favor once?
“It’s not a favor if you have to throw me under a train for it! You know I hate speaking in public, and genuinely, I’m dog-tired of you being so incorrigibly selfish.”
“I’m not selfish, how am I selfish?” You said almost forgetting you had to keep the volume down.
“You never think about any consequences, ever. You can go around saying you are a free spirit and spontaneous and fun as much as you like, but if truth be told, you are nothing but cataclysmic chaos!”
“I don’t make mistakes on purpose, Viktor; it happens; you just have zero empathy because you insist on making everyone believe you are the Academy’s perfect golden boy! You never make mistakes, and you never do anything wrong, right?. But I know all you really do is push people away because everyone is afraid of disappointing you! I don't know. If you were a little less hostile, maybe you’d have some friends."
“You mean friends like you? I’d rather staple my ears together than be friends with a jumbled  mess. He said, standing up from the chair, his nose flaring up as he inhaled a sharp breath and held his cane forcefully. “You are so excruciatingly intolerable, overwhelming, big-headed—”
“Big-headed?"
“That is what you take offense to?”
You couldn’t say anything beyond a dismissive shrug, and you knew your disregard for his opinion was what would sting the most anyway.
The silence was loud; it could be felt in the air between you, the irate flare of irritation in his gritted teeth, his ears colored in that familiar tone of blush, and his eyebrows uncomfortably knit together as he whisper-screamed at you. He took a couple steps forward, leaving you at no farther than a palm's distance. The sudden closeness somehow did not bother you; you could hear both of your breaths, heavy and panting from the strain of containing your screams, and you could tell by the heat you felt all over your head and stomach that your cheeks probably mirrored the flush on Viktor’s face.
In hindsight, you never really understood why you didn’t talk back to him after that last comment. You had so many things in mind you could have said, but an unknown force pulled your attention away from his amber eyes glowing with rage to his lips instead, which were a bloody cherry red from biting on them too much. You couldn’t look away, and Viktor quickly noticed.
Then his shoulders visibly lost tension.
"Ah…prydoruk,” he whispered, mostly to himself, and you wished you understood because it somehow felt like another insult. Perplexity became fright when the loud clang of his cane falling directed your eyes to the floor, but in an instant, both of his hands were holding your face firmly, and one of them slithered in between the locks of your hair.
You hated how fast your guard fell. His fingers, icy yet delicate, caressing the lines of your jaw, were enough to disarm you completely. You mouthed multiple offenses at him under your breath as you searched for his lips. You were agonizingly in need of each other’s taste. Your hands had a strong grip on his shirt, tugging at it unintentionally as your body, which desperately wanted that idiot, tried to gripe with your rationality. The war in Viktor’s mind was a similar one, but just as much as yours, his body was unable to pull back.
Eventually you needed to catch your breath from the kiss, beyond hungry, and when you pulled back just slightly, you looked at each other like two deer in headlights, frozen in place by a blend of contradicting emotions that prevented you from moving and still holding each other closely. Viktor moved first, and when he kissed you again, you could feel his hands move almost on their own, going against his orders to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him. He felt his lungs grow hungry for air as his tongue buried itself deep inside your throat.
“Stop pulling," he tried to whisper in between kisses. You shushed him, bringing a finger up to his lips, and started leaving a trail of kisses along his jawbone. “If you tear my shirt, I—” He tried once again, but your lips got to his neck at the same time, and his sentence changed into a muffled groan.
“I won’t. Just shut up; don’t make me think too much about this; just sh—”
“So crass,” he said as he walked backwards to the bed, pulling you along with him. “You’re so unpleasant."
“You have history that says otherwise, asshat."
You already had a leg on the bed, fully intending to push him on it to straddle his lap, but he moved faster than you could think and shifted to hover above you. He crawled up slowly without ever stopping the deep kiss you were sharing and used one of his knees to push your legs apart, positioning himself between them. You tried not to react, but the feeling of his erection against you prompted a slight chuckle to come out of your throat. 
“If this is how you get when I’m unpleasant, I can’t imagine what could happen if I were nice to you.” you smirked. He sank his teeth against your skin in response, leaving a small bite mark on your collarbone before he whispered.
“You are not funny, Zaychik."
“You’re just humorless." You said this as you pulled his shirt over his head. This must have been the open invitation he was waiting for to introduce a hand under your dress, completely bunching it up to gain precious access to your bare chest.
Although the energy of the room had shifted noticeably, the pooling heat in between you never replaced the ravenous disposition. You still felt the frustration in him as he bit into you multiple times, leaving a wake of purple and red bruises you would have to explain the next day. You didn’t know if his motivations were guided by a fit of lust or if it was a way to punish you for all of the irritation you had caused him throughout the years of knowing each other; either way, it felt good, and you did not care to keep pondering.
His hand trickled down to your underwear in excruciatingly slow designs, one of his eyebrows raising in a self-congratulatory expression when he felt the dampness of the fabric.
“Pat yourself in the back; why don't you?” You said, rolling your eyes. He did not answer, and, to your astonishment, he did not take your underwear off. He took his hand back up, bringing the fingers wet with arousal into his mouth, pulled down the elastic of his sweatpants and underwear to reveal a cock you wished you hadn’t gasped at, and pulled your underwear to the side to position himself at your entrance, all without ever breaking eye contact.
Even though he was panting abnormally loud and you could tell he would probably soon burst into a cloud of smoke, he still nodded slightly at you, asking for confirmation, and when you nodded back, he impatiently tilted his hips as far as the position allowed it and his leg could withstand, plunging into you with hungry zeal. He didn’t start slow; he was incisive and deep with every thrust, making sure he was completely inside you with every move. Calculated bastard
You used both hands around his back to hold yourself steady, your not exactly manicured nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulder blades as you did your best to not make any noises too loud. Down on the bed under him, you pondered the dim light in the room and the curious designs of the roof. They might as well have been figments of your imagination, swirls of light and haziness as your eyes filled with tears.
You confused the erratic rhythm of his hips for what you thought at first was the arrival of his unraveling and immediately realized was simply his leg tiring out, and you gathered enough momentum to push him off of you, his back now on the bed, and you were ready to ride him. Long overdue, you thought, you couldn’t let him get his way with you without having a mirriad of his whimpers to your name. Your pace wasn’t slow either; you drove him into you with the roll of your hips, making sure you could feel him in the right spots.
The look of enamoured trance on his face as you bounced on his lap was far from the vexed expression you were expecting, and the suppressed groans of pleasure touched something in you that made you suddenly bashful. You leaned over to nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck and pressed your lips against his when his grin was getting too wide for comfort. You devoured each other again for what felt like too little time before you could feel the overwhelming heat in your core preparing you for your climax.
You tried to tell Viktor you were about to come, but something in your face must have made that obvious, because he brought you close again by the back of your neck, your mouths nearly touching each other as he spoke.
“Say my name,” he murmured into your mouth.
“Yeah, right”
The hand on your neck slithered its way up to your hair, which he tugged at firmly.
“Say it; I know you’re close.”
“Fuck you.” You hissed, neither of you being able to contain a half-pleasure, half irritation, out-of-breath groan.
It didn’t take much longer before you felt the brief pain and sweet spasm that followed it, and Viktor revealed the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock. You took a second to compose yourself with your forehead pressed against his, and then gave him a devilish grin as you slid down to his lap. His eyes opened wide when you pressed the heat of his erection flat on your tongue, taking it in as far as you could manage.
His head shot back and his face contorted in pleasure, the hand that hadn’t left your hair oscillating between pulling at it harshly and gently caressing your head. You tasted him, salty, in your throat soon enough, and sat up after swallowing every drop of it. Viktor drew you back to him, and you laid there next to each other, avoiding eye contact, even though you were too high from your orgasms to feel any regret yet.
‘Yet’ came soon enough, though.
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queenie-official · 10 months
Text
Chapter Thirteen: ‘One Thousand Apologies’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin
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part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
a/n: this chapter is a pretty short one solely because it leads directly into the next chapter and if i where to combine them it’d 100% would of been way to long😭😭 anyways hope you huns enjoy Xx<3💋
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apologizing to Anakin was one thing. it was easy especially after you’d both opened your hearts to one another, apologizing to Padme however was going to be a completely different thing. everything was going smooth thus far since Anakin’s confession that morning, but you were nervous. you knew Padme and you knew she’d forgive you but you had this overwhelming guilt. it was eating you alive as you waited for her to arrive for the day. you twist the ring on your finger becoming lost in your thoughts as you await her arrival. not even entirely sure of what you were going to say or how to start your apology.
as soon as she enters the tea room you’re on your feet. she freezes for a moment processing the fact that your actually acknowledging her existence before carefully continuing in, closing the doors behind her. there’s an awkward silence as you both stare at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. you almost wished you could just pretend as if everything was normal and although you knew if you did do that she’d go along with it, you also knew she deserved better.
she was your best friend and the distance you wedged between the two of you albeit one sided- needed to be addressed. you clear your throat and gesture to the chair beside you wordlessly asking her to take a seat, she takes the offer. silently walking over to you and sitting down, you pull another seat directly in front of her to join her. still you both remain silent for a moment as you struggle to find the words, reaching forward to take her hands into yours as she had done to you days ago when trying to offer you comfort.
“Padme…” you force yourself to keep eye contact as you start to speak, wanting to show your sincerity. “i am so sorry, what i did was wrong. i should not have ignored you the way i did, it was childish-” she cuts you off before you can finish your sentence “y/n, i am not mad at you” she looks at you with nothing but pure sympathy. “i know you aren’t mad but it doesn’t excuse my behavior” she shakes her head at you “you where hurting and reacted accordingly, yes it wasn’t the best way to go about it but i understood- i understand” she squeezes your hands reassuringly.
“please let me apologize, i know you understand but you must realize you did not have to do what you did- what you’ve done. you stick beside me even as i pushed you away, you didn’t give up on me even though i would of more than understood if you had.” she gives you a gentle smile, letting out a soft chuckle “y/n you forget our friendship is not one sided, nor is it fragile. i will always be here for you the same way i know you will be for me.” you feel your eyes begin to water and just as quickly you are pulled into her arms. “thank you for the apology i appreciate it” she adds not wanting to brush off what you where trying to do. you both indulge in the hug for a moment, staying in each others embrace before pulling away and smiling.
you both can’t help but laugh. it felt nice, therapeutic almost. “i think we may have more important matters to discuss now” she says with a smile, leaning back in her chair. “like what?” you snort, shifting in your own seat to get more comfortable. “well for starters who’s responsible for finally pulling you out of your own head, who should i be thanking for giving me my friend back?” she’s smiling as she asks, giving you a look that you could only assume meant she already knew.
to be fair it’s not like there where many options for people who’d speak out to you. “You and I both know you’ve already got an idea as to who it was” she laughs, turning her head to the side and gestures silently over to a few of the castle servants. they work quickly, moving the small table to where you both where sat. setting up a small tea party for you both, one of the servants pouring you both a cup of tea adding in milk and sugar to your likings. “of course i do but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to hear you say it” you can’t help but roll your eyes, bringing your cup of tea to your lips before taking a sip. she gives you a smug smile before mirroring your actions.
“what else did you want to discuss?” you ask curiously, she hums for a short moment as she thinks to herself. “we have to address the situation publicly…” you feel your heart sink, looking down into your tea cup to stare at the liquid in order to avoid eye contact. “you don’t have to do a announcement if that’s what your worried about- there are other ways we can go about this matter y/n” you take a deep breath, looking back up at her and placing your tea down. “i don’t have to do an announcement but if feels like i should, a murder and attempted one is not something that can just be so easily looked over”
“well there are ways you could do so indirectly” she quips perking your interest in an instant. “how so?” she places her own tea down now, sitting a bit straighter before she begins. “let’s start with the council members. forget an announcement, skip straight to punishing them and let the news come out in articles as it usually would. then simply replace them, business as usual. you’re the queen, the people already know what’s happened there so there’s no real need to address them in particular.” you nod carefully taking in her advice, tapping on the table beside you with one of your fingers as you think. “that leaves us with one thing”
“addressing your fathers murder and the attempted murder on Anakin” you nod letting out a sigh, leaning your head into your palm. “i don’t feel as if you have to address it head on. write a statement about what happened to your father and have it printed and released in the papers” you purse your lips in thought “but what about the attempt on Anakin’s life?” Padme goes silently, briefly contemplating what you could do to address it while also avoiding the spotlight. “maybe not a statement with words but a gesture, something to show you and him aren’t going anywhere nor are you scared. even though you are but they don’t need to know that.”
a gesture? what could you do to act as a gesture big enough to garner everyone’s attention whilst simultaneously showing there’s nothing to fear.
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Anakin sat directly beside you, Listening carefully as you and Padme explained what you’d been discussing. you’d called him in for more than just coming up with an idea- actually you’d already figured out what you wanted to do the problem was you didn’t know how to execute it without his help.
“so you need help coming up with a gesture then?” he asks curiously running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Yes-” “No-” you and Padme both speak at the same time, her turning to you in confusion when she hears you say no. you keep your attention on Anakin however as you speak “do you remember when we discussed the things you liked about your kingdom?” he blinks a few times processing your words as he thinks back through your conversations, the gears turning in his head. you watch as he visibly lights up once he realizes what you’re hinting at “The Races?”
“Yes!” you exclaim happily now turning to Padme to see if she was beginning to see where you were going with this. she seems more curious than anything, which to be fair you didn’t have horse races in Alderaan so it made sense it hadn’t clicked for her yet. “It’s a big event that brings together a lot of people. pretty much anyone can participate as long as they have a horse to ride” Anakin begins to explain the details behind the Tatooine tradition, happily reciting the rules and regulations.
“it’s the perfect thing that could unite the people and us, a public event for the Ton to participate in and if Anakin raced as well then it’d also serve as a way for us to show we aren’t afraid. let them know we’re with them. we could add a Ball as well, so that we can socialize and maybe give a brief statement?” you suggest the idea to the both of them, Anakin grows more excited at the mention of him being able to participate. Padme seems completely onboard as well, perking up at all the new info.
“i think this to be a wonderful idea, and in all honesty you could probably use the excitement of the whole event to sweep this under the rug. at the end of the day its up to you of course” you nod at her comment. there was a lot to think of and a lot to take care of if you wanted this to happen and for it to be successful. you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled over all of the fear and doubts. Anakin seemed to be even more excited than you, tapping his foot against the ground ready to jump up at any moment.
“well for this to work we’d better get started now, i believe we have a letter to write.” you say with a smile as you turn to Anakin.
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part 14
tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog
this chapter was a bit short but the next chapter is going to be very long ☝️ not to mention possibly a big milestone for reader and Anakin👀 it’s either going to happen in this next chapter or the one after 💪 but anyways love you all and i hope you love reader and Padmes friendship as much as me💋💋 oh and one more thing, i hope you guys haven’t forgotten about Barclay 🌝
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wandafiction · 7 months
Text
Beautiful - Just Us Chapter 4
Warnings 18+: Smut, Fingering (Wanda receiving), teasing.
Word Count: 1708
Series List | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5
================================
I feel Wanda start to grind her centre against my stomach as I walk us up the small flight of stairs, to get to the second floor of the penthouse, walking us to the master bedroom. I can feel her wetness pooling in her underwear and some of it sticking to her thighs, and now my stomach too. Just this simple act wants to make me ravish her right then and there...so I will.
We only make it to the threshold of the master bedroom, before I push her against the inside of the door frame; the door is open and inviting. However, I keep us here, her centre grinding against me more as her patience grows thin. Both my hands are on her bum keeping her safe in the air, while our lips meet in a heated kiss. I smirk when I feel her grip around my neck tighten so I decide to move my lips down her neck finding her pulse point almost immediately. I nip and suck on it harshly, hearing her gasp, happy with the mark I have left I move my kisses down her neck. I nip and suck at different points trying to gauge her reactions, some spots cause her to moan, others cause her to grind more into me while others cause my name to spill out of her mouth...sensitive neck much. 
Slowly I move my lips to her left collar moan leaving a small mark there, a small 'please' leaves her mouth but I am not done teasing. I move my lips to her shoulders where her dress and bra strap are, taking them into my mouth and lifting them slightly. I let them snap back onto her skin. She gasps at the feeling, so I do it again this time a small whimper leaves her mouth. Time to get rid of them. Keeping one hand on her bum, my right hand moves up her back finding the zip of her dress. I start to pull it down slowly, allowing my fingers to graze across her bare skin, smirking when I see goosebumps spread across her body and she shivers at the contact. 
"Please no more teasing y/n. I need you." Wanda pleads, her body still grinding against mine so I push her further against the door frame. If that's even possible. And it halts her movements as there is no room for her body to move.
"You're such a good girl for me princess, just a little longer." I use my free hand, moving back up her back to release her bra in one swift movement. I bring my mouth back to her dress and bra strap and use my teeth to move it down her arm, and do the same on the other side. 
She seems to get the message, releasing her grip from my neck so she can remove her bra and dress from her arms. The bra gets thrown haphazardly across the room, her dress now pooling at her waist. I almost drool at the sight of her perky breast, her nipples standing to attention in front of me. I don't give Wanda time to comprehend my next move as I take her right nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the nub, every now and again my teeth graze across it. My hand that was on her back moves to play with the other nipple and breast as her chest starts to heave. I gently nibble on the nipple and pull away from it with a pop, my hand and mouth swap sides giving each breast the same attention. 
Her hands move up above her head, bending back to hold onto the door frame for support as I move my hand from her breast down her stomach and to her center. Her hips jolt at the feeling as I start running a finger through her folds, collecting as much wetness as I can and wow there is a lot. 
"Someone's excited." Before she can say anything I smash our lips together and slip a single digit into her entrance. I place my thumb on her clit and start making small circles as my finger pumps into her. Small moans and swears leave her lips the more I move inside her. I add another finger and lower her slightly so I can rest my hand on my hip bone which I use to help thrust into her. A pornographic moan leaves her mouth the deeper my fingers get curling against her walls every other thrust, my hips pushing against my hand into her. My thumb matches the rhythm of each thrust. I feel her walls flutter around my fingers.
"Oh my god! Y/n! I'm going to….I'm cumming!" With one final thrust I feel her walls suffocate my fingers as her juices collect around my hand and her thighs. 
I keep a slow movement in her to help her ride out her high, her head slumps onto my shoulders as her arms move from the door frame to lazily wrap around my shoulder a neck. Once she calms down a bit more, I remove my hand and she hums into my shoulder shifting slightly in my grip.
"You okay princess?" 
Wanda removes her head from the crook of my neck, taking her bottom lip between her teeth giving me a small nod.
"I'm going to need words." 
"Wow...just...that was wow. Just give me like a minute to calm down before anything else." I give her a small smile.
"Of course. So you think you have more in you, you want to take this to the bed?" 
"I do, you made me feel so good. The night is still young, but you're wearing too many clothes." I slowly set her on the floor, her legs wobble a bit but she soon gains her composure, her dress pools around her legs as she steps out of it leaving her in just her panties. 
"Hmmm maybe you should do something about that." She looks up at me with dark eyes.
"Maybe I should." Wanda's arms move underneath my jacket, at the shoulders, moving down my arms slowly as she guides it off slowly. "Does this need hanging up, it looks too expensive to belong on the floor." I let out a small laugh.
"It's okay, it can end up on the floor, it can end up on the chair, it can even end up on the bed. Or around you." She quirks an eyebrow as she takes the jacket fully off my body, holding in the air with one finger before allowing it to drop to the floor. 
"Whoops." I smile gently at her, as her arms move up to the waistcoat undoing the few buttons there before it joins the jacket on the floor. 
She guides her hands down to my pant buttons, undoing the belt buckle and the zip. She slowly snakes the belt out of each of the belt loops, holding it up between us a playful glint plays across her eyes before she drops the belt to the floor. I have a feeling she wants to use the belt later on, but I won't push her tonight. I hope this isn't the only time we get to see one another. 
Wanda untucks my shirt from my pants, slowly moving her arms up the middle of the shirt as she undoes each and every button. She pulls the shirt open slightly and I see her gaze drop down to my defined abs and the V- line that I have been working very hard to form. Seems to be paying off.
"Someone works out." One of her hands trace over my abs, her nails cause goosebumps to appear on my skin as she moves her hand down from the tip of my abs to the V-line, my muscles twitching at her touch. While she continues to trace my body with one hand her other hand makes light work of removing my shirt leaving me in my black lace bra.
Both her hands are now on my pants as she slowly edges them down my legs, all the while planting soft kisses across and down my chest. As her hands slide down my legs, I gently take off my shoes using my toes to pull the heels off my feet so I don't have to interrupt her movements by bending down. My pants pool at my feet so I slowly step out of them, her kisses on my chest stop at a particular point. Right my scars. 
She looks up from below, wanting to see my reaction as she guides her tongue over the soft scared skin just below my right rib cage. It's more sensitive than the rest of my skin so I shiver at the feeling of her muscle swirling around it letting out a low moan. 
"I do have another big one on my back, just a warning for when you feel the difference in skin." She lightly hums as she walks around to my back. 
Her arms drape over my shoulders, I hear a small gasp -probably her reaction to the scar- but she quickly covers it up by kissing down my shoulders blades to my bra strap. I'm not going to lie, this feels amazing. No one I have been with has taken their time with my body not like this. It's always quick and rough, this is very different, I like it. I feel her arms move from my shoulders to my bra strap as she slowly undoes it, still kissing down my spine along the scar I have there. Once she has made it to the bottom of my back she licks the scar all the way back up as her hands slide the bra off my body. She gently turns me around and I'm met with not just a look of lust but also admiration.
"You're beautiful." She breathes out, barely a whisper. "I want to make you feel good too." 
"We have all night princess." I grab her arms and wrap them around my torso as I slowly guide us back to the bed...I am so looking forward to this.
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wizardrousactivity · 7 months
Text
They Promised. Part IIII
Previously      Next
TW: Mentions of past-childhood trauma for reader (not yet), unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy inaccuracies, angst, mentions of abortion, a silly violence scene, reader is fairly young (early twenties)
Pairings: Ex!König x Reader x Ex!Simon or however you view it!!!
A/N: I’m quite proud of how this story is progressing, I have gotten way better at writing and I hope you can see and enjoy that too! <3 1k words for this chapter
Quite frankly, losing your virginity didn’t feel as electrifying as it did before. Nothing could stop that constant ache of heartbreak in your stomach, churning with guilt - unidentifiable guilt. You couldn’t understand why you felt so queasy about something you didn’t do, you wish it would just go away, to stab away your uterus and anything distinctively you. 
You stare blankly at the ceiling above you, tears beginning to prick at your eyes. They lie beside you, backs turned, a drastic change from when you guys used to hold yourselves close in warm cuddles. The thought of it seems too sweet. 
Sickeningly sweet to you. 
It’s 3:28 AM and you still can’t find yourself asleep from the tantalizing nightmares, waking up sweat-ridden and uneasy. You swallow, noticing how dry your mouth has gone, getting up like a mouse to get to the kitchen. 
The floorboards creak with every step you take, an eerie sound that makes the skin on your back prickle up - it’s award winning horror movie production at this point, a nightmare and then an overly done creepy scene. You scowl at a dark corner, hoping a random ghost would see it and run away. It’s something that would’ve made Ghost laugh at you, but you hate to even acknowledge him now. 
By then you’ve gotten some cold water for your thirst, taking small sips and crunching on the ice - wrapping your hands around your waist, feeling around the fat that has grown there. A natural consequence from your stomach getting so big during pregnancy, the baby coming out a large baby boy. 
You sob, feeling disgusted with yourself again. You need to see yourself in the mirror, is it that bad as it feels - you get up, heading to the bathroom near the kitchen to properly see yourself. 
That’s till you’re yanked into a strange body, you yelp into the stranger’s kiss, their hands gripping your body hungrily. You’re scared, their tongue almost entering your mouth when you don’t even know who they are.
 Their lips are cracked and rough against your own, making you cringe against them. But there’s no room for your judgeful expressions, already being eaten up by them. By this strange monster in your house, a hungry monster - one that’s starved of actual human affection, hands almost leaving bruises from how tightly they’ve dug into you. You scream a little bit, hand pounding itself against their chest to let you go. 
And they do, letting you breathe a bit before you knock yourself against a wall. Your movements are sloppy, tired and you’re scared. They grab you, holding you close to them. That’s when you finally get a good look at who they are. Buzzed hair, rugged-sad expression, abnormally large. You gasp, squirming against their grasp. “Don’t. Please.” He sounds desperate, begging you not to leave him. Again. 
“König! Stop-” He shushes you quickly, almost asserting dominance over you. And it makes you fucking mad.
 “I saw you. I saw you crying when you touched yourself.” König glares down at you, watching you scowl up at him. “Why do you care? You’re the one who left me.” You try pulling away again, but his hand feels like it’s iron-gripped on your wrists. Keeping you locked with him, close with him like never before. 
He goes quiet for a moment, swallowing. “I want to talk to you. Please.” Your faces are about inches away from each other, he looks tired - red tainting his under eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. “You don’t need me anymore König.” 
“You’ve shown me that already.” Your eyes look to the side as if it would be painful to make eye contact with him, and his grip relents. Watching you turn away from him to leave him, leave him alone once again. His knuckles clenched painfully, cheeks tainted in pink from embarrassment in himself. Suddenly you can hear footsteps following behind you, like he has something to counter your retort. 
“I need to talk to you.” Two stomps toward you. “I need to hear you.” You gasp when two hands suddenly pull you in for another kiss, your chests pressing together. But he pauses. “Do you want this?” You tense up, thinking about the consequences afterwards. This doesn’t feel right, none of it feels right. You don’t want him to kiss you, you feel a bit angry if that. 
“König… This doesn’t.. This isn’t right.” He softens, muscles relaxing from the previous adrenaline from you. “Let me go. Please.”
“I just want to do the talking. Don’t kiss or hug me, you know it’s not gonna fix anything.” 
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pattering rain hits your windows, light from the fireplace illuminating the small spot you were sitting in. 
He’s listening to you, listening to how you ached, what your life became when they left. You’re sitting there trying to suppress your urges to cry, just for the sake of not ruining this environment for you. Or maybe nothing is for you, maybe you’re doing everything just for them. He obviously sees that, and he truly meant it when he said he wanted to hear you - let yourself cry, let everything out please. 
“You broke me.” König’s nodding with his head tilted to the floor beneath him, like an embarrassed or guilty child. Your face scrunches up at the sight, you want to kill him. You don’t think he would stop you if you tried either. 
Each word is like poison on your tongue, he should know how you feel - he should know how it feels to be betrayed by people you thought loved you. How it feels to carry their offspring, unable to afford an abortion. Your fists clench by your sides at the sight of the room turning red, and the sight of König’s body somehow getting closer to you.  
Before you know it you’re landing punches to his jaw. Full of your brute anger that has been stored up for months, he’s letting it happen, grunting underneath you. 
But you want him to scream. 
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stormcloudrising · 10 months
Text
Secret Song of Florian and Jonquil Part 8: Jenny of Oldstones and her Prince of Dragonflies
December 7, 2023
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Jenny of Olstones by Jesse Ochse
This latest chapter is in response to an anonymous ask for additional information on a question I answered here, about what would have happened to Sansa if Lady was not killed. In responding to the question, I referenced how the show heavily used the dragonfly motif in Sansa’s costumes and what that implied about her story on the show that D&D didn’t carry through on, but more importantly about her arc in the books.
My response to the question elicited a request for further expansion on my comment about dragonflies and Sansa. It is a good question, and one I debated whether to answer at this time because to do so would reveal two theories I’ve been planning to propose in upcoming chapters of the series.
For many different reasons, it has taken me a long time to complete the series. Part of it has to do with the time constraints of my job, but a bigger cause is probably the difficulty in getting up the energy or excitement to write an in-depth analysis when George is taking so long to deliver the next book.
Nonetheless, I am going to answer the anonymous question, and I will propose one of my theories here as well because the question got my essay writing juices flowing again. Thus, though it was not planned, before the super rush of the holiday season gets here and the writing juices stops flowing, here is Chapter 8 of my Florian and Jonquil series.
It is slightly out of order, as this topic was scheduled for 2 to 3 chapters hence. However, it is not that out of place to follow the last chapter. And so, it’s time for Jenny of Oldstones, and her Prince of Dragonflies. I will attempt to show you how the legend of Jenny and her Prince rhymes with that of Florian and Jonquil and as a result, with Jon and Sansa.
"You may read it here. It is old and fragile." He studied her, frowning. "Archmaester Rigney once wrote that history is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. What has happened before will perforce happen again, he said.” A Feast for Crows – The Kraken’s Daughter
You may wonder why I am quoting Asha’s nuncle words about Archmaester’s Rigney’s teachings here, and it would be for two reasons. First, while Archmaester Rigney’s comment is George paying homage to Robert Jordan and the Wheel of Time, his words have great meaning in the story of ASOIAF. The past or rather events do repeat in ASOIAF, but not exactly. I would say that instead of a complete repetition, events in the story rhyme…possibly because of alternate timelines, but that’s for another chapter. It’s why we find echoes of the same story repeating over and over in the text and in-world historical references.
The second reason I’m including the quote from an Ironborn is because their myths…specifically that of Nagga the sea dragon has important implications in the story of Jenny; and Duncan, her Prince of Dragonflies. And as I will shortly show you, Ironborn myths…specifically the one about Nagga answers the question posed to me about dragonflies.
More importantly, this ancient myth has implications in the tale of Florian and Jonquil and thus ultimately leads us back to the current incarnation of those characters, Jon, and Sansa.
Before I get into answering the question about dragonflies, let me again state what I do in almost every essay, and that is, George like many great writers writes in symbolism—except he takes it up to the 9th degree.  As a result, this is one of the main ways I analyze ASOIAF. It’s not the only way to look at his magnum opus, but if you understand this, and you’re a fan of symbolism, whether mythological, literary or your garden variety type, I think you can discern clues and or pick up on possible answers to the great mysteries of the books.
I also suggest reading, if you have not done so previously, the earlier chapters of my Florian and Jonquil series. It’s not necessary to read all at this time, but you should especially read Chapter 7, Parts 1 and 2. In those chapters, I break down a lot of the symbolism that implies Sansa is a greenseer as well as discuss how this symbolism closely ties her to Nissa Nissa and the corpse queen, the two ancient female figures at the center of the book’s great mystery. This idea that Sansa is a greenseer heavily ties into the symbolism of the dragonflies.
In the two previous chapters of the series, I also discussed how Sansa’s name is a full anagram Nassa, which in Latin means weir, and how that and her little bird moniker among many other things, ties her to Nissa Nissa and implies that she’s a secret unknowing goddess of the weirwoods.
As you read this essay series, you should also always keep in mind that George has set up his weirwood net as a hive; and there is a hive mind theme running throughout. The interesting thing about hives is that they have queens, not kings. This is one of the ways you know that the legend of Ellyn Eversweet and the King of the Bees is a tale of usurpation of the rights of the woman. We know this because there is no such thing as a King Bee.
I also referenced Ravenousreader’s brilliant essay about George’s symbolic use of the sea as a stand-in for the astral plane to which the weirwoods grant access, and how Patchface mad rantings about “under the sea” are about what the fandom calls the weirwood net. You can read RR essay in this westeros.org thread here.
By the way, her theory was written years before it was confirmed on the show in season 6 Episode 2 when Bloodraven describes travelling the astral plane of the weirwoods to Bran as being “beneath the sea.”
Bloodraven to Bran: “It's beautiful beneath the sea, but if you stay too long, you will drown.”
Bran: I wasn’t drowning. I was home.
You can watch the clip from the show here at 2:42.
youtube
Of course, we’re not talking about real drowning because we’re not talking about a real sea. Rather George is using the sea as a metaphor for his astral plane version of the river of time.
Bran is not drowning because he’s being trained on how to properly swim the green sea. That’s part of the reason why they are so many dreamers impaled on icy spires in his first weirwood dreams. They couldn’t swim the green sea. There is other symbolism in the passage about the dreamers that have to do with the icy spires I may get to another time, but the point I’m trying to make now is that the green sea is dangerous to traverse…especially for those without training. You can become trapped by the weirwoods.
I mention RR’s essay so that you can understand that often when George references the green sea or other natural water tributaries in the text, he’s talking about the weirwood net and you should be on the lookout for symbolic greenseer activities. Often, these scenes symbolize someone trying to sneak into the green sea/weirwoods; escape from the weirwoods; or being trapped by the weirwoods, which are gnarly bridges across the green sea and can grant access to the special ones—the greenseers.
So, when you see a myth in the text like the Ironborn one about the Grey King, and his battle with Nagga, the great female sea dragon which he slew, you should stop and consider if there is more implied in that tale than that of a king killing a giant sea monster. Let’s look at what we’re told about this legend.
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Grey King Battles Naga; Complete Guide to Westeros - Game of Thrones - Season 1 Blu-ray Edition
The deeds attributed to the Grey King by the priests and singers of the Iron Islands are many and marvelous. It was the Grey King who brought fire to the earth by taunting the Storm God until he lashed down with a thunderbolt, setting a tree ablaze. The Grey King also taught men to weave nets and sails and carved the first longship from the hard pale wood of Ygg, a demon tree who fed on human flesh. The Grey King's greatest feat, however, was the slaying of Nagga, largest of the sea dragons, a beast so colossal that she was said to feed on leviathans and giant krakens and drown whole islands in her wroth. The Grey King built a mighty longhall about her bones, using her ribs as beams and rafters. From there he ruled the Iron Islands for a thousand years, until his very skin had turned as grey as his hair and beard. Only then did he cast aside his driftwood crown and walk into the sea, descending to the Drowned God's watery halls to take his rightful place at his right hand. —The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
George names his Nagga sea dragon after the real world mythological Naga of South Asian culture who are seen as demigods. 
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In various Asian religious traditions, the Nagas are a divine, or semi-divine, race of half-human, half-serpent beings that reside in the netherworld (Patala), and can occasionally take human or part-human form, or are so depicted in art. —Wikipedia
In Indian religions, Patala (that which is below the feet), denotes the subterranean realms of the universe – which are located under the earthly dimension. Patala is often translated as underworld or netherworld. — Wikipedia
Nagas are associated with bodies of waters such as tributaries, rivers, lakes, seas, and wells. They are also seen as guardians of treasure. In George’s world of ASOIAF, the weirwood net is the underworld, and what greater treasure might there be to guard than one that could give access to immortality. Keep this thought, as well as the fact that they are said to sometimes take half human form in mind as I will come back to both later.
The Ironborn gives us a legend about their ancient king killing a sea dragon. Were there such things as giant sea dragons in ancient Westerosi history, and might they still exist? Possibly. After all, the story has giant flying fire breathing dragons.
However, that’s not the point of the legend. Keeping in mind that George uses the sea to symbolize the weirwood net, might the Grey King’s slaying of Nagga be there to tell us something else. Might it be there to tell us not about a battle between a king and a sea monster, but rather about one in or over access to the green sea/weirwood net. Let’s see what else the books tell us about this legend.
On the crown of the hill four-and-forty monstrous stone ribs rose from the earth like the trunks of great pale trees. The sight made Aeron's heart beat faster. Nagga had been the first sea dragon, the mightiest ever to rise from the waves. She fed on krakens and leviathans and drowned whole islands in her wrath, yet the Grey King had slain her and the Drowned God had changed her bones to stone so that men might never cease to wonder at the courage of the first of kings. Nagga's ribs became the beams and pillars of his longhall, just as her jaws became his throne. For a thousand years and seven he reigned here, Aeron recalled. Here he took his mermaid wife and planned his wars against the Storm God. From here he ruled both stone and salt, wearing robes of woven seaweed and a tall pale crown made from Nagga's teeth. —A Feast for Crows - The Drowned Man
There is an overabundance of symbolism and clues drop by George in the above passage. I could have bolded the entire chapter, but I only did a few lines for this discussion. Here we see that Aeron’s thoughts about Nagga and the Grey King build upon what we’re told in the World Book. What I especially want to discuss now is his thought that Nagga’s stone ribs look like the trunk of great pale trees. Hmmm! Great pale trees…where might we have seen such a reference before?
The sun was sinking below the trees when they reached their destination, a small clearing in the deep of the wood where nine weirwoods grew in a rough circle. Jon drew in a breath, and he saw Sam Tarly staring. Even in the wolfswood, you never found more than two or three of the white trees growing together; a grove of nine was unheard of. The forest floor was carpeted with fallen leaves, bloodred on top, black rot beneath. The wide smooth trunks were bone pale, and nine faces stared inward. The dried sap that crusted in the eyes was red and hard as ruby. Bowen Marsh commanded them to leave their horses outside the circle. "This is a sacred place, we will not defile it." —A Game of Thrones, Jon VI
Nagga’s bones sound and awful lot like the limbs of a weirwood tree, but is that just happenstance? Let’s dig a bit more.
They seated the hedge knights well below the salt, closer to the doors than to the dais. Whitewalls was almost new as castles went, having been raised a mere forty years ago by the grandsire of its present lord. The smallfolk hereabouts called it the Milk house, for its walls and keeps and towers were made of finely dressed white stone, quarried in the Vale and brought over the mountains at great expense. Inside were floors and pillars of milky white marble veined with gold; the rafters overhead were carved from the bone-pale trunks of weirwoods. Dunk could not begin to imagine what all of that had cost. —The Mystery Knight
If those passages are not enough to convince you that the famous bones of Nagga are not of a giant sea dragon, but rather a weirwood tree cut down by Grey King to build his longhall, don’t forget that we have a more recent record in the text of an Ironborn king cutting down weirwoods to do just that. I’m of course talking about Harren the Black.
In his pride, Harren had desired the highest hall and tallest towers in all Westeros. Forty years it had taken, rising like a great shadow on the shore of the lake while Harren's armies plundered his neighbors for stone, lumber, gold, and workers. Thousands of captives died in his quarries, chained to his sledges, or laboring on his five colossal towers. Men froze by winter and sweltered in summer. Weirwoods that had stood three thousand years were cut down for beams and rafters. —A Clash of Kings - Catelyn I
The Grey King’s crown is another clue that Nagga’s bone are the limbs of a petrified weirwood. Note up above, it was said to be made from Nagga’s teeth and yet we also get this passage from the world book that seems to contradict this idea.
The Grey King built a mighty longhall about her bones, using her ribs as beams and rafters. From there he ruled the Iron Islands for a thousand years, until his very skin had turned as grey as his hair and beard. Only then did he cast aside his driftwood crown and walk into the sea, descending to the Drowned God's watery halls to take his rightful place at his right hand. The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
So was the Grey King’s crown made from the teeth of a sea dragon, or was it made of wood? George put the icing on the cake regarding Nagga’s bones being a petrified weirwood with this little bit about Galon Whitestaff, a past ironborn priest.
The power wielded by these prophets of the Drowned God over the ironborn should not be underestimated. Only they could summon kingsmoots, and woe to the man, be he lord or king, who dared defy them. The greatest of the priests was the towering prophet Galon Whitestaff, so-called for the tall carved staff he carried everywhere to smite the ungodly. (In some tales his staff was made of weirwood, in others from one of Nagga's bones.) —The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
In some tales Galon’s staff was made of weirwood and in others from Nagga’s bones. Seems obvious that George is deliberately conflating the two and wants the reader to do the same. What other evidence is needed?
The petrified bones of some gigantic sea creature do indeed stand on Nagga's Hill on Old Wyk, but whether they are actually the bones of a sea dragon remains open to dispute. The ribs are huge, but nowise near large enough to have belonged to a dragon capable of feasting on leviathans and giant krakens. In truth, the very existence of sea dragons has been called into question by some. If such monsters do exist, they must surely dwell in the deepest, darkest reaches of the Sunset Sea, for none has been seen in the known world for thousands of years. So say the legends and the priests of the Drowned God. —The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
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Nagga's Hill by Lake Hurwitz © Fantasy Flight Games
Those maesters, always questioning and discounting the ancient myths, but this time, they might be on to something.
This is all pretty strong evidence that Nagga’s bones are the limbs of a cut down weirwood and not those of a sea dragon. However, while not the bones of a sea dragon, there is one other option other than just a cut down weirwood tree, and this one may make more sense.
As proposed by many in the fandom, the bones that Aeron views upon the hill might be the petrified remnant of the Grey King’s longship, carved from the cut down weirwood tree.
The deeds attributed to the Grey King by the priests and singers of the Iron Islands are many and marvelous. It was the Grey King who brought fire to the earth by taunting the Storm God until he lashed down with a thunderbolt, setting a tree ablaze. The Grey King also taught men to weave nets and sails and carved the first longship from the hard pale wood of Ygg, a demon tree who fed on human flesh. —The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
A demon tree of hard “pale wood” that is said to have fed on human flesh. As there are major clues that men were sacrificed to the weirwoods in the books, this passage seems to imply that the Grey King’s longship was also made of that special wood. Ygg is of course, George’s homage to Yggdrasil, the world tree of Norse mythology.
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Viking Longship wreck - Roskilde Viking Ship Musem
It was there beneath the arch of Nagga's ribs that his drowned men found him, standing tall and stern with his long black hair blowing in the wind. "Is it time?" Rus asked. Aeron gave a nod, and said, "It is. Go forth and sound the summons."— A Feast for Crows - The Drowned Man
As you can see, a Viking longship more closely matches up to the arch of Nagga’s ribs than would be the case of an actual tree. Also, as Crowfood’s Daughter has pointed out in her awesome video essay series on the ironborn, for trees to remain curved or arched in the manner of Nagga’s ribs, they would need to retain their limbs of leaves.
We also see from this Jon’s passage that longships would have the shape of Nagga’s bones.
He swiveled the eye east and searched amongst the tents and trees till he found the turtle. That will be coming very soon as well. The wildlings had skinned one of the dead mammoths during the night, and they were lashing the raw bloody hide over the turtle's roof, one more layer on top of the sheepskins and pelts. The turtle had a rounded top and eight huge wheels, and under the hides was a stout wooden frame. When the wildlings had begun knocking it together, Satin thought they were building a ship. Not far wrong. The turtle was a hull turned upside down and opened fore and aft; a longhall on wheels. — A Storm of Swords - Jon IX
And as Jaime notes in ADWD, weirwood trees or the wood it generates never rot. It simply turns to stone over millennium.
"The Brackens poisoned it," said his host. "For a thousand years it has not shown a leaf. In another thousand it will have turned to stone, the maesters say. Weirwoods never rot." — A Dance with Dragons - Jaime I
There are lots of other passages in the text where boats are compared to sea dragons, including the one Petyr uses to take Sansa to the Vale. However, we are specifically discussing the Grey King, and so we’ll leave those other comparisons alone for now. Nonetheless, I’m sure that you can see that the textural evidence supporting the theory that Nagga’s bones are those of a petrified weirwood longship is quite strong.
You’re probably now asking yourself, what does the ironborn’s holy relic on Old Wyk whose legend is built around the myth of the Grey King slaying of a sea dragon have to do Florian and Jonquil or more specifically, the original question about dragonflies. That’s a good question, and so let me attempt to answer.
I said up above that battles in the sea or the pools of water are often meant to represent battles in the weirwoods or over the weirwoods to gain entry to their magic. So, if Nagga was not really a sea monster, but instead a weirwood tree or a longship made of weirwood, does this mean that the battle described in the Grey King legend was one such event? More importantly, if Nagga’s bones is a weirwood longship, who or what did the Grey King slay? You can cut down a tree, but would it be described as slaying? I don’t think so.
Let’s look at what else the books tell us about this Ironborn legend to see if we can discover the answer.
From the Aeron passage posted above, we discover that “Nagga had been the first sea dragon, the mightiest ever to rise from the waves.” We also find out in TWOIAF that the Grey King was said to reign for a thousand years and seven. In the books, when you hear of figures living for such a long time, one immediately wonders whether they were born greenseers or gain access to the weirwoods in some manner.
In the case of the Grey King, I think the answer is the latter. He was able to gain access to the trees. If this was the case, how did it happen? You may have missed it above when I posted the excerpt because I didn’t bold the text but another piece of his legend may give us a clue.
The deeds attributed to the Grey King by the priests and singers of the Iron Islands are many and marvelous. It was the Grey King who brought fire to the earth by taunting the Storm God until he lashed down with a thunderbolt, setting a tree ablaze. The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
What is described in the passage is basically the Grey King symbolically stealing the fire of the gods and using it to set a weirwood ablaze. In mythology, stealing the fire of the gods is about gaining knowledge…often that of immortality. And in ASOIAF, immortality comes via the weirwoods.
When you recognize that aspect of the myth, you can see that the Grey King legend is that of a man stealing the knowledge of the weirwoods, and the ones he stole if from were the old gods—the greenseers.
So, how did the Grey King steal the fire of the gods? Well, his mermaid wife; his battle with the Storm God, and another ancient myth may provide the answer.
The legends surrounding the founder of House Durrandon, Durran Godsgrief, all come to us through the singers. The songs tell us that Durran won the heart of Elenei, daughter of the sea god and the goddess of the wind. By yielding to a mortal's love, Elenei doomed herself to a mortal's death, and for this the gods who had given her birth hated the man she had taken for her lord husband. In their wroth, they sent howling winds and lashing rains to knock down every castle Durran dared to build, until a young boy helped him erect one so strong and cunningly made that it could defy their gales. The boy grew to be Brandon the Builder; Durran became the first Storm King. With Elenei at his side, he lived and reigned at Storm's End for a thousand years, or so the stories claim. (Such a life span seems most unlikely, even for a hero married to the daughter of two gods. Archmaester Glaive, himself a stormlander by birth, once suggested that this King of a Thousand Years was in truth a succession of monarchs all bearing the same name, which seems plausible but must forever remain unproved.) The World of Ice and Fire - The Stormlands: House Durrandon
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Durran and Elenei, Complete Guide to Westeros - Game of Thrones - Season 1 Blu-ray Edition
The legend of Durran Godsgrief and his wife Elenei has a lot of similarity to that of the Grey King and his mermaid wife. Too many for it just to be mere happenstance. It seems obvious that George wants us to consider the two, side by side, and so, what might he be trying to tell us?
They both married daughters of the sea. In the Durran myth, we learn that his wife Elenei was the daughter of the sea god while the Grey King is said to have married a mermaid. Both Duran and the Grey King also battled against gods…the latter against the storm god, while the former was said to have war against the sea god.
Taking the similarities of the two legends into account, it seems obvious that Elenei like the wife of the Grey King, was herself a mermaid, and that’ why she’s often depicted in this way in fan art. She is even depicted as a mermaid in the Complete Guide to Westeros featurette on the blue-ray edition of Game of Thrones Season One, which we have to assume was approved by George.
In GRRM’s mythological world of ASOIAF, mermaids are merlings and their leader is the Merling King. And he is considered a god. He is the sea god to who sailors pray.
Thirty different gods stood along the walls, surrounded by their little lights. The Weeping Woman was the favorite of old women, Arya saw; rich men preferred the Lion of Night, poor men the Hooded Wayfarer. Soldiers lit candles to Bakkalon, the Pale Child, sailors to the Moon-Pale Maiden and the Merling King. The Stranger had his shrine as well, though hardly anyone ever came to him. Most of the time only a single candle stood flickering at his feet. The kindly man said it did not matter. "He has many faces, and many ears to hear." — A Feast for Crows - Arya II
The interesting thing is that in real world mythology, and I suspect George is doing the same in ASOIAF, mermaids are sea nymphs. In some real-world cultures, they are called mermaids, and in others, sirens. And like in George’s tale, they are usually described as daughters of river or sea gods.
In many real world cultures such of those on the Asian and African continents, sea dragons such as Nāgas or the Watatsumi/Ryūjin of Japanese culture can take human or half human form…you know like the mermaids of our story. These sea dragons are also considered deities. They are sea gods.
As I’ve stated, George writes in symbolism, and there are multiple layers to his story. When he tells us historical legends, there is the surface story that you can read and interpret exactly as written and then there is the deeper symbolism that provides answers to the book’s mysteries. Usually, this hidden layer is about the weirwoods and events of the past.
The myths about Durran Godsgrief and the Grey King are two such legends that are filled with much deeper meaning and reveal much about ancient events. On the surface, they are traditional societal creation myths.
However, when you consider that the green sea and bodies of water are George’s way of symbolizing the weirwood net, as written about by rravenousreader, and confirmed on the show by Bloodraven, one can see that on a deeper level, these two legends are about accessing the weirwoods.
So, if Elenei was a mermaid who could assume both human and half human shape as is implied by her being a daughter of the sea god and the legend of her relationship with Duran, it means she was also a sea dragon. And if Elenei was a sea dragon, it also means that the Grey King’s mermaid wife was one as well. This revelation tells us a lot because, if Nagga’s ribs are not those of a sea dragon, but the petrified remains of the Grey King’s longship, which was made from the weirwood he set ablaze; as you can’t slay a tree, it can only mean that the sea dragon he slew to access the knowledge of the gods, was his mermaid wife.
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Grey King and his mermaid wife by Justin Sweet for the 2024 ASOIAF Calendar
I love this latest painting by Justin Sweet of the Grey King and his mermaid wife. I especially love the suggestion that she was a redhead, but back to the story at hand.
Nagga was his both his mermaid/greenseer wife and her weirwood tree. This is how he gained access to the weirwoods and immortality and was said to live for 1000 years and seven. This is why there are so many clues that the remains of Nagga on Old Wyk are those of a ship. It’s to tell us that the Grey King’s killing of his mermaid wife gave him the access and the knowledge to sail the green sea.
I’ve listened to and read many theories that discuss the likelihood that Nagga’s bones are either those of a weirwood tree and or a longship. What I’ve never seen is the theory I propose here that the Grey King killed his wife. This is not to say that the theory does not exist. After all, there are tons of theories about the story that I have not read, but back to Nagga.
As George is always consistent in his symbolism, this is why in Asha’s Wayward Bride chapter, the trees are always written as attacking her and the other ironborn. The trees memories are eternal, and they remember the actions of the Grey King.
Men and mounts alike were trotting by the time they reached the trees on the far side of the sodden field, where dead shoots of winter wheat rotted beneath the moon. Asha held her horsemen back as a rear guard, to keep the stragglers moving and see that no one was left behind. Tall soldier pines and gnarled old oaks closed in around them. Deepwood was aptly named. The trees were huge and dark, somehow threatening. Their limbs wove through one another and creaked with every breath of wind, and their higher branches scratched at the face of the moon. The sooner we are shut of here, the better I will like it, Asha thought. The trees hate us all, deep in their wooden hearts. — A Dance with Dragons - The Wayward Bride
Now there are no weirwoods mentioned in this passage, but there are weirwoods in Deepwood Motte. And throughout this Asha chapter, there are repeated passages that make it seem as if the trees are alive and out to get the ironborn. Northmen even cover themselves in branches and attack Asha’s party. It’s as if the trees see the ironborn as the enemy.
As an aside, I love The Wayward Bride chapter and it’s one I heavily recommend re-reading. Asha ran away from the man Euron promised her to as a bride…hence the title. However, if you re-read, instead of thinking of Asha as “the wayward bride,” think instead of her as “the weirwood bride,” and you will see the echoes of a story about a runaway magical bride in the ancient past. The chapter title is one of George’s best uses of wordplay in the series.
No, I’m not saying that Asha is a greenseer, only that the chapter is there to tell us about events past and present events surrounding a “weirwood bride” who may have run off to escape her husband or fiancé, or else been “stolen” away by her lover. Re-reading the chapter with this idea in mind is a smorgasbord of symbolism and clues about events, but back to the tale at hand.
Further to the idea that the trees remember and have it in for the ironborn, it’s quite likely that the Grey King did not escape punishment when he killed his sea dragon wife.   It is very interesting that Nagga’s jaws became the Grey King’s throne. When you look at how his skin is described as turning as grey as his beard, and him sitting inside Nagga’s mouth, it’s as if he’s trapped within the jaws of death.
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Grey King on his throne by Arthur Bozonnet for TWOIAF
This symbolism makes sense as weirwoods are traps for the unwary. That’s why George named it after a real-world weir, which is a trap for fish. So, while the Grey King killed the first greenseer, he did not get off scot-free. He was instead trapped by Nagga’s maw. He was trapped by the weirwoods.
This idea is echoed in images of the primordial Aztec Goddess Tlaltecuhtli.
One of Tlaltecuhtli’s most distinctive features is her gaping maw, showing flint knives for teeth and a protruding tongue. Her hands and feet are often clawed, bringing to mind both predatory birds and carrion-eaters. Above she is pictured with skull masks at her elbows and feet as well as in her hands. Her birth-giving posture connects her to frog imagery. The open mouth of the Tlaltecuhtli can be seen as a tomb — or as a womb. On the first page from the Tonalámatl de los Pochtecas the Earth Goddess appears, jaws wide, teeth exposed. Out of her mouth grows the tree of life. The tree of life growing from these jaws of death completes this picture of the earth as womb and tomb, and of the mouth and eating as analogous to birth and death. —Sacred Tours of Mexico
The ironborn believe that their Drowned God and Grey King are separate entities. I would argue that they are the same and this separation of the two on their part is simply confusion about the myth that developed over the millennium. The Grey King who slew his mermaid wife and the Drowned God who turned her bones to stone are one and the same because the two acts are separate descriptions of the same event. He’s both because he failed in his quest to take over and rule the weirwood net. He was trapped and drowned in his attempt to sail the green sea.
She fed on krakens and leviathans and drowned whole islands in her wrath, yet the Grey King had slain her and the Drowned God had changed her bones to stone so that men might never cease to wonder at the courage of the first of kings. Nagga's ribs became the beams and pillars of his longhall, just as her jaws became his throne. —A Feast for Crows – The Drowned Man
The Grey King built a mighty longhall about her bones, using her ribs as beams and rafters. From there he ruled the Iron Islands for a thousand years, until his very skin had turned as grey as his hair and beard. Only then did he cast aside his driftwood crown and walk into the sea, descending to the Drowned God's watery halls to take his rightful place at his right hand. —The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands: Driftwood Crowns
Sea dragons may or may not exist in the mythical world of ASOIAF, but we likely will never see one on the page. This is because the true purpose of their legend in the story is to tell us about female greenseers. They act as symbolic stand-ins for female greenseers, the original dragons of the green sea and provide clues on what happened to them.
Those of you who have read my previous essays likely remember my theory that because of the hive mind aspect of the weirwoods, we can deduce that the weirwood net was originally built around a queen, because as I noted, hives do not have kings. The sea dragon in the Grey King legend is said to be the first of its kind. Thus, the greenseer mermaid wife slew by the Grey King was also the first greenseer.
You also likely know my theory that Nissa Nissa was the first greenseer. If my theory about his mermaid wife being the sea dragon slew by the Grey King is correct, one can also see how this legend echoes that of Azor Ahai killing his wife Nissa Nissa; the Bloodstone Emperor usurping and killing his sister wife, Amethyst Empress; and the Winged Knight usurping Ellyn Eversweet. The latter being a tale of usurpation is not one I’ve seen discussed anywhere else in the fandom, and so you can read about it here.
How can all these ancient legends be of the same wife killing event, and why so many different names for the characters. Originally, I thought that the similarities and variations in the legends were a case of a world changing monomyth such as the great flood of our real-world myths appearing in so many different cultures. It could also be George simply creating different myths to drop clues for the reader to piece together. Both still maybe the case.
However, in the last few years, after reading more about GRRM’s other books, and reading a couple, I’ve come to embrace the idea that he’s playing with the theme of time travel that runs through many of his previous works. I think that we might be dealing with the same world changing event echoing through multiple timelines of the great cosmic ocean…hence the different names and the use of spiral motifs in both the books and show.
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Messier 61 in Constellation Virgo taken by camera on Hubble Telescope
The weirwoods, as we saw on the show and is hinted at in the books, are a time travel mechanism. A greenseer doesn’t physically travel through time, but they can send their consciousness into the past, and quite likely the future. As we see with Bran and Hodor, strong ones can have an impact on individuals who exist outside the river of time, and this means they can affect the timeline.
Bran is only the latest of many greenseers, one who has not yet joined with the hive mind. As such, I think it’s shortsighted to assume that he is the only such greenseer throughout history who has had an impact on or tried to change the timelines…especially since men—in the masculine gained access to the trees.
George is a chess player, and he has set up his story as a great chess match. Who the two great players are still must be determine, but one only must look at the Others, as well as Euron’s arc to see a couple of the possibilities.
In fact, as we see in this passage, which I’ve read a million times and totally missed until watching Crowfood’s Daughter recent video on the “The Third Head of the Dragon,” one of these entities may already be in contact with Euron.
I had a love once too. Victarion's hands coiled into fists, and a drop of blood fell to patter on the floor. I should beat you raw and red and feed you to the crabs, the same as I did her. "You have sons," he told his brother. "Baseborn mongrels, born of whores and weepers." "They are of your body." "So are the contents of my chamber pot. None is fit to sit the Seastone Chair, much less the Iron Throne. No, to make an heir that's worthy of him, I need a different woman. When the kraken weds the dragon, brother, let all the world beware." "What dragon?" said Victarion, frowning. "The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world. Her hair is silver-gold, and her eyes are amethysts . . . but you need not take my word for it, brother. Go to Slaver's Bay, behold her beauty, and bring her back to me." —A Feast for Crows - The Reaver
As Amanda asks in the video, who exactly is him that Euron speaks of? He’s speaking in third person, and so although we know he plans to rule over the charnel pits as a new god, he’s not talking about himself. Might it be the other chess player. It’s certainly possible. With the reference to Dany’s amethyst eyes, Euron’s possible association with Asshai and glass candles, I would say it’s the Bloodstone Emperor entity.
Here is the interesting thing about these repetitive ancient versions of the monomyth; there seems to be two versions of the tale of the female greenseer and her husband. One version is dark as with the ones I mentioned above including that of the Grey King killing his mermaid wife; and Azor Ahai killing Nissa Nissa where the kiss from husband to wife is of the steel variety.
The other version has softer romantic overtones as with Durran and Elenei; Florian and Jonquil; and yes, even the Night’s King and his corpse queen. There has been no indication thus far in the text that the male figures in these tales killed their female partner. In fact, their legends are just the opposite.
In the softer versions of the myth such as the one with Elenei and Duran Godsgrief, the female greenseer seems to have protected their mate...that is protected them from dying in the green sea. That is why Duran survived so many storms sent against him by the storm god. He drowned but like the myth of the Little Mermaid and her prince, he was given the kiss of life and brought back by his wife.
This is where I differ from Amanda and her wonderful video essay series about the Grey King. I don't think that his mermaid wife gave him the kiss of life. He killed her and she trapped him in the green sea...hence the Drowned God myth of the ironborn. And as he often does, George also gives us the opposite side of the myth in the same legend as we see in the ironborn doctrine of "what is dead will never die," and their practice of the "kiss of life."
Another tale that mirrors the ancient monomyth of the Azor Ahai/Nissa Nissa figures is the tale of Brienne’s ancient ancestor, Galladon of the Morne. However, it’s not quite clear where this legend falls. One wants to say it’s a more positive aspect of the myth because George names the male after the heroic Sir Gallahad of Arthurian fame, and we are told of the myth from Brienne, one of the most heroic personages in the entire series.
"Why would I lie?" she asked him. "Every place has its local heroes. Where I come from, the singers sing of Ser Galladon of Morne, the Perfect Knight." "Ser Gallawho of What?" He snorted. "Never heard o' him. Why was he so bloody perfect?" "Ser Galladon was a champion of such valor that the Maiden herself lost her heart to him. She gave him an enchanted sword as a token of her love. The Just Maid, it was called. No common sword could check her, nor any shield withstand her kiss. Ser Galladon bore the Just Maid proudly, but only thrice did he unsheathe her. He would not use the Maid against a mortal man, for she was so potent as to make any fight unfair." — A Feast for Crows - Brienne IV
Nonetheless, the Galladon/Maiden legend does have aspect of the darker side of the myth such as her gifting the “perfect knight” with an enchanted sword and “losing her heart” to him. Also note the comment that no regular sword could withstand her kiss. Lots of Nissa Nissa echoes in that passage, and George does like to upend traditional myths.
We’ve spent much time discussing sea dragons and mermaids and why they represent the seemingly missing female greenseers from the story, and now it’s time to move on to dragonflies, but before I do that, I want to briefly mention a bit of history about the Starks.
Even this did not give Winterfell dominion over all the North. Many other petty kings remained, ruling over realms great and small, and it would require thousands of years and many more wars before the last of them was conquered. Yet one by one, the Starks subdued them all, and during these struggles, many proud houses and ancient lines were extinguished forever.
Amongst the houses reduced from royals to vassals we can count the Flints of Breakstone Hill, the Slates of Blackpool, the Umbers of Last Hearth, the Lockes of Oldcastle, the Glovers of Deepwood Motte, the Fishers of the Stony Shore, the Ryders of the Rills...and mayhaps even the Blackwoods of Raventree, whose own family traditions insist they once ruled most of the wolfswood before being driven from their lands by the Kings of Winter (certain runic records support this claim, if Maester Barneby's translations can be trusted). Chronicles found in the archives of the Night's Watch at the Nightfort (before it was abandoned) speak of the war for Sea Dragon Point, wherein the Starks brought down the Warg King and his inhuman allies, the children of the forest. When the Warg King's last redoubt fell, his sons were put to the sword, along with his beasts and greenseers, whilst his daughters were taken as prizes by their conquerors. The World of Ice and Fire - The North: The Kings of Winter
If you analyze all the House names mentioned above, you will notice something in common about them, they all seem to be located at or close to water, or in deep forests where weirwoods would grow. Of course, there is no proving it unless George confirms the theory, but I would argue that these ancient houses that were conquered by the Starks were likely strong in either skin changing or greenseer abilities. And they held on to and married the daughters of the houses they conquered. This is why warg and greenseer abilities are so strong within the family. They have added the ability to their gene pool on many occasions over the generations.
Their war against the Warg King and the COTF at the suggestively named Sea Dragon Point is also very telling for all the reasons we previously discussed about sea dragons. And as we would expect, we see from this Wayward Bride passage that Sea Dragon Point is associated with weirwoods.
Asha tried to picture herself abed with Erik Ironmaker, crushed beneath his bulk, suffering his embraces. Better him than the Red Oarsman or Left-Hand Lucas Codd. The Anvil-Breaker had once been a roaring giant, fearsomely strong, fiercely loyal, utterly without fear. It might not be so bad. He's like to die the first time he tries to do his duty as a husband. That would make her Erik's widow instead of Erik's wife, which could be better or a good deal worse, depending on his grandsons. And my nuncle. In the end, all the winds blow me back toward Euron. "I have hostages, on Harlaw," she reminded him. "And there is still Sea Dragon Point … if I cannot have my father's kingdom, why not make one of my own?" Sea Dragon Point had not always been as thinly peopled as it was now. Old ruins could still be found amongst its hills and bogs, the remains of ancient strongholds of the First Men. In the high places, there were weirwood circles left by the children of the forest. "You are clinging to Sea Dragon Point the way a drowning man clings to a bit of wreckage. What does Sea Dragon have that anyone could ever want? There are no mines, no gold, no silver, not even tin or iron. The land is too wet for wheat or corn." I do not plan on planting wheat or corn. "What's there? I'll tell you. Two long coastlines, a hundred hidden coves, otters in the lakes, salmon in the rivers, clams along the shore, colonies of seals offshore, tall pines for building ships." A Dance with Dragons - The Wayward Bride
Note that the name of the peninsula is Sea Dragon Point as in a singular dragon, not plural. Also, notice how George casually throws in that wood for building ships can be found there. That George, always consistent.
I’ve talked a lot about sea dragons, mermaids, and ancient ironborn myths when this is supposed to be a chapter on Jenny and her Prince of Dragonflies; and how the two relate to Florian and Jonquil, and Jon and Sansa. Why so much ironborn?
Well, I went in-depth into the Grey King myth because I had to show you that seas dragons represent female greenseers. I had to show you instead of just telling you so you see my reasoning. More importantly, I had to do it this way so you will see the connection when I tell you that in the story, dragonflies should also be seen as sea dragons.
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Dragonfly - earth.com
In fact, dragonflies are literal sea dragons, because in addition to having the word dragon in their name, they are also born in the sea. Female dragonflies lay their eggs in water, primarily swampy areas like bogs and swamps. Dragonflies spend practically all their life around such water.
The female lays eggs by tapping the surface of the water repeatedly with her abdomen, by shaking the eggs out of her abdomen as she flies along, or by placing the eggs on vegetation. In a few species, the eggs are laid on emergent plants above the water, and development is delayed until these have withered and become immersed. They take about a week to hatch into aquatic nymphs or naiads which moult between six and 15 times (depending on species) as they grow. Most of a dragonfly's life is spent as a nymph, beneath the water's surface. —Wikipedia 
By the way, nymph comes from Ancient Greek and means bride.
Another interesting thing about the dragonfly is it is one of the few insects that can fly in all direction…forwards, backwards, up, down, and sideways. Thus, you can see that as sea dragons, they are the perfect symbolic representation of greenseers—individuals who can send their consciousness forward and backwards in time as it were.
This ability to fly in all directions is also present in a certain “little bird.” In fact, it’s the only bird that has this ability. The bird in question would be the hummingbird. Knowing George, do we think this is just happenstance…especially as the little bird is a popular sight in the American West and Southwest, with Arizona and New Mexico major stops in their migration progress.
The hummingbird reference is just an additional anecdote that supports my theory about Sansa being a greenseer, which I discussed here. Let me tell you another one about dragonflies that also has to do with New Mexico and the American Southwest, where we know that our author has lived for over 40 years.
Many fans have pointed out that the tale of Hades and Persephone play an important symbolic role in ASOIAF. I’ve gone further and pointed out how this legend is baked into the myth of the Nights King and his corpse queen. I’ve discussed how Arya’s childhood memory of the kids playing in the crypts wherein Jon covered himself in flour and stepped out of the crypt like a ghost does not just foreshadow his death, but also positions him as Hades, the King of the underworld, and Sansa who runs away in fear as Persephone. You can read all about this theory here.
I’ve discussed how Persephone was kidnapped from the Vale of Nysa, and what that potentially means when you consider the story of Nissa Nissa. I also covered how in Biblical times, the Vale of Nysa was mountainous and swampy, which echoes the area surrounding the river Styx that leads to the realm of Hades. This area was very like the Neck of ASOIAF, which is the entry point to the Northern underworld.
I’ve talked about how the real-world honey making Nysa deciduous also grows in bogs and swamps. If, as I’ve proposed, the corpse queen is a symbolic sea dragon because she’s a female greenseer and is also the Persephone character of the story, then it makes sense that she’s heavily associated with water, just as Sansa is via her Tully heritage.
As we see in the text, every time the word dragonfly is mentioned, it is associated with water. This includes reference to Oldstones in the Jenny and Duncan legend as that ruined stronghold sits on a hill above the blue fork of the Trident. Note that it sits above the “blue” fork giving it icy symbolism. As I keep saying, George is never not consistent with his symbolism.
The galley skimmed the water like a dragonfly, her oars rising and falling in perfect time. Ser Rodrik held the rail and looked out over the passing shore. "I have not been the most valiant of protectors."— A Game of Thrones - Catelyn IV
The galley was skimming downriver, a great wooden dragonfly. The water around her was churned white by the furious action of her oars. — A Storm of Swords - Jaime I
The sun was overhead, the world still and hot. Midges swarmed in the air, and a dragonfly floated over the stream, darting here and there. And the grass was moving when it had no cause to move. —A Dance with Dragons
To say again, dragonflies are symbolic sea dragons. And in the story, the myth of the sea dragon is one about the usurpation of the first greenseer who was female. So, when on the show we saw Petry give advice to Sansa that could have come straight out of the greenseer training handbook, it was hinting at something. This dialogue was the type that one would expect to come from Bloodraven to Bran, who we know is a greenseer.
You can watch the clip here, but I’ve transcribed the dialog below.
Don’t fight in the North or in the South. Fight every battle everywhere, always in your mind. Everyone is your enemy. Everyone is your friend. Every possible series of events is happening all at once. Live that way, and nothing will surprise you. Everything that happens will be something that you’ve seen before. —A Game of Thrones, Season 7, Ep 3
That is the advice you give to a greenseer in training. It’s also how great chess players think. What happens right after this scene with Petyr and Sansa, Bran the greenseer arrives. Now some will say that the comment from Petyr was to introduce Bran in the next scene but as I’ve always said, there were a million and one ways for them to have set up Bran and Sansa’s reunion without that piece of dialogue. This advice that perfectly describes a greenseer was not needed from Petyr to Sansa of all people.
This scene was one of the ways D&D hinted at Sansa’s greenseer abilities on the show without coming out and saying so. This is because to do so, would have upended their decision to have a Jon and Dany romantic relationship on the show, something I steadfastly believe won’t happen in the books.
Some other clues were the ringing of the bells all day at her birth, Arya’s, “she’s smarter than anyone I know, which came out of nowhere” and most importantly, the continued use of the dragonfly motif in her costumes. They were basically shouting in silence; Sansa is a sea dragon/greenseer.
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The show incorporated dragonflies into Sansa’s costumes in so many different instances and ways, that it’s clear it wasn’t just happenstance but deliberate on their part. It was embroidered into dresses; worn as a necklaces and pins; and of course, her Season 8 dress of scales shimmered like dragonfly wings. Many fans have commented on the use of sea dragon motif in her costumes before me, including @castaliareed who wrote about the dragonfly influence on her leather armor here. I really loved that fine.
Now, I want you to remember all the clues I and others in the fandom have discussed that point to Sansa being the Persephone of the story. Would you then be surprised if I told you that there is a dragonfly named after the Greek Goddess.
Aeshna persephone, Persephone's darner, is a species of dragonfly in the family Aeshnidae. It is found in northern Mexico and the southwestern United States. Its natural habitats are rivers and intermittent rivers.—Wikipedia
You can read all about its discovery in Arizona in 1954 here, but I copied a brief section below, because when I read the passage, I immediately saw echoes in a passage from the world book.
Aeshna persephone is most closely related to A. palmata, and appears to be confined to Arizona, whereas palmata has not been taken in that state. The name is suggested by the habitat of this large and colorful dragonfly. In contrast to the sunny streams and ponds favored by most of its North American congeners, it inhabits mountain streams which are lighted by the sun’s rays for only a few hours each day, though it ascends periodically through the forest gloom to the sun-lit mountain slopes.—Biodiversity Heritage Library
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Aeshna Persephone Darner
The passage above suggests that the Persephone dragonfly got its name from the dark mountainous area where it was discovered. Except for no mentions of swamps, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the rivers are such as that’s the natural habitat of dragonflies, the description reads a lot like the dark mountainous region of the river Styx that leads to Hades, which supports the theory I’ve proposed above.
Also, and this is very important, let’s not forget that our author has lived in New Mexico, smacked dab in the middle of the region that’s the native habitat for the Aeshna Persephone for over 40 years.
Dragonflies, like hummingbirds are prevalent in the American Southwest and are sighted all over the area. There are tours to their breeding grounds and hiking trails named after them all over the area. There is even a popular tourist attraction called Dragonfly Sanctuary Pond, the first of its kind in the country at the Albuquerque Bio Park in New Mexico.
Do we really think that George is not aware of the Persephone darner when he is so well read and knowledgeable, but more importantly has placed the myth of Hades and Persephone at the core of his ASOIAF legend of the Nights King and corpse queen. And it’s not just the inclusion of H&P myth, he also added dragonflies as an important symbol of his magical greenseers.
Yes. I think that it’s safe to say that George is aware of the Aeshna Persephone dragonfly.
The passage from the article discussing the discovery of the Aeshna Persephone also reminds me of this passage from the world book. I’m not sure it means anything, but the article was written in 1961 and so I’ve wondered if George came across it in his research. There is a fandom theory that Asshai was once the capital of TGEOTD, and thus would have been where the Bloodstone Emperor and the Amethyst Empress resided. Like I said, I’m not sure it means anything. In this instance, likely just happenstance, but I thought I would mention it.
On its way from the Mountains of the Morn to the sea, the Ash runs howling through a narrow cleft in the mountains, between towering cliffs so steep and close that the river is perpetually in shadow, save for a few moments at midday when the sun is at its zenith. — The World of Ice and Fire - The Bones and Beyond: Asshai-by-the-Shadow
So, let’s finally talk about Jenny and Duncan, her Prince of Dragonflies beginning with this passage from The Hedge Knight.
A hedge knight must hold tight to his pride. Without it, he was no more than a sellsword. I must earn my place in that company. If I fight well, some lord may take me into his household. I will ride in noble company then, and eat fresh meat every night in a castle hail, and raise my own pavilion at tourneys. But first I must do well. Reluctantly, he turned his back on the tourney grounds and led his horses into the trees. On the outskirts of the great meadow a good half mile from town and castle he found a place where a bend in a brook had formed a deep pool. Reeds grew thick along its edge, and a tall leafy elm presided over all. The spring grass there was as green as any knight's banner and soft to the touch. It was a pretty spot, and no one had yet laid claim to it. This will be my pavilion, Dunk told himself, a pavilion roofed with leaves, greener even than the banners of the Tyrells and the Estermonts. His horses came first. After they had been tended, he stripped and waded into the pool to wash away the dust of travel. "A true knight is cleanly as well as godly," the old man always said, insisting that they wash themselves head to heels every time the moon turned, whether they smelled sour or not. Now that he was a knight, Dunk vowed he would do the same. He sat naked under the elm while he dried, enjoying the warmth of the spring air on his skin as he watched a dragonfly move lazily among the reeds. Why would they name it a dragonfly? he wondered. It looks nothing like a dragon. Not that Dunk had ever seen a dragon. The old man had, though. Dunk had heard the story half a hundred times, how Ser Arlan had been just a little boy when his grandfather had taken him to King's Landing, and how they'd seen the last dragon there the year before it died. She'd been a green female, small and stunted, her wings withered. None of her eggs had ever hatched. "Some say King Aegon poisoned her," the old man would tell. "The third Aegon that would be, not King Daeron's father, but the one they named Dragonbane, or Aegon the Unlucky. He was afraid of dragons, for he'd seen his uncle's beast devour his own mother. The summers have been shorter since the last dragon died, and the winters longer and crueler."— The Hedge Knight
I included this long passage from The Hedge Knight not just to show a reference to a dragonfly in the text but to also show how George answers Dunk’s question while seemingly talking about the last fire dragon.
This is one of those passages I mentioned to be on the lookout for when you see a water reference in the text. In this instance because a dragonfly is present in the scene, you should pay particular attention. It’s basically a scene symbolizing the green sea/weirwood net.
Let’s start with how Dunk leads his horses into the “trees,” symbolically the weirwood net. And what does he find there, nothing but greenery because it’s the green sea. Spring grass as green as any knight’s banner; a tall elm tree with sprouting leaves even greener than the banners of House Tyrell and Estermont of Greenstone.
Interesting choice of house banners to reference…one that has “a rose” in a field of green, and the other that utilizes George’s favorite animal, a turtle, also in a field of green. Sigils that can be said to be floating in a sea of green.
I could also go into detail and post excerpts about real-world myths from many different regions of the world wherein ships are considered the horses of the sea, but you will have to just take my word for it. Thus, when Dunk takes his horses into the trees/green sea, you can symbolically see them as ships or sea horses sailing the green sea.
Where is all this greenery located? Well, it symbolizes the green sea and so, as one would expect, it’s next to a body of water. In this case, a stream that forms into a pool from which Dunk takes a bath.
Reeds are also growing deep along the edges, which tells you that this stream is also swamp/wetland like because that’s where reeds grow. And what is flying around in this green sea, a dragonfly…a sea dragon. Then Dunk wonders what’s difference between dragons and dragonflies. Why does the latter have that name when it looks nothing like a dragon?
As he’s wont to do, George gives the answer while seemingly talking about the last fire dragon. He incorporates the answer into all the green symbolism of the scene. Dragonflies maybe small, but they are green dragons of the green sea, and whatever happened to the original sea dragon, the first of her kind is why the weather has been out of whacked for thousands of years.
There is one other passage from The Hedge Knight that I want to mention because I think it’s one of the most important clues about the entire series. It’s the one where Prince Maekar offers Dunk a place in his household.
"That can be changed," said Maekar. "Aegon is to return to my castle at Summerhall. There is a place there for you, if you wish. A knight of my household. You'll swear your sword to me, and Aegon can squire for you. While you train him, my master-at-arms will finish your own training." The prince gave him a shrewd look. "Your Ser Arlan did all he could for you, I have no doubt, but you still have much to learn." "I know, m'lord." Dunk looked about him. At the green grass and the reeds, the tall elm, the ripples dancing across the surface of the sunlit pool. Another dragonfly was moving across the water, or perhaps it was the same one. What shall it be, Dunk? he asked himself. Dragonflies or dragons? A few days ago he would have answered at once. It was all he had ever dreamed, but now that the prospect was at hand it frightened him. "Just before Prince Baelor died, I swore to be his man."
Dragonflies or dragons? The conflict at the heart of the series. The sea dragons/dragonflies had access to the weirwoods and the fire dragons in the form of Azor Ahai, the Bloodstone Emperor and many other symbolic representations wanted access, which led to the killing of the first sea dragon/greenseer.
In a way, Dunk’s choice was a symbolic “hedging” of his bet or rather, putting off the decision. He chose the dragonfly, but he took the dragon prince with him. And later, he does fully make the dragons his choice, which leads to his death.
On the other hand, Jenny’s Duncan was a dragon who chose to be a dragonfly, but he never quite gave up his connection to his fire heritage, which also led to his death. However, I don’t think that Duncan’s Prince of Dragonflies’ moniker is just about him choosing Jenny over the dragon crown. And this is where my second theory of this chapter comes in.
I think it’s quite possible that George gave Duncan that moniker to indicate that he was a greenseer, or at least had the untapped potential. It could be why he sought out the Ghost of High Heart, which I think is what happened and how he met Jenny.
The GOHH is a woods witch and with her diminutive stature and association with High Heart, a location that was sacred to the COTF, and is centered around a major weirwood grove, she is likely either a Child of the Forest, or a human/COTF hybrid. George has not yet answered that question, but with her green dream visions, he clearly wants her associated with the COTF.
Thus, it makes sense for a dragon prince with sea dragon/greenseer abilities to be associated with the COTF for training as was the case with Bloodraven. Now, before anyone says that there is no way that Duncan could have been a greenseer, I would say to remember Bloodraven and their family heritage.
Duncan’s mother was Black Betha Blackwood while Bloodraven’s was Melissa Blackwood. The greenseer gene is strong within the Blackwoods. It’s why they war with the Starks in ancient times and were chased out of the North. It is from his Blackwood mother that Bloodraven inherited the greenseer gene, and so Duncan having the gene as well is a very real possibility.
Was Jenny also a greenseer? This can’t be ruled out considering the hints that she might have been related to the GOHH…possibly even a daughter or granddaughter. We don’t get much of a description of Jenny except that she wore flowers in her hair, which seems to be George wanting the reader to associate her with being a forest nymph.
She’s described as being strange and as a witch. Her connection to the GOHH would seem to suggest that she might have been a woods witch as well. She’s also closely associated with Oldstones, which is a full anagram for lodestone. A lodestone is a magnetic stone and in fantasy literature, it often has magical properties. So, Jenny could have been magical as well.
However, in this instance, I think that Duncan might have been the one with the ability and his Prince of Dragonflies moniker might indicate that he was in training, just as Bran, “Prince of the Green” is being trained by Bloodraven. Jenny might have been the lodestone that brought him to his mentor, the GOHH. But as I said, I would not be shocked if she also had magical abilities because it would fit thematically.
And those flowers she wore in her head, I think that there were probably wild white roses that she found on the grave of her ancestors.
Yet in the center of what once would have been the castle's yard, a great carved sepulcher still rested, half hidden in waist-high brown grass amongst a stand of ash. The lid of the sepulcher had been carved into a likeness of the man whose bones lay beneath, but the rain and the wind had done their work. The king had worn a beard, they could see, but otherwise his face was smooth and featureless, with only vague suggestions of a mouth, a nose, eyes, and the crown about the temples. His hands folded over the shaft of a stone warhammer that lay upon his chest. Once the warhammer would have been carved with runes that told its name and history, but all that the centuries had worn away. The stone itself was cracked and crumbling at the corners, discolored here and there by spreading white splotches of lichen, while wild roses crept up over the king's feet almost to his chest. — A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V
As we find out in this Sansa chapter from AFFC, the tale of Jenny and her Prince might be very similar to that of Florian and Jonquil in its sadness.
If the Eyrie had been made like other castles, only rats and gaolers would have heard the dead man singing. Dungeon walls were thick enough to swallow songs and screams alike. But the sky cells had a wall of empty air, so every chord the dead man played flew free to echo off the stony shoulders of the Giant's Lance. And the songs he chose . . . He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness. — A Feast for Crows - Sansa I
This passage which references both Florian and Jonquil, and Jenny and her Prince of Dragonflies also mentions the Dance of the Dragons. We know that while Jenny’s story involved dragons, it did not involve a Dance of Dragons, at least not of the fiery type. And it did involve betrayal.
We also discover in The Hedge Knight, that all the adjectives Sansa uses to describe the songs sung by Marilion could also be used to describe the legend of Florian and Jonquil. This includes betrayals; murder most foul; and a Dance of Dragons between two brothers with a woman at the center of the conflict.
I think that the latest Dance with Dragons will play out between Jon and Dany and Sansa will have a major role in this arc, because as I’ve been preaching throughout this essay series, she and Jon are the Florian and Jonquil of this iteration of the story.
However, as I noted when discussing the passage from The Hedge Knight above, not recognized by many is that there is also a dance between the sea dragon of the dragonfly variety and the fire dragon at play in the story. It’s been there since the fire dragon killed the sea dragon millennium ago to gain access to the weirwoods, and it’s a dance that continues through all the timelines iterations. And with that, let’s wind down this chapter.
In Part 2 of The Bear and the Maiden Fair, and in this brief snippet, I discussed why Sansa’s Tully heritage and other textural symbolism positions her as a sea dragon waiting to be awaken. Left alone, weirwoods don’t rot. They petrified and are turned to stone. The same can be said of weirwood goddesses. They may sleep and hibernate, but goddesses sometimes awaken. Weirwood goddesses or sea dragons sometimes awaken from stone, or better yet, awaken from under the name of Stone.
Don’t you ever wonder why George gave her a false moniker and a hidden princess storyline where she needs to awaken to reclaim her identity. It’s interesting when there is a major prophecy in the text about waking dragons from stone, and such prophecies usually have multiple and layered meanings…especially if as I’ve proposed, Sansa is the Sea Dragon Behind the Glass, as in a sleeping greenseer.
In his dream, Bran falls from the Winterfell eyrie and Bloodraven tells him to fly or die, meaning awaken to his full potential or die in the attempt as the was the case of many other dreamers who attempted to cross the weirwood bridge to the green sea. It’s not specifically stated in the dream that Bran is falling from the eyrie, but it’s implied with his habit of climbing to the top to feed the crows as he does to the one in his dream, as well as in his memory of Jaime pushing him. Then later in A Storm of Swords, George puts Sansa at the top of the Eyrie in the Vale and we get this scene.
So lovely. The snow-clad summit of the Giant's Lance loomed above her, an immensity of stone and ice that dwarfed the castle perched upon its shoulder. Icicles twenty feet long draped the lip of the precipice where Alyssa's Tears fell in summer. A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well. A Feast for Crows, Alayne I
You do have wings Sansa, and you will fly…possibly both symbolically and literally.
To the original questioner, I hope this very long essay answers your question of why dragonflies are important in the story and what it implies about Sansa’s arc. The length was necessary because I really had to go into the ironborn Grey King myth to show the symbolic importance of sea dragons in the story and why dragonflies should be considered the same.
With that, we come to the end of Chapter 8. The next chapter is going to be a fun one, and I’ve been looking forward to writing it for almost 6 years. In fact, I first started writing it about 6 years ago…even before the Florian and Jonquil series. It was only after I started the latter series that I realized the two were connected.
For this reason, I tabled the essay, until I got to the right part of the Florian and Jonquil series to introduce the theory. I didn’t expect to be doing it now, but the query about dragonflies which led to a discussion of the Grey King and other topic provides a perfect segue. I can’t tell you the name of the chapter as that would be a big spoiler. I will say that many will find it surprising, but it’s been one of George's shinny apples sitting out there in plain sight all along.
And so I leave you with this quote from Aeron Greyjoy.
"The Storm God in his wrath plucked Balon from his castle and cast him down, and now he feasts beneath the waves in the Drowned God's watery halls." He raised his hands. "Balon is dead! The king is dead! Yet a king will come again! For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger! A king will rise!" —A Feast for Crows, The Prophet
Yes. What is dead does rise harder and stronger, and a king shall indeed rise. Actually, two shall rise but only one will do so by the "kiss of life," and it's not Euron. Oh, and yes, I will be discussing the infamous unkiss.
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delicatebarness · 3 months
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cry baby | chapter twenty five
Summary: Cry Baby stands up for herself, however, when it leads to another confession... will she regret it?
Warning: Screaming, crying... throwing up?
Word Count:
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A/N: You asked, I delivered? - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B
Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst
Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick
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Replaying the evening’s events over and over in your mind, you were unable to find any peace in sleep or distraction in your art. You spiraled into a pit of overthinking. Bucky’s confession and Peter’s departure gnawed at you relentlessly. You couldn’t stand it anymore.
With the surge of frustration and need for answers, you stormed out of your apartment, called a taxi, and made your way to Bucky’s place. The city lights blurred as they drove by. The cool night air from the cracked window failed to calm your racing heart. 
When arriving at Bucky’s building, you rushed to his door, pounding with all your might. Your anger propelling you. Banging echoed through the hallway, and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. Bucky stood there with a look of surprise and concern. 
“What’s going on? Are you o–” he asked, but you didn’t give him the chance to finish. Storming past him into his apartment, your emotions were beginning to boil over. 
“Why, Bucky?” you demanded, turning to face him. Your voice was filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “Why would you tell Peter about the kiss? Why now?”
Closing the door, he turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I… I don’t know. I just couldn’t stand hearing him talk about you like… like he knew everything about you.” 
“You had no right to tell him!” you shot back, pacing the room.
His eyes flashed with frustration. “And, what am I supposed to do? Just sit there and listen while he goes on and on about how perfect everything is. Do you think that’s easy for me?” 
Your voice broke as you yelled. “This isn’t about you, Bucky! I was trying to move past it, and now you’ve ruined everything and made a mess!” 
Bucky stepped closer, and his breathing quickened. “I care about you, and seeing you with him… I know I messed up, but I couldn’t just sit and pretend it didn’t happen.” 
Your face flushed as your anger flared even hotter. “What about Leah? How do you think she felt finding out you kissed me? How did she react?”
His face twisted, a pang of guilt rushed through him and he hesitated for a moment. “She already knew.” 
You stared at him, frozen in disbelief. Your voice was small as your gaze searched his. “She what?” 
“Leah already knew,” he repeated, his voice softer, almost matching yours. “I told her right after it happened. We talked about it,” 
“Talked about it?” you echoed. “So, she gets to know the truth from you… But, Peter doesn’t get to hear it from me? How is that fair, Bucky?” 
He avoided your gaze, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I know it’s not. But, Leah and I… we have an understanding.”
Shaking your head, tears brimmed in your eyes. “You don’t get it. You don’t understand what you’ve done. You took that from me.” 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping closer again. “I never wanted to hurt you–”
Your laughter cut him off, the tension in the room growing. You turned away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself, shielding your emotions. “You keep saying that, but it seems all you do is hurt me.”
His frustration mounted, his voice rising again."I was trying to protect you!" he shouted, causing you to flinch as tears streamed down your face. "I didn't want you hurting any more than you already were!" 
You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn't done. His chest heaved with anger, and his voice boomed as he continued. "I've done things for you, things you don't even know about!" 
"What... what are you talking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you turned to face him again.  
He took a deep breath, his fists were clenched at his side, yet his body trembled. "I committed murder for you!" he shouted, the confession hung in the air like a storm cloud.
You staggered back, his words shocking you like a physical blow. “What… you did what?” you stammered with a shaking voice.
The man you had known your whole life, who had always been there for you, crossed a line you never imagined.
---
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abbysleftbicepp · 4 months
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The Thief And The Fairy.
An Ellie williams x Maleficent!reader au. Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5
an: finally introduced another character!! i’ve been so excited to get this chapter out just so we could meet her. This one is quite a short one, my apologies. Enjoy!
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A few hours had passed since Y/N had lost her wings, and she decided she shouldn’t let Ellie be her defeat. This was not the end of her story, taking her wings was only the start.
Snow had fallen upon the Moors, and clouds covered the forrest. The winds were heavier and the greens almost turned grey.
Y/N slowly started to get up, almost falling back down from the pain. She used the root of the tree behind her to push herself back up. She stared at the floor for a moment, thinking of what she could use to keep herself stable.
Thankfully, an idea came to her. Reaching down, the once winged girl picked up a twig from the ground. She used her powers to turn it into a long staff, with a large green jewel at the top. She then used the staff as a walking stick, as she wondered through the Moors, however she stumbled over once more. After a few moments, she got back up again.
Hatred and anger filled her face as she walked, she should have never fallen for the tricks of humans. She should have never given in to the temptations of the humans. She should have never welcomed Ellie back so easily.
Y/N found herself upon an abandoned, fallen down castle, where a crow squawked above her, then landing on some brick beside her. The girl used her magic and made the crow fly away.
The next day, Y/N came across a corn field that belonged to a farmer not too far from the Moors. She saw the same crow from last night, caught under a rope net. A dog was barking at it. The farmer laughed with joy.
“Hahaha!! I’ve got yer!!” He said before running off to grab a weapon so he could kill the bird. Y/N stood hidden in the tall grass, observing.
“You wicked bird!” The man yelled, getting ready to swing at it. Before he could do any harm, Y/N whispered a spell.
“Into a man..” She spoke softly, the magic dancing through her fingers and towards the crow.
The crow began to grow vastly, and it’s features became less bird-like and more humane. She stood up within the net, looking at her new body as her feathers quickly disappeared and her wings turned into hands. The farmer gasped, backing up. “It’s a demon!!!” He yelled before running away with the dog.
Once the man was gone, Y/N stepped out from her hiding and towards the bird girl. The girl looked at Y/N and frowned.
“What have you done to my beautiful self?” The girl questioned angrily but calmly.
“Would you rather i let them beat you to death?” Y/N retorted, defending herself. She looked at the bird girl, scanning her face. She was quite pretty. Her features were different to hers as a crow, for now she had long dark blonde hair and blue eyes.
“I’m not certain..” The girl responded, looking over her own body.
“Stop complaining. I saved your life.” The fairy spoke firmly.
“forgive me.” the girl looked down apologetically.
“What do i call you?” Y/N asked curiously.
“Abigail, preferably Abby.” She stated confidently. “And in return for saving my life, i am your servant. Whatever you need.” She announced.
“Wings.” The fairy spoke. Abby looked at her confused, so Y/N rephrased herself.
“I need you to be my wings.” She finished.
The two walked together through the field and towards the abandoned castle from the night prior, before Y/N turned abby back into a crow and sent her to the castle to be her wings and eyes.
At the castle, Ellie’s coronation and wedding to Queen Dina was taking place. Abby spied from an open window in the throne room.
The priest placed the crown on her head and started speaking.
“I present to you, the first of her line, Her royal highness, Queen Ellie.” Ellie stood up upon the priests words, and the town people cheered. After gathering all the information that was needed, Abby made her way back to Y/N.
After Abby explained the news to the fairy, anger bubbled in her blood.
“She did this… to me.. so she would be Queen?” Green flames rose from her staff, and as she screamed, the flames threw upward into the sky, creating a beam of light that all the kingdom and the Moors could see. It created a storm over the Moors, and everything became gloomy and dull. Queen Ellie spotted this from her balcony, she knew that something bad was coming for her.
Y/N finally made her way back to the heart of the Moors, where the people gasped at her.
“Her wings..” Thistlewit whispered sympathetically.
The once winged girl walked towards a tree and sat down. the branches created a spine-like throne where she would spend her time in the near future. Abby, in crow form, sat upon her hand. Two of the Spriggan folk stood by her side, as if they were guarding her. They ordered the people of the Moors to bow down at Y/N, and so they did as they were told.
taglist: @seraphicsentences
let me know if you wanna be notified for the next part! 💗🌸🌿
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gotham-daydreams · 11 months
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Hun you have probably heard this before but take all the time you need and more! Lol. It's your fic, your idea and there is no need to stress on getting it out so fast. You lose nothing if some people ever get bored of waiting, but honestly i know many (including myself) who have waited double digit months for someone to update their fics. Anyway this is just my short way of saying that It's alright to just relax and have fun. Hope this didn't come off too rude or like im making assumptions about you, if you feel no stress, good. 🖤 And even if tumblr ends up lagging due to the lenght of the fic, you could always split it into two like you talked about before. Take it one step at a time, can't wait to find out what happens next!
Nono you didn't come off as rude or anything at all! Thank you so much for your kind words and everything, they mean a lot 💛💛💛
Though I do feel bad for taking so long since I have been working on it for a while, and even if I will prioritize the quality of Part 3 over getting it out as soon as I can, I am still trying to get to a point where I can get it out in a reasonable amount of time for you guys! And also hopefully produce a Part 3 that will make the wait worth it- even if the length doesn't exactly say anything about the quality of the chapter itself.
Which, trust me, I never intended for Part 3 to be as long as it's becoming now 😅, as I said a bit earlier on another ask, some of the moments that were supposed to be "small/short" are, in fact, not what most would consider short at all :']
I'll be honest and admit that back when I started writing Pt. 3 in September, I honestly thought that the length would be somewhere in between Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 (so about maybe 3/5k - 10k words), only for us to be here. Where Pt. 3 might end up being, (funnily enough) almost 3 times the length of Pt. 2- which I suspect to be around 10k words since by the time I reached 10k on Pt. 3, it was just about as long as Pt. 2.
Pt. 2 alone made tumblr lag on my end, so that's why the length of Pt. 3 is making me so nervous, and though I will split it into two parts if I have to- I will try to keep it as one whole part since, again, I do believe that it's better read that way.
Which, I also keep commenting on the length and everything since, well- Pt. 3 isn't done yet. And I can only look on in slight horror as I keep writing, and knowing I'm not even at the ending yet :']
Regardless of all of that, however, I do deeply appreciate all of you who are waiting, and thank you for your patience and time! I know I haven't been the most active or anything, but I do appreciate everyone and all of the support I've been receiving!! Recently I've reached 1k followers- and have been also trying to think of what to do for that, since that's a huge milestone! And I want to properly thank everyone for the support and everything, but still don't have many ideas for that at the moment :']
Still, thank you so much for everything!
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its-jaytothemee · 6 months
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Until I Met You - Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Onward
Pairings: Halsin x Tav
Word count: 4,521
Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.
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Summary: A slow burn Tav and Halsin romance fic about their relationship forming between the major events of Baldur's Gate 3, and probably a little bit after too. Explores Tav's friendships with all the other companions, but mainly Karlach. Lots of longing and fluff, including plenty of soft Halsin moments.
Tags: Slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions, eventual smut, light angst, implied past rape/non-con, description of injuries.
A/N: I took my BG3 party into the Underdark at too low of a level and paid the price. But what is an almost TPK but a good excuse for hurt/comfort in the fic? Karlach also tries very hard to be a good wingwoman.
Tav awoke the next morning to a warm, wet feeling sliding over her face. Scratch was looming over her, licking her cheeks. She sputtered a bit and gently pushed him away.
“Good morning, buddy. Yes, yes, your breath is the perfect hangover cure.” Tav felt her head reeling from last night’s activities. She nudged Karlach awake using one of the empty bottles, there were more surrounding them than she remembered.
Stretching her arms and legs was more difficult than expected, her stomach lurched at the movement.
“Oh Gods…I’m too old for this.” She leaned over with her hands on her knees to steady herself.
“Me too, soldier. Me too.” Karlach had only made it up to one knee. Half of her hair was tangled around her undamaged horn.
“I see you two got your beauty sleep.” Astarion’s voice sounded behind them.
“Ugh…not so loud.” Tav waved her hand at him. She was trying to shake the sand from her hair.
“Run a comb through that hair, darling. Halsin wants to speak with you.” He winked at her as he turned to walk back to camp.
She splashed some cold water on her face, taking a cupped handful and dumping it on Karlach as well. Her hair was a disaster, so she just tied it back out of her face. The tieflings had already cleared from their camp, no doubt they were anxious to get on the road to Baldur’s Gate.
“Good morning, I trust you enjoyed your evening?” Halsin called out to her.
“What gave it away?” Her eyes were still adjusting to the morning light. He snorted in response.
“There are worse ways to wake up than next to a friend with matching hangovers.” His eyes shifted over to Karlach, who was laying on the ground again. Tav couldn’t help but smile affectionately.
“Regardless, it was well deserved after all your efforts. It may be some time before you’re afforded another such night. There is much to be done, and I promised I would help you however I could.”
Tav nodded along as he spoke, working to push the fog from her mind.
“I’m certain a cure can be found for you at Moonrise Towers, but it’s…complicated. The journey specifically is particularly perilous.”
Tav sucked in a sharp breath and bit her lip. She still wasn’t certain that they should be going to Moonrise. Halsin heard her and shifted his gaze to the ground.
“Halsin, how sure are you that we have to go to Moonrise?” She asked. Her voice was small, quiet, and not just because of the incessant pounding in her head.
“I am certain. In the goblin camp, I heard the destination mentioned constantly.”
“Fuck.” She grumbled.
“What’s wrong with Moonrise?” Karlach had finally gotten up and joined them.
Tav and Halsin shared a knowing look, she nodded to him to take the lead.
“To get to Moonrise Towers, we must pass through a terrible place – a cursed place.” Halsin turned to address the rest of the camp. “The curse shrouds the entire land in shadow. Nature cannot thrive here, there is no life, no light.” He spared another glance toward Tav, but she couldn’t meet it.
She squeezed her eyes shut, convincing herself to keep tears from forming in her eyes. Desperately trying to keep the memory of her brief time at Moonrise out of her mind. It had been a century, yet the pain still plagued her.
“Any beings who linger are twisted by the shadow curse into tormented, dangerous souls.” Halsin’s voice was quiet, and she could feel his eyes on her.
“How have the Absolute’s forces been able to tolerate it?” Tav spoke up again, still looking at the ground.
“I’m not sure, but we will have to plan our approach carefully. There are two routes of which I am aware. The mountain pass, quicker at first but we cannot avoid the shadow curse entirely.” He took a deep breath. “You could also go under. I have heard of a secret passage in the secret temple of Selûne. Supposedly, it contains a passage through the Underdark to Moonrise.” So, her hunch was right, there was a pass through the Underdark.
“That’s why you went with Aradin, isn’t it? You hoped their search for the Nightsong would lead you to the passage.” Tav guessed.
“Precisely. But in my eagerness, I put far too much faith in Aradin and his band. We didn’t even get close.” Halsin sounded ashamed.
“We found the entrance to the secret temple of Selûne. We should be able to pick up the trail from there.” Tav took a deep breath, finally accepting that one way or another, she would be going back to Moonrise.
“Already? If only I had met you before Aradin.” He let out an impressed laugh. Tav tried to return a smile, but the shadow curse now weighed heavily on her mind.
“We will work our way to the Underdark as soon as we pack up camp here.” Tav decided.
“Thank you all, for allowing me to join your camp. I will offer my skills and counsel whenever possible. I have long awaited a chance to return to Moonrise.” He paused and looked Tav in the eyes. “It seems our fates are aligned.”
***
Halsin stood awkwardly in the center of camp as his new companions dispersed around him. This newfound freedom was refreshing, he was able to enjoy nature outside of the confines of the Emerald Grove. Still, he was unsure of how he would fit in with this group. The last time he set out with a strange group of adventurers, he ended up locked away and tortured for days.
To be fair, this group was far different than Aradin’s band of mercenaries. Aradin was a harsh, selfish leader. Halsin wasn’t even sure if he could call him a leader with the way he treated his followers. He saw how easily he abandoned those who had joined him on his quest. Aradin had left the injured behind as he ran away. The one night he spent in a camp with the group was enough to drive him to near madness.
But with these unlikely companions, he could already feel a difference. He already witnessed their ability to fight, as well as their ability to watch out for one another. They had laughed and mingled with the refugees that had been in their camp, inviting them to share their campfire. Even now, they worked together to clean up their belongings. Tav moved between everyone, checking in on them and helping roll the large pieces of canvas and taking stock of their supplies. He found himself smiling as he watched her, feeling another pull in his chest. Her advances from the night before were still fresh in his mind, stirring him to his core.
No, you must stay focused. You’re so close now.
The feeling of a wet tongue on his hands startled him out of his fantasy. The shaggy white dog he had seen prowling the camp had wandered over to his side. Halsin knelt down to pet him.
“Hello, you’re quite the handsome creature.” He said, scratching his ears.
“Hello, new friend. Mistress says you’ll be joining us now. I’m called Scratch.” The dog’s tail was wagging furiously.
“I suppose I am.” He couldn’t help but smile around dogs, they were such happy and loyal animals. Scratch sniffed around him quickly, his ears perking up a little bit.
“You have a different scent to you. Not bad, but different.” He sat back down, and his head cocked slightly to the side.
“Such a good nose. I spend time around all different sorts of animals, nothing to be worried about.” Halsin assured him, Scratch seemed content with his answer.
“You’re lucky to join us. The nice people rescued me after my last Master was killed. The Master with the pointy ears says I’m the most handsome one in camp.” Scratch looked over towards Astarion.
“Well, I think he might be right.” Halsin gave him one more pat on the head before standing up.
“Keep well, friend. I’m going to see if Mistress will bring back my friend to play for a while.”
Scratch trotted off to the bushes to grab something before going up to Tav. Her face lit up and she knelt to rub his ears. He could just barely make out their conversation.
“Could I play with sister? I found a toy.” His tail was wagging faster and faster, he dropped a small red ball at her feet.
“Sure, I’ll call her forward.” Tav let out a loud whistle and her wolf companion, Lunari, appeared by her side. She immediately knelt into a playful bow when she saw Scratch. Tav picked up the ball and tossed it into the bushes, causing both canines to sprint after it. Tav and the wizard, Gale, laughed as they watched the two of them playing. He found himself smiling along with them.
Yes, this group is much different than the last.
“Hey, bear man!” Karlach’s voice called from behind him. “I could use another set of tall limbs to take this stuff down.”
“Happy to help.” He grabbed the canvas at the top of her tent and tugged, bringing the whole thing down to the ground.
“Thanks! It’s nice to have someone else with some reach around here.” She beamed at him.
He helped her fold up the fabric and gather some of the various items lying around.
“So, Karlach, you and Tav seem to be close friends. How long have you known each other?”
“Tav and I? Oh, we just met about 4 days ago. Helped save me from some assassins Zariel sent after me. But yeah, I suppose we are good mates now.”
“Only 4 days? I would have thought you two grew up together from the way you spoke.” Halsin chuckled.
“What can I say? You may not believe me after her crazy stuttering yesterday, but she’s incredibly easy to talk to.” Karlach was stuffing a small toy bear into her pack as she spoke.
He spared a glance at Tav who was currently vomiting into the bushes.
“Even if she can’t handle her wine.” Karlach laughed. “Thanks for the help, want me to help you get your things together?”
“That won’t be necessary. I don’t really have any things. I brought a pack with some medical supplies and a couple of notebooks, but that’s about it.” He patted the bag slung around his back.
“What about your tent? Or a bedroll? I don’t think we have any extras.” Karlach looked around her, perhaps hoping that one would have magically appeared.
“You’re very kind to worry about me, but I don’t need such amenities. I’m happy to be resting under the stars and amidst the Oakfather’s creations.” He sighed happily at the thought. Karlach had a big grin on her face suddenly.
“Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure there’s someone here who would let you share. You know…in case you get cold. Or lonely.” Karlach was still grinning, and he caught the very quick change in her gaze as it momentarily shifted to Tav. He couldn’t help but laugh at her matchmaking attempt.
Good mates indeed. If only you knew, Karlach.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll see if I can’t get our leader feeling a bit better before we head out.”  He stood up with a grunt, leaving Karlach with a proud grin on her face.
Halsin made his way over to Tav, who was finally standing up straight.
“I uh…I’m thinking year 207 is officially the year you’re too old to drink all night.” Tav wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.
“207? Please, wait until you get to be my age. You’ll barely want to look at a bottle.” Halsin teased. “Come here, my friend. Let me get you back on your feet.”
“No, don’t waste any healing on me right now, I’ll manage.” She waved her hand in front of her face, causing her skin to take on a bit of a sickly, green tint.
“I insist. I’m sure there will still be plenty to go around after helping you. Besides, I noticed some burns on your hands that will make moving all this equipment difficult.”
She looked down at her palms, apparently trying to figure out where they came from. Finally, a look of realization popped up on her face.
“Oh right…I accidentally touched Karlach a couple of times.” She remembered.
“May I?” He reached out to her, and she nodded in response.
He gingerly held her hands in his outstretched palm. His other hand covered the burns. The small blisters slowly faded away as he murmured the simple incantation, the words coming as easily to him as his own name. Even after all these years, he still hadn’t tired of the feeling of healing another living soul. The way their aching muscles or splitting skin would relax under his hands, the look of joy and relief on their faces as the pain vanished.
The familiar feeling came over him tenfold as Tav smiled up at him, causing his knees to buckle slightly. Her skin was returning to its normal color, and the blisters on her palms had transformed back to her smooth skin. He kept his eyes fixed on her hands resting in his. Letting out a shaky breath at the sight, he thought of how badly he wanted to keep holding them there.
“Halsin? Are you alright?” Tav spoke softly, her brow furrowed as she looked up at him.
“Y-yes. Quite alright.” He let his hands drop from hers.  
“Thank you…I feel much better. Once again, not making a great impression I fear.” She chuckled nervously.
“What makes you say that?” Halsin tried to meet her gaze, but she looked off towards the trees.
“Well, it’s not exactly a great quality in an ally to start the first day of an important journey hungover as all fuck. Not to mention, I can’t help but feel I perhaps came on a little too strong last night. I got a bit caught up in the moment and…I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position.” The now familiar blush returned to her face.
“Cast those regrets aside, you were celebrating a great deed with your friends. And there are few things too strong for me. You did not get caught up in the moment you seized it.” She seemed to relax a little at his response, which is why he surprised himself with the next words that came out of his mouth.
“Under different circumstances, I would have done the same.”
Her head snapped forward again at his words, one eyebrow raised.
First day out of your Archdruid position and you lose all your self-control? Oh Tav, please let it drop this time.
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t leave a bad impression, then.” She said slowly, trying to conceal a smile.
“I’ll help get some of these tents packed up. Can’t have anyone thinking I don’t pull my weight around here.” He gave a small nod before turning to walk away, desperate to conceal the blush he felt coming over his face.
***
Tav kept her eyes on Halsin as he walked across the small camp. She felt even more confused about him now. After their other conversations though, she didn’t want to push the subject any further. She was certain that she had made her thoughts known over the last two days, if he felt anything as well, he would say so when he was ready. He was already proving to be a kind and valuable addition to their group, she would hate to push him away.
Under different circumstances, I would have done the same.
The words played over again in her mind. There was a sadness to the words that she couldn’t quite place. She thought back to their brief discussion of Moonrise when they first met, he said they could perhaps see the light again there. Something told her his eagerness to join their adventure wasn’t just to deal with the Absolute. Any living soul who has witnessed the shadow curse was likely forever changed by it and by the way Halsin spoke, she guessed that he was there when it was unleashed.
A high-pitched squeal pulled her from her thoughts. Karlach had bounded over next to her.
“That looked like it went well!” Karlach was dancing in place, eager to hear what Tav had to say.
“You’re being weird.” Tav smiled as she walked to her tent to finish packing.
“Come on, tell me!” Karlach begged.
Tav recounted her conversation with Halsin, leaving out her observations surrounding the shadow curse.
“Oh, he likes you mate. Just you wait, you’re gonna ride that bear before we make it to Moonrise.”
“KARLACH!” Tav half yelled, half laughed.
“What? Excuse me for rooting for you to get some action. I have to experience it through someone since I can’t touch anything without singeing it to bits.”
“If you’re going to stand here teasing me, at least make yourself useful.” Tav rolled her eyes and threw her bedroll at the large tiefling.
“Taaaaaaaavvvvvvv!” Astarion’s voice called from across camp.
“Actually, you know what, why don’t you go help Astarion with his instead. Otherwise, we’ll never get on the road.” She joked. As Karlach jogged over to his tent, Tav let her eyes wander back to Halsin, playing their conversation over again as she packed up her things.
*
Since they had ventured there already, the trip back to the temple was an easy one. They had left a magical sigil in the underground temple, allowing them to travel there easily with a simple incantation from Gale. A second later, they were all teleported to the Underdark, taking a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the darkness. The musty smell around them was a sharp contrast to the air above ground. Although, she had to admit there was a strange beauty to her surroundings. The glowing crystals and mushrooms bathed everything in soft, colorful lights.
“First time in the Underdark?” Halsin asked, setting some of their packs on the ground.
“Yes. I didn’t expect it to be so…enchanting.” She looked through the bars of the temple that overlooked a large section of land.
“Yes, an entirely different world and an incredible feat of nature. But it is as enchanting as it is dangerous. Do be careful as you explore, there are many hidden threats.” He warned.
“Okay then, we should probably scout ahead a bit before we decide where to make a camp. Who wants to come with?” She asked.
“I’d like to explore this area a bit more. I’ve always been somewhat fascinated with the Underdark’s ecosystem.” Gale piped up from the back of the group.
“I’ll join as well. I’m awfully used to prowling in the dark after all.” Astarion was strapping a couple of daggers to his belt.
“Anything to get me out of this heinous temple.” Shadowheart was visibly disgusted by the building around them.
“Great, grab your shit and let’s get moving.” Tav called, checking her supply of arrows. Lunari padded up beside her, ready to accompany them.
***
All in all, the four of them were probably only gone for two hours before they came limping back to the temple. Astarion had Gale’s arm around his shoulders on one side, helping him walk. On the other side one of Tav’s arms was draped around his shoulder and neck. Shadowheart had the other and they were dragging Tav back in, unconscious, one of her legs a torn, bloody mess. Lunari trotted alongside them, whining and headbutting her. Halsin ran to the iron doors at the entrance of the temple.
“You guys weren’t gone long. Everything o –” Karlach started to call out but let out a loud gasp when she saw Tav. “Fucking hells! What happened?”
“Everything happened. Think of a creature and we probably found one and fought it off.” Shadowheart snapped back.
“Why didn’t you heal them?” Karlach asked, pacing nervously.
“I did! This is what’s still left over, I could barely keep her alive. I’m tapped out.” Shadowheart was breathing heavily.
Gale let go of Astarion and limped over to a bench. A large cut ran down his right temple. Halsin quickly looked over the four of them, out of all the injuries Tav’s were by far the most severe.
“Bring her over here.” Halsin pointed to a table nearby. Wyll cleared all items from the table as Karlach and Lae’zel lifted her up to lay on the old wooden surface.
“What creature did this?” Halsin asked, slowly moving the fabric around her legs out of the way. The right thigh had a huge laceration running down its length. Her left lower leg was shredded, tassels of sinew and skin hanging in various directions. One bone was broken in half. As he looked her over, he also noticed a very large puncture wound in her abdomen, but it looked like it had at least been partially healed. This had to be one of the worst injuries Halsin had seen in some time. Tav’s breathing was shallow, her eyelids fluttering slightly.
“Minotaurs. Two of them ambushed us not far from here on our way back. We already had the absolute shit beat out of us by a spectator, then a bulette.” Astarion was kneeling on the ground, catching his breath.
“A bulette?” Halsin asked, trying to keep his curiosity from distracting him.
“Also, some Drow that had been petrified for gods know how long.” Gale had grabbed a cloth to press against his head wound.
“Don’t forget the exploding mushrooms, darling.” Astarion was leaning against the doorway now.
“You mean the ones I told you to leave alone?” Shadowheart snipped. Astarion just made a face back at her.
“I’ll need some extra hands, whoever has the stomach for it.” Halsin started calling out instructions. Lae’zel and Wyll both stepped up to his side.
“Lae’zel, remove her armor, starting with her legs. Cut it off if you must. Wyll, there is a large, purple pouch in my pack. We’ll also need plenty of cloth to bind wounds. I doubt I will be able to heal all of this in one evening.”
Blood was starting to pool under her legs and seep into the wooden table. There was no way he could get all of these wounds taken care of in one session, not on his own. Shadowheart was already exhausted, and Tav was the only other one of them with healing magic.
Think, Halsin, think…the burns!
“Karlach, I’m going to need your help.”
“How? I can’t touch her without burning her.” She came and stood next to him.
“Precisely. I need to cauterize the thigh wound. She’s losing blood and I need time to get everything in place.”
“If you say so…” She held her hand tentatively above Tav’s leg.
Halsin made sure all her clothing was out of the way before he had Karlach press her hand into the bloodied skin. The smell of burning flesh filled the air around them, causing a few groans and gags from his new companions. Tav’s leg spasmed slightly, but he held it down. He pointed to the different spots for Karlach, who was grimacing with each touch.
“Okay, that should do for now. Well done.” He dismissed Karlach.
Halsin set to work, first cleaning the other leg wound best he could. Luckily with Tav already unconscious, he didn’t have to be as gentle. She likely wasn’t feeling much pain at the moment. He ground up a large mixture of healing herbs, pressing the fragrant paste into the hole in her torso. Her skin was slightly cool to the touch, with a light layer of sweat coating her entire body. A raspy groan slipped from her lips.
Hold on, Tav.
Once he was confident the wounds were clean, he began the healing spells. He had to work slowly, going too quickly could cause additional scarring and lingering pain when a limb was in such shape as this. He finished his first healing spell and waited a moment, giving the flesh a chance to react to his words. After a deep breath, he started the incantation over again, still concentrating on her tattered leg. He repeated the process over and over again, moving to the other wounds after a couple of rounds on her worse leg.
“T…Tev…Tev’aron come…back…” Tav whispered the words.
Halsin kept working between the wounds until he was unable to produce any magic. It took hours of concentrated healing to get the wound to a manageable state. He eventually fell to his knees, exhausted. Luckily, he had healed the worst of the injuries. Her left leg was still cut up and bloody, but he had at least managed to mend the broken bone and guide the tendons back into place. It was wrapped in some clean bandages to keep any dirt out. The wound in her stomach was completely healed outside of a small circular scab. Her right thigh was looking much better, although there was still some evidence of the burns around the area.
“That will have to do for now.” He said quietly, out of breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t have enough to help the rest of you.”
“We’ll live. We should have some spare potions here somewhere.” Gale assured him.
“Let’s get her to bed, I’ll watch over her tonight.”
They set up a quick camp within the walls of the temple. The others helped him move Tav to the ground onto her bedroll. Halsin sat down next to her and leaned against the wall. Karlach was kind enough to bring him dinner, he didn’t mind that she mainly used it as an excuse to sit next to Tav for a bit. After she left, he noticed a small stuffed bear sitting in the crook of Tav’s arm. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he looked down on the sweet elf next to him. Her breathing had calmed slightly, and her temperature seemed to be normal again. He slid his hand across her forehead and softly brushed some hair from her face. There was a low whine in the doorway as Lunari slowly walked into the room. She circled around Tav, sniffing the bandages around her legs. Eventually she circled over next to Halsin and curled up at Tav’s side, resting her head gently on her chest.
Halsin carefully reached over and pet the wolf on the head.
“It’s okay girl, she will recover just fine.” He assured her.
“Yes. She is strong. She would never leave me.” Lunari let out another whine as Tav took a ragged breath.
He laid his head back against the wall, trying to drift into a trance for a while, one hand still resting in Lunari’s fur.
Oakfather, please…watch over her.
Halsin’s silent prayer echoed in his head as his eyes slowly closed for the night.
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