#my one in one thousand son im sobbing

[stonedscully]

LOOK AT MY SON

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Bullet train au tangerine x fem reader where lemon and tangerine partner up with two other siblings and this time instead of tangerine dying fem reader loses her brother and she’s devastated and he’s all im going to fuck this train up for hurting my girl. 🥺 some comfort from tangerine to reader as well please!!! Tangerine then acts soft towards the reader

hii!! I love it!! this turned out angsty and sad, I hope that’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

ace of hearts

tangerine x f reader

readers code name is ace, twin brother is spade

wc || 1k

warnings || quite sad, might be a little heavy for some. death of readers brother, mentions of blood

a/n || I had a complete brain fart, for some reason I thought the deck of cards were diamond, heart, spade and ace. turns out, it’s ACE OF (…) not the actual card name😭 I forgot about ‘clubs’ but we’re gonna pretend that ace is a name of card, okay? or that it has some deeper connection and meaning to her brother lmao

masterlist + rules

taglist

Everything seemed to fall apart the very second the bullet train travelled past Tokyo Station. Everything you thought was under control, seemed not to be.

Ever since then, it all felt like some kind of progressively sick game; it started with the disappearance of the briefcase, then the death of the son, which was later followed by unexpected fights with others who also wanted the case. Everything right down to the very moment when you hear the unnerving sound of a gunshot a couple carriages down.

You’ve heard many gunshots in your time, but none of them scared you the way this one did. There was this daunting feeling throughout the entirety of your bones that told you it was something different to the thousands before. Pushing past the twins, you dart through the aisles, bustling through the cascade of people that were running away from the noise in fear. Stumbling your way in, you see him. And your heart crumbles.

Falling to your knees beside your twin brother, clutching his stomach while you applied pressure directly over his wound, trying to keep the blood from pouring out. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.” You say softly, your voice breaking as you look around with tear-filled eyes. “We’re gonna get some help, okay? It’s gonna be fine.” You assure him, but in actuality, you were reassuring yourself.

You hear a couple soft gasps from behind before feeling their presence join you shortly after. “What can we do? Quick.” Lemon says panicked, searching around for ways to keep the blood from gushing out.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, staring down at the painful expression that was spread across your brother Spade’s features.

“Where you going?” Lemon shouts, calling after Tangerine.

“To find the twat that did it.”

Turning your attention back to your best friend, your worried eyes darting over his face as you watched him attentively. Pushing a little harder over his wound when you notice his blood seep through the gaps in your hand. “It’s not working.” Your voice breaks as you quietly sob. “It’s not working— why isn’t it working?”

Lemon shimmies off his jacket and rolls it into a ball. “Count of three, we swap places. Okay? … one, two, three.” Sliding your hands away so that Lem could apply the pressure, you cup your hands around your brother's face to keep him calm. Staring down at him with eyes riddled with fear.

“You need to get off the train.” Spade says quietly, eyes fluttering as his head grew heavy in your hands.

“Not without you. We’re gonna get help... you’re gonna be okay.”

“No… please. Just leave me.” He sighs, holding into your hand that was resting against his face. Gripping you dearly as he looked up at you. “Please, you have to get out of here.”

“Just, no. We’re getting you off.” You say defiantly, holding his face stern to emphasise your words. “I can’t lose you… I won’t lose you.” Whispering in broken speech as you gaze down at his stomach.

“How is he?” Tangerine anxiously questions, rushing towards you as he shook off his now blood-splattered blazer. Lemon turns around to face him, slowly shaking his head with a pained smile.

“Just leave me here… please go…” His speech becomes slow and strained as his eyelids grow heavy. Fluttering every once in a while, until they didn’t.

“No.” You sob, softly shaking his head. “What you doing? Come on, that’s not funny.”

“Ace…” Tangerine says softly, kneeling beside you. Brushing slow circles over your lower back.

“He’s okay, he’s just resting his eyes.” You reply, your words coaxed in denial.

“Darling… he’s not.” Stroking higher up your back, gently urging you towards his embrace.

“He’s fine. Lem, what you doing? Put your hands back.” You heavily exhale, cupping back over his stomach. “Come on, he’s losing more blood.”

“Oh, honey,” Lemon says quietly, delicately removing your hands.

“We still have time.”

“We don’t, sweetheart.” Tangerine responds almost regretfully as he twists you around to face him. “He’s… gone.”

Whispering. “No.”

“I know.” His bottom lip hides a sympathetic wobble as he cradles your head, pulling you towards him. “I’m so sorry.”

It was at the moment when the fog cleared and you finally realised that you had in fact just lost your brother. Your other half. Sobbing into the Tangerine’s chest as he embraced you tighter, wrapping his arms around you as if his only goal was to shield and protect you.

“He didn’t want to do this job in the first place.” You wail into his shirt, sniffling as you pull away. “It’s all my fault… if I didn’t push him to say yes, he wouldn’t be dead. If I had just—“

Tangerine sadly shakes his head, his eyes darting across your saddened face. “No. Don’t say that.”

“It should’ve been me.” You whisper, wiping your snotty nose on the back of your hand. “… should’ve been me.”

He cups your face, clutching your cheeks for you to meet his eye-line. “Please don’t say that.” His words were stern yet tender.

“Come on love, we gotta get you off.” Lemon quietly adds, checking the time on his watch.

“I can’t leave him here.” Lacing your hand into your brother’s, holding him like you couldn’t let go.

“I know, I know.” Tangerine nods slowly, looking over your doleful face. “Lem’s arranging a pick up in Nagoya, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah sweet, we got some guys that are gonna pick us up.”

“I’m gonna— we’re gonna look after you, alright? It’s all sorted.”

“What about Spade? I can’t leave him.”

“Love, it’s sorted. We’ve got a plane arranged. Right?” Looking back at his brother to confirm. “Yeah, they’re gonna take us to the plane base, and then we see how it goes from there, alright?”

Turning around you avert your attention back to your brother's lifeless body, stroking his face. Mumbling. “Okay.”

hii, I won’t be doing a part 2 to this :( I wanted to keep it so the ending was how you wanted it to be. either reader joins the twins and they become a group of three, or the reader leaves the job entirely and moves abroad. I wanted it to be an up-in-the-air ending, hope that’s okay:)

——————

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things

[lemonmaidenswamps]

Tags: death and angst

Where phil lost 4 year old tommy in the woods and like

He comes back every anniversary after not finding him. Now he's hitting his thousands. Its been decades upon decades not seeing his very MORTAL son

Once a town settles hes alerted

That they found a missing boy. He has no hope. They havent found tommy let alone a body. But once he goes and checks there he is

The small 4 year old scrapes on his knees. Skinny and dirty but just the same as he had lost him eons ago.

There was his missing son. By some miracle kept young and ALIVE.

He goes and talks to Tommy, but Tommy cant see him. He can touch him feel him hug him but Tommy's eyes are far and distant. Faded and Phil cant see himself in those eyes.

And then everything goes cold. The town goes quiet and wildlife stops.

The Spirit of the Forest and the Wilderness appear before him. Two twin teens. Thats when Tommy begins to move again "Wilbur! Techno!"

And then he turns to phil. "Dad?"

Phil cries, hes never wept so hard before as he hugs Tommy so hard.

"Oh Toms. Im so so sorry, i left you behind"

Tommy only hugs him. But looks past him to the twins and cries.

"Dad. I have to go"

"Go? No no no you cant go. Where are you going?"

"Away. I dont want to go. But i have to dad"

Phil turns to look at the twins. They havent said anything but extended their hands to Tommy. Completely ignoring Phil.

One covered in animal hide. Blood painted over his chest in some symbols he doesn't know the meaning of, a boar skull over his head.

The other same build same hair however in green robes. A orange veil the same color of Autumn. His feet covered in mud. Both with striking white eyes. Both ignoring Phil.

Phil doesnt understand. In his core he understands that they have taken care of Tommy. That they kept him alive. But he begs "please don't take tommy from me, please"

But they say nothing. They continue to look past him arms stretch for tommy

"Dad i must go. Our forest can't last without us"

"But tommy your my son" Phil begs "im suppose to watch you grow. To go to school to cry, to move out to get married. You dont belong to the forest your Tommy and im your father"

Tommy cries he doesnt want to leave. He doesnt remember much at all about before. But he remembers Phil

The warms hugs he would get. The reassurance that nothing would hurt him. Pancakes in the morning and a kiss goodnight. The warmth of a father.

But he knew now that as much as he wanted to. He couldnt have that. He was happy still. Sad maybe somber. But this was no longer his home. "Im sorry"

Phil doesn't understand he wants to be furious. He doesnt know to what. Turning to the twins he walks over.

Making contact as he sees a vision.

A woman young but frightened her hair dark, she looks like night itself as shes crying and calling out to the forest.

And as she fades he sees them. Holding hands as they rest on a stump. The earth recalling them to the soil.

They are gone

And it all makes sense. As he crumbles onto the floor sobbing as that woman did too. THEY cant come back. They are dead. Tommy CAN'T come back.

For Tommy's been gone for a long time.

What ever happened what ever they did they been taking care of him. Keeping him alive by some force that he cannot explain. And he hugs them thanks them because he understands.

"Dad?"

"See my face wet with tears" Phil holds Tommy's small hands as he looks at the shaken boy"

"They're running down my cheeks" Phil feels his son wipe them away. He's so real. He can feel him but hes cold. Frozen in time.

"Dont cry!"

"Promise me that you'll be safe. I am immortal and ill be here for when ever i can find you again, dearest son"

Tommy sobs. Taking in handfuls of Phil's coat into his tiny hands, sobbing into his chest.

"Promise me a sign your okay and that your alive "

Tommy nods. Still crying as he looks at his father

"When the first fawn of spring comes to you i will be saying hi. When the forest speaks it is i who is the happiest, And i will sing like april showers, till my final hour"

Phil smiles kissing his face as this will probably be the last time he sees Tommy.

Watches him go as he holds the twins hands. Finally bringing back the life of the earth.

Youth and rebirth are parts of the wilderness and now they cannot live without the other.

Tommy looks one last time. A small flash of where tommy lays is seen by phil as he watches.

Tommy is happy. Tommy is safe.

The upcoming anniversary phil finally finds the remains. A boar skull. A mushroom are surrounded by tiny little golden flowers as in the middle there lays a spring flower in the dead of winter.

He lays flowers on them all the time.

This time however accompanied by lady of the night. Death itself. As both parents grieve. For they can no longer hold their children. But smile as they hear the distant laughter and giggles of kids. Of the forest spirits. Phil tips his hat a bit to cover his tears

"Little shit"

[ahaura]

lb for mando s3e1

anyway i still think its fucking stupid that the armorer declared din no longer mand on account of him taking of his helmet ONE TIME to say goodbye to HIS SON

DIN AND BABY TO THE RESCUEEEEEEEEEEE

i understand that the armorer is coming at this from like. having her entire people wiped out but the fact that din has to convince her that he CAN be redeemed is so silly like lil baby grogu TELL HER TELL YOUR DAD IS A MANDALORIAN

GROGU WANTING TO CUDDLE WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I GONNA CRY

grogu making the spinny chair spin my boy <3

yes im ignoring half the plot for my frog son what about it

i might be night picking but something about this feels so...wooden? idk maybe im just not feeling it

DIN? WANTING A DROID TO COME WITH HIM? CRAZEE

something something remember when anakin built threepio something something din choosing a droid that he can trust not with just his own life but his child's idk idk but i SEE it

oh my god that's probably straight out of din's nightmares like that nursery droid turned back into a killer trying to kill his son and all he can do is shoot and do nothing but it takes a metal bust of greef karga is to kill it. it never ends huh

GROGU GRABBING THE LIL DROIDSMITH AHAHAHAHAHAH

rip to karga trying to hire mando but no dice

IM SOBBING IM CRYING DIN IS TEACHING GROGU ABOUT WHAT IS TO BE A MANDALORIAN BECAUSES THATS HIS SON THAT HIS FAMILY AND ITS TRADITION WAAAAAAAAAAAAH

"you killed 4 of my brothers in cold blood" arent you like. a pirate. who also probably kills people. hes a bounty hunter what do you expect

"your cult gave up on us long before the purge" PRETTY SURE HE WAS A FUCKING CHILD? BITCH?

bo katan is soooooo funny "YOU are the reason our people fractured" pretty sure it started long before that like there was infighting there was civil war there was exile and THEN the empire decided to bomb mandalore and kill mandalorians en masse like there are multiple factors that contribute to the fracturing of the mandalorian people and the splintering of its culture but like. din isnt one of them lmao?????? but she is also a product of the horror that was the decimation of mandalore shes no different from the armorer on that front but what they DONT know is that there are supposed to be UNIVERSAL MANDALORIAN TENETS that BOND THEM TOGETHER in spite of OTHER DIFFERENCES because they have survived for thousands of years by DOING SO like i want to shake everyone in this show by the shoulders like in eu/legends lore even when separated by star systems and species and language mandalorians are supposed to be able to recognize each other by armor and speak mando'a and have the same 7 mando tenets (i think its 7 i'll have to check) its how theyve survived across countless years and obviously thats harder in practice especially after the civil war and the purge and what have you but you like. god i feel like a chihuahua trying to bite a chew toy to death

rip 2 bo katan for wallowing in her castle probably one of the few unscathed remnants of mandalorian architecture and engineering lounging on her throne doing absolutely nothing even when din says "ive come to join you" like i get it but...

anyway that was ep1 i dont really care about the plot im just here for fun and baby grogu and tin can man and i thought it was a bit wooden of an episode idk if thats me and my lack of enthusiasm but it didnt seem to have a lot of spark/love to it

ANYWAY

[postcards-to-home]

Letting Go: 2023

‘Have you taken a look at your old posts?” Yes, sort of, thats kind of what brought me to dig that password out again to make a post. “Well read them again. They’re pretty…inspirational actually. Truly. Just please do it.”

Shape of You/ Ed Sheeran

Fitting 9 people deep into a 5 seater Toyota Fitz at 2 am was not how I anticipated starting the year off. Riding the center console with all the windows rolled up I wondered out loud who the hell was sober enough to drive this thing back to the Aruba Beach Club? Last I recalled we had closed Ricardo's down after slamming over 100 beers in 3 hours, with a unanimous cry from the bartenders, ``You guys broke the record of the most beers ever consumed in one shift.``We’d managed to hit downtown, with chaos tailing closely behind us until open signs flickered off. Someplace between the Ritz and Hilton we huddled on the beach forming a semi circle around a fat Dutchmaster with our fingers cupping the flame of a single lighter. The waves trickled below the pier we stood on as we watched the boats pass between Venezuela and our tiny island of Aruba. Leave it to D-rock to get weed immediately after passing through customs. As a gang of cousins, It was a first for us to all be together overseas. There was peace between us all as we star gazed, except for Tyler filming himself in the background talking about "getting his bag" and "visiting the red-light district". Good Ole Frank shoved us into the clown car half dead at 3 am managing to hit every speed bump he could until we crash landed at the ABC hotel. Jason never made it out of bed the next day and Frank managed to be at the pool by 9. I understand entirely how we are family after that joy ride.

Im Good (Blue) // David Guetta & Bebe Rexha

Trips with family are always special and I wish I could have had that same feeling I had cruising down the Aruban highway at 3am as I did in Las Vegas this year for my Bachelorette party. While It didn’t pan out that way that I had pictured in my mind, those that made the journey sure did make me smile. The trip itself panned out so far in the other direction I actually wondered if anyone would give a shit about that one time I had 3 vodka cranberries on a vintage casino tour where I took pictures of the retro shag rugs with cowboys on them and fell asleep by 10pm sharp. It was the same trip in which I got to dress up like a bedazzled flamingo and had all my besties shower me with love, something I can't be thankful enough for. They had the ball literally dropped on their heads and they managed to keep moving forward with my happiness as the focus. It wouldn't have been a "Nicole" Trip if I didn't make a fool of myself at least once. I realized after I got off the elevator that my underwear were in fact tucked into the outside of my shirt with the worst part being I was 100% sober. Despite no one winning thousands of dollars or managing to buy a lap dance we did trek through the desert in a hot pink jeep and that was the highlight of the entire trip.After that, we flew home, we threw out anything that had to do with those that hurt us intentionally and we let that shit go.

When I grow up // The pussycat Dolls

Fast Car// Luke Combs

The year snowballed, and if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room. I’ll save everyone the details but I hope this is the last year of my life I have to experience the sudden violent interjection of a fentanyl overdose once again and the familiar destruction it brings. I hope those reading never have to live with seeing your family crowded around the kitchen window sobbing as you see your uncle bent over, dead on the sofa from a coke overdose.Upsetting and startling to read? Yes, but at least he wasn't found crumpled in a ball on the bathroom floor like his son was.  It was of no surprise to receive the news, still tragic no less. It's the one time in my life I wish my intuition was wrong. My mom reminded me I’d called it,emphasizing the need to never tell her in advance when my spidey senses tell me things are going to go south with someone. I had no memory of telling cousin Robert this in January but he wasted no time reminding everyone I knew this would happen before it happened. Jay and I spoke to the officer at the scene on a first name basis hearing “This is the 9th one this week.” It clicked there standing in the rain that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, something I said to Tommy at 9 years old. He was pretty pissed to hear that back then as a 15 year old delinquent. Yet here I am breathing and his ashes are now somewhere in the Moab desert, Schaghticoke, with bitch face and gram down at the cemetery in Cohoes . It was bad enough we buried aunt Ona next to Gram on Thursday but having to go back on Friday to bury Jr in the adjacent plot the following day was just simply too much for us. Maybe we all should have taken those free narcans Grandma Debbie was giving out two Decembers ago that she got from the county jail. But I'll let that thought go.

Way of the Truine God// Tyler Childs

There came a point in the year where pounding the pavement felt like second nature. Work, farm, picking, shows, repeat.Toggling google maps and driving down back country roads into no mans land had me thinking I was pioneering my own adventure.But then standing outside some abandoned house, freezing in line with #27 stuffed in my back pocket I would wonder , is this even fucking worth it? Somewhere close by a  grouchy bastard cranked a heater next to me mumbling about the cast iron pan he wants at the sale. “Cheap thrills” Id giggle sifting through some dead person's Attic knee deep in a mouse house. I drove chaotically through the tri-county region slinging antiques, singing reggaeton of all things at the top of my lungs, driving down 787 doing 90 in a 65mph. We  trucked car loads of plants to antique shows this year all thanks to Dad, Jay mom and Toni. Success is easy when you have a mini squad of family cheering you on the sidelines, willingly sacrificing Saturday mornings to unload trailers at 7am. I was living the dream and my heart would explode on the good days. On the bad days I’d doubt myself but maybe it was willpower, or just simply my spirit throttling my vessel screaming “ You’ve got this,” but It all worked out the way either way.I let my doubt go.

Just Breathe// Pearl Jam

I understood the meaning of family even more when Jimmy and I were sipping Vodka sodas at the Saratoga Civic Center watching Marissa cross the stage for her high school graduation. Somewhere in between slow sipping and clapping Jen lost her large $1 Mcdonalds diet coke all over the venue floor.Poppy with no hearing aids stood by with judgment in his eyes while I took “Obituary” pictures. He wondered out loud "What the hell is going on," but his voice was lost in the crowd and he couldn't give damn.

Just like we did 7 summers ago, we took that first ride out to college for move in day except this time it was Marissa's turn.We dropped  Marissa off at college just two weeks shy of Jay and I’s wedding wondering what would transpire in the two weeks before her return. We conspired how her first term would go over chili and chicken tenders at the only bar in town. I heard alot of bitching about leaving a purse behind a dumpster and “I need a fucking smoke.” between gram and pops. With a black coffee and fresh pack of reservation grade cigs, poppy and I hit the road home from SUNY Morrisville. Believe it or not pops spent the entire two hours chatting about the past in a way I never knew he was capable of. I'll never see him the same way again, and i'm content with it. We started out with “ I dont believe in god so when I'm gone just do whatever makes you guys feel good,” and ended with “ I’m glad we got to talk to Nicole, I really liked it. I still don't believe in God but I believe you speak to my mom in your dreams and I can’t explain that.” It was an entire short novel of everything I ever wanted to know explained all at once leaving me with sentiments of peace.

Drive//Alan Jackson

The pivot towards happily ever after did not commence until walking back up the aisle to catch a drink in my hand.  What a magical day we had. Chalking the day up in my mind I anticipated something far less significant than what had actually happened, simply put, a beautiful day. A day that was talked about with anxiety and ten tons of stress for nearly two years straight, amassing to a single day of blissful drinking surrounded by LOVE and all our favorite people. It felt like our own movie premier, except it was the start our "New life". We had a crowd of family stare at us with tears of laughter in their eyes as we shared our first dance to Hootie and the Blow fish’s “Only wanna be with you." If you're wondering it was totally the wrong choice, last minute and we weren't nearly drunk enough to hide how mortified we were swinging each other round and round. Endless bouts of laughter rang throughout the entire night helping to deflect the thought that some of my favorite people in the world weren’t able to be in attendance that day. Despite the potential for rain as my dad predicted, the day was nothing but sunshine and bliss. A few people cried over their ex’s in the corner that I never saw while one guy went fishing in the pond catching a small mouth bass. Shortly after that he managed to drop an entire keg on his head leaving an egg sized welt on his forehead perfectly positioned for his headlamp to rest on. It all came to an end with everyone barefoot, slurring words in the barn at 2 am, muddy from drunkenly falling down the hill that the barn sat upon. With ruined dresses, we ran out of water and woke the next day with black feet and nothing but giggles. 

Galaxy// Quavo

Controversial to popular opinion, honeymoons are not easy breezy lemon squeezy and probably shouldn't be taken immediately after your wedding day unless you're prepared to melt from exhaustion prior to landing someplace thousands of miles from home. I will admit it was pretty cool to ride in a cop car through Newark airport while also being personally escorted through TSA all thanks to Josh. After that Jay and I tumbled fast, hitting EU soil with peak levels of bitchiness letting Mallorca test my zen before even getting there. European mannerisms are something we are still coming to terms with and my Spanish is still B2 at best despite Laura’s constant push for me to do more and be better. "Nico, you can do this, it will be easy, you know this." No one told me it was Catalonian Spanish..

If it weren't for Jason driving on 3 hours of sleep and a Xanax I'm not sure we would have survived the first 8 hours on the island (Ok I would have made it but it wouldn't have been an endless laugh).There is no other person on this earth I could imagine driving a fiat with into a plaza full of people..No one else I could picture driving down a one lane country rode with singing Quavos “Fuel Up” and crashing into a rock wall,forcing me to get out of the car and wave down a local for support. It would have been pretty awesome if a camera crew appeared to remind us of that moment of defeat when I bitchly slammed the car door in jays face, saying “STFU ill fix this,” while he sat defeated from the days series of unfortunate events. That tire was the only thing preventing us from entering an air-conditioned unit and I wasn't going to let my man melt away. Senior Tony came to the rescue after I waved him down through barbed fencing, letting me into his gated home to ask in Spanish for support along with his wifi password. All that to find out the parking break was jammed and our rental house had timed AC of 1 hour a day from 3-4am. 

Still,there's no person other than Jay i’d rather crash our vespa with in deadstop traffic just moments before returning the rental. Jay and I are what romcoms are made from. We lived it, we survived and we laughed the entire ride down the one lane mountain rode in one piece. We trash talked the guy with "Love” tattooed on his neck that told jay to never ride a vespa again because he's never been so scared in his life to watch a man ride one like jay.Jay's also the guy I can always count on to make friends with the black girls with the speaker and meet random townies at the bar with. His energy is truly unmatched. Bless his heart for picking me, his one beer queer that pees in dirt parking lots at 10pm on our honeymoon to live with the rest of his life.

6PM en Mallorca/ Eladio Carrion

There would be days where I was simply vibrating with the need to do it all at once and then some on an empty stomach and a few energy drinks. Healthy wasn't on my radar so I suffered the consequences. It shouldn't have been shocking to learn I was diagnosed with HSP (Highly sensitive person) but to be simply put, it felt like someone gave me the answer I’d been looking for my whole life. Jokingly, I now had an excuse for my hangry episodes, dramatic mood drops and inability to tolerate social outings for longer than 2.5 hours before committing an Irish goodbye home to charge my social battery. Swan would say “Hey Nicole, hows your HSP these days,” like an asshole and we’d all laugh at the thought of me actually having a real life crisis and not something I exaggerated. With this revelation I was mildly pissed because it meant Taylor was sort of right in saying I was autistic all those years ago. While she was sneaking cookies in her sock drawer, feeding her 8 month pregnant belly on the o there side of our shared wall, she screamed at me I was autistic because I didn’t care for loud noises or her shitty attitude. On the spectrum or not, I'll let that go too.

Seasons change and things wound down. It's January as I write this with my health intact along with everything else in my mental portfolio. I've stopped hearing from my manager “ Nicole Im worried about your mental health, maybe you should take time off.”  and instead I'm hearing from those around me “Congratulations" and "you should feel so proud." I am proud actually, its a new feeling. I learnt a lot of lessons this year but ultimately it boils down to one simple message that applies to every facet of our existence: Light & Love. Thats it.

As long as youre striving to be as close to light and love as possible, whatever that is for you, then it will all work out in the end. And It really has. My whole life feels lighter just knowing as long as I gravitate towards genuine love and goodness, all good things will follow and come back.

  "The whole universe is always about love and when it isnt about love its about the absence of love."

Thanks for reading,

NRCM

*Want to read my old posts? Curious what about the past, or just simply nosey? Click "Past Work" on the left to read all my old shit.

[recommend-and-reveiw]

@sotwk I have no idea where to start on this one, it is fanfiction of the highest order. It's shattered me, and I... I'm hurt. Some of my live reaction: (Spoilers under the cut)

At the same time, something about the ethereal presence of Queen Maereth unnerved Thorin's father. At the council gatherings, King Thrain avoided any direct communication with her, muttering to the side that military dealings should only be between one king and another, as was “proper”, although he never dared suggest dismissing Thranduil’s wife from the meetings. And true to his principles, he left all interactions with the Elven host, their supposed allies, to his lieutenants.

This made me so happy, my queen is so good and pure she scares the dwarf king 😂

He watched in helpless fascination as the Queen settled upon a low flat stone, mindless of the damp dirt on her fine green gown. Perhaps it was the absence of the silver crown she always wore to the councils, or the wildness of their forest surroundings, but there suddenly appeared a pleasant earthiness to the Queen that Thorin had never noticed before. Not an ounce of her Elven beauty was diminished, but it shifted somehow from being a piercing and untouchable flame, to a warm and inviting hearth.

I'll be honest, I may be developing a lil crush on this lady 🤗 your writing is so amazing.

“I do not presume; I see .” The Queen’s kind eyes flashed with firm reproach. “And when I look at you Thorin, I see Durin alive once more. The very same fire that once burned in your ancestors shines bright from your whole being."

Such a perfect discription of Thorin 😌

“He already lost one son to dragons, and he refused to risk another,” said the Queen, her voice now barely above a whisper. “That is the thought that ruled my King’s decision to turn his army back.”

NO- WHAAAA- NOOOOOO who was it? *sobbing* no. I cant. Im gone. Sue you.

"By that favor shall my blessing accompany your dear brother into battle," Queen Maereth said softly. "I shall pray it always leads him to a safe return."

This feels distinctly like foreshadowing and I do not like it.

Thorin shook his head. “There is no future for me in Dunland," he said flatly. “Only in Erebor. As my father’s heir, our people look to me to secure their own futures. I can seek no happiness of my own until I help reclaim our home."

*coughs in Bagginshield*

The Elvenqueen was dead. He might never have believed it possible, but he was one of the few witnesses to lay eyes on her broken body being carried out of the pits of Gundabad, a most wretched sight that would surely haunt him to his last day.  

I just threw my phone accros the floor of a building. No. I will remain in denial.

It was not until much later that the Dwarves discovered Thranduil had ridden out all by himself, immediately, without delaying even a moment to rally his guard, or to strategize, or to brief his confused and panicked soldiers. Without warning he simply vanished, leaving his officers uncertain of what they were to do next in such an unprecedented crisis.

*hysterical sobbing* why would you do this to me Naneth, why?

Thrain stared at his son incredulously. “You are a Prince of Erebor, not some Queen's maid!”

And heres where I learn to shift and slap this mf so hard diamonds would be jealous.

The marching Elves paid no heed to the dwarf-prince that came up to walk alongside their lines. Thorin noticed that despite the bitterness of the winter chill, they had all removed their cloaks, leaving their fine golden armor looking oddly incomplete. Instead, long strips of jagged fabric ripped apart by bare hands were tied around the tips of their spears and bows. Thousands and thousands of crimson ribbons fluttered high in the wind, and made the slow-moving column of soldiers appear from afar like a river of running blood.

This description... I'm hurt, but in a good and bad way.

It was a sight both shocking and chilling to behold up close, the tears that streamed down the cut and bruised cheeks of Thranduil's cold, inflexible face. He inclined his head in a small, vague nod.

Owowowoowoowowowowowow

He staggered towards the nearest torch-bearer as quickly as he could. “Frerin. Have you seen Prince Frerin anywhere?!” The blood-stained, swollen-faced soldier merely blinked at him with confused, unrecognizing eyes. Thorin moved on to ask the next dwarf, and then another one, and so on with the same results. Finally he ripped the torch off one of the roaming rescuers’ hands and started searching the field of corpses himself, screaming his brother’s name until his voice ran hoarse.

Stop. Please. Stop.

“Frerin,” Dwalin choked out, cementing Thorin’s fears. “Hurry--you must come.”

No.

Instead Thorin laid his shield to rest with Frerin, and had it molded into the stone that covered the top of his tomb. Your death will not be in vain, brother, was Thorin’s last promise before he bid farewell to the hilltop grave. I will not forget the vengeance you are owed, and I will never forgive the betrayers of your trust.

Curse you Perry the Platypus.

The Broken Shield (Thorin & Frerin brotherhood fic)

Written for the TSF 2023 Event by @thorinsspringforge

Event Partner Artist: @cycas

Story also features Thranduil Oropherion and the Elvenqueen Maereth (SotWK OC)

Summary: Thorin and Frerin, the young Princes of Erebor, rise above the grudges and prejudices of their forefathers to forge an alliance with the Elves of Mirkwood during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. But the tenuous bonds of friendship are shattered when tragic losses suffered by both sides lead to grievances, misunderstandings, and an even greater divide between the two races.

Word count: 9.5 k

Content: Brotherly bonds, war, angst, family drama, Dwarf-Elf relations, Line of Durin history, Mirkwood and Thranduil history, Thranduil's family, pre-BotFA, pre-Oakenshield

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Major character deaths

To Read on AOC: Link

Artist credit: @cycas

The Broken Shield

Third Age 2791, Dunland

With a furious scrape of chair legs against the floor, he was out the tavern's door faster than Thorin could have anticipated. 

"Where are you going?!" Thorin scrambled after him, nearly colliding with a hapless barmaid and her fully laden tray in his haste. "Frerin, stop! Wait!!" 

But his brother did not listen; he did not even slow his angry pace. This had become a disturbing pattern with Frerin of late. The steady, reliable young dwarf who used to never question anything his elders told him, was mutating into a stubborn goat who seemed to challenge half the orders he was given. Whether the change was due to Frerin's recent achievement of reaching the age of maturity, or because of the lady that had inflamed his passions to reckless heights, Thorin could only guess. He only wished his little brother could have picked a better time to lose his heart and head to a dwarrowdam. 

But he probably should have kept this opinion behind sealed lips. 

"I said stop!" Thorin finally came close enough to seize the retreating dwarf's shoulder. "If you would only listen--!"

“And what would listening get me?!” Frerin flung out his arm to wrench Thorin’s grip off him. “More reasons why I shouldn’t pursue my own happiness? If I wanted those, I would have gone to Father or even Dis instead of confiding in you.”

His words reeked of a hurt that lashed at Thorin. In happier times he might have beamed with pride to hear himself being compared to King Thrain. Now he flinched at it, knowing it was intended as an insult, especially coming from Frerin. 

“My counsel on the matter is for your own good." Mahal! The words stumbled out of his lips before he could stop himself from proving his brother right. That was exactly the condescending line their father would say. 

"Why do you all insist on knowing what is best for me?!" Frerin exclaimed. “I love Ezri, and she has always loved me, and I am blessed to be chosen as her One. Do not dare imply that you can offer a greater life than the one I can share with her."

"Frerin, you are a Prince of Erebor," Thorin stated calmly, even though he actually wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake sense into him. "When we reclaim our home from the Dragon, it shall rise back to its place as the greatest kingdom on Middle-earth. Your proper place is home, where it has always been, Under the Mountain. Not…here!" 

He threw his arms out at their village surroundings, unconsciously revealing his disdain with a sneer. "You have a higher purpose beyond staying in Dunland, eking out a living as a common blacksmith, peddling your craft to Men for a pittance."

"You know I care not about my crown or title," Frerin declared. "I have said it many times, emphatically, for years now. But you all turn a deaf ear because you refuse to accept my choice."

Thorin guffawed and clutched at his hair with both hands, as though it would help him hold on to his dwindling patience. "You are mad if you genuinely believe Father would ever accept you renouncing your birthright."

"Which is why I came to you!" Frerin shot back. "I thought if anyone still might understand and care about my wishes, it would be my brother. Or is it asking too much for you to take my side on the matter?"

“Frerin,” Thorin sighed. “You have not thought hard enough about this. This cannot truly be what you want in life.”

“Not all of us seek heroic glory in battle, or legendary fame from great deeds, or gold and jewels one could do nothing with but pile and hoard,” Frerin said. “Some of us desire nothing better than a cozy home to return to at the end of an honest day’s work, where a hearty dinner and a wife’s kisses await, and the songs and laughter of little ones.” 

Thorin finally softened as he regarded the earnest conviction on his brother’s face. “So is that it?”  He shook his head. “You would stay behind and leave us to deal with Azog and his armies, and all the challenges that still lie in the long road ahead?” 

“That is not what I said.” Frerin moved close to grip Thorin’s forearms. “It was my grandfather too whom they murdered, and make no mistake, the same fire burns in my belly to seek vengeance. I will go to war against Azog with you, and only after we have won shall I return to make a bride out of my betrothed.”

His grave face cracked into a smile. “I know you need me to watch your back, your Highness . I will not make you beg for my axe.” 

Thorin chuckled weakly and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  “Oh, however can I repay such magnanimity?” 

“By returning the favor. By helping me to return home safely so I can make good on my promise to Ezri.”

By my life, I shall. Thorin vowed silently.   But before he could open his mouth to tell his brother so, they were interrupted by a shout from further down the dimly lit street. 

“Thorin! Frerin!” When the figure in the shadows came up to meet them, Thorin recognized their kinsman, Balin, slightly out of breath. “Finally--I have been searching everywhere! You must come to your father’s house immediately. The King has called for a council and everyone awaits you.”

Thorin’s eyebrows rose. “A council at this hour? What could be so urgent?”

“An elf has turned up requesting an audience with Thrain.” Balin’s voice dropped to a tense whisper as he looked meaningfully at Thorin. 

“A rider from Mirkwood, bearing a message from the Elvenking Thranduil.”

Third Age 2793, The Greylin River

Thorin could not recall ever seeing a full moon so large and bright, a great lantern high above the valley, illuminating the military encampment sprawled out by the riverbank. Dwarves preferred to fight their battles underground, in tunnels and caverns where their skills gave them certain advantages, so something about being out in the open, in clear view of their enemies, made Thorin uneasy. But King Thranduil had sent out keen-eyed scouts who reported no signs of hostile elements nearby, and the roving Elven patrols kept constant watch of the perimeters while the remainder of the army took their rest. 

At daybreak, a few short hours away, the entire combined force of nearly six thousand strong will commence their march towards Gundabad, and their people’s great war against the Orcs shall begin. 

Thorin massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, his right arm resting heavily against the lyre propped upon his thigh. He had tossed and turned uncomfortably in his cot whilst Frerin snored away on the other side of their shared tent, before he finally gave up on sleep. He took his golden instrument and hiked a distance away from camp, seeking out a secluded spot at the eaves of the forest where he could play in peaceful solitude. Music, especially melodies played by his own hands, was usually effective at soothing his nerves, but even an hour later the anxiety that had taken root in his chest ever since they set out from Dunland still refused to be tamed. 

Thorin laid his fingers against the lyre strings to try once more, searching his memory for the tune of a childhood lullaby. However, the very faint rustle of shifting undergrowth caused him to leap up to his feet instead. The lyre fell to the ground with a thud, and his hand closed around the hilt of the knife sheathed at his belt. 

The tall, lithesome figure of a lady stood just a few feet away from him, close enough that he had to tilt his head back just to gaze fully upon her face. She appeared unperturbed by the dwarf's aggressive stance, although the four Mirkwood soldiers that stood just behind her noticeably tightened their grips on their spears. 

"Prince Thorin." The lady dipped into a graceful curtsy before him, sinking so low that the voluminous skirt of her dress pooled against the patchy grass. "Good evening."

"Queen Maereth," Thorin answered, bowing from the waist in return. 

The Queen of Mirkwood affixed her soft gaze and warm smile upon him, and the tight knot in Thorin's chest seemed to finally loosen. Although they were only recently acquainted, Thorin had been in the presence of the Elvenking Thranduil's wife multiple times already over the past few months, for she sat at her husband's side in every single meeting held between the Dwarven and Elven leaders. The Queen's beauty, a pure and natural radiance that surpassed the rarest and finest gemstones ever unearthed in Erebor's mines, did not escape the dwarven host's attention, and enchanted most of those who laid eyes upon her. 

At the same time, something about the ethereal presence of Queen Maereth unnerved Thorin's father. At the council gatherings, King Thrain avoided any direct communication with her, muttering to the side that military dealings should only be between one king and another, as was “proper”, although he never dared suggest dismissing Thranduil’s wife from the meetings. And true to his principles, he left all interactions with the Elven host, their supposed allies, to his lieutenants.

Frerin surprised them all with how instantly he developed a camaraderie with the Mirkwood elves. It was only a week ago that the Elven army had arrived to join the Dwarves and set up camp alongside theirs by the Greylin River. By nightfall of the first day, Thorin found his brother at the Elven camp, the lone dwarf sitting around the fire with a group of Mirkwood soldiers, deep in his cups and slurring in speech. As an aghast Thorin dragged him away, Frerin chortled about how he shared a name with his new elf-friend, Feren. Since then, the younger prince continued to  spend more time with the Elven soldiers than with his own people, and Thorin decided there was no point in preventing the phenomenon, if even the kings of their separate camps seemed unbothered by it. 

Unlike his father and brother and their quick judgements, Thorin remained unsure of his feelings towards their new allies. Cautionary tales passed down by Dwarven elders warned heavily against trusting Elves, and the Sack of Erebor, an event that he himself witnessed, gave damning evidence of Mirkwood’s questionable loyalty. And yet there they were, about to launch perhaps the greatest war effort in the history of their race, and they would be fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with a previously sworn enemy.

Alas, Thorin’s father had not allowed him to attend that first meeting with Thranduil, so the prince still did not know what had led to the sudden alliance, and Thrain stubbornly refused to enlighten even his own sons.  

 "May I join you?"

Queen Maereth’s words pulled Thorin’s mind back to the present, and as his attention shifted back to her, and he beheld her lovely and tender smile, the answer dawned on him, clear as the sun emerging from the cover of dark clouds. 

Her. It was because of her. Of course.  

Stunned by his own epiphany, Thorin could only utter a vague grunt, but he nodded in assent, which seemed good enough for the Lady. 

She addressed her guards with a few words and, much to Thorin’s surprise, all four promptly bowed, turned about-face, and disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding trees. 

He watched in helpless fascination as the Queen settled upon a low flat stone, mindless of the damp dirt on her fine green gown. Perhaps it was the absence of the silver crown she always wore to the councils, or the wildness of their forest surroundings, but there suddenly appeared a pleasant earthiness to the Queen that Thorin had never noticed before. Not an ounce of her Elven beauty was diminished, but it shifted somehow from being a piercing and untouchable flame, to a warm and inviting hearth.

Thorin stepped slowly towards her, their faces now at level with each other. "You did not have to send your guard away on my account."

"I prefer we have our privacy, and they are not needed here,” the Queen responded. “I told them I will be safe in the company of a great warrior."

A bold assumption to make , Thorin thought, although internally her words made him glow with pride. He was a near stranger to her and had done nothing to merit such confidence. But as he gazed upon the fair vision she made sitting there, like a delicate flower freshly bloomed from the earth, Thorin felt a swell of protective instincts from his gut. A fierce conviction that he would spill his own blood before letting any harm come upon someone so pure and trusting. 

A long, unbroken silence hung between them as the Elvenqueen stared at Thorin intently, unabashedly. Thorin did not meet her eyes, nor did he shrink away from the attention. He bent over to pick his lyre off the ground and rest it against the base of a tree, but he remained standing, now closer to the Queen than any of his kin had ever come before. 

“Forgive me,” Queen Maereth said at last. “I am sure you are wondering why I have sought you out alone like this.”

“Perhaps you have words for me that you wish not for my father to hear?”

“You are as wise as I thought, Prince Thorin.” She smiled and folded her hands across her lap. “But I also thought mayhaps you too have things to say to me away from the ears of others. King Thrain has made clear that he has no interest in anything I have to say, but I sensed it is not the same with you.”

Thorin laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded uneasy. “You presume a great deal about me, my lady.”

“I do not presume; I see .” The Queen’s kind eyes flashed with firm reproach. “And when I look at you Thorin, I see Durin alive once more. The very same fire that once burned in your ancestors shines bright from your whole being."

Her unexpected declaration made Thorin freeze. Part of him wanted to wallow in such profound praises of his character, but a voice in his head decried her honeyed words as suspicious. After all, elves were notorious for employing riddles and fancy speeches for their machinations. Still, curiosity rose above all, and when Thorin regained his voice, he said, "You speak as though you knew him.”

"I knew them ,” said the Queen. “I had the honor of calling several of the great Dwarf Kings my dear friends." A fond reverie swept across her face. "But it was Durin the Third whom I loved best, he who ruled Khazad-dûm at the height of its glory."

"You saw Khazad-dûm…" Thorin whispered, finding himself suddenly breathless. His mind spun at the thought of it, of standing in the presence of one who had walked the halls of his ancestors’ now lost and ruined kingdom. An elf . He had heard the tales of Elves from the ancient ages who had been proclaimed "dwarf-friends", who built bridges between the two races, although those alliances never endured past their lifetimes. Therefore Dwarf historians wrote them off as aberrations, and not accomplishments to seek out or aspire for.

"I lived in Khazad-dûm as Durin's guest for several years," said Queen Maereth. Her eyes closed as she paused for a moment, clasping her hands together over her breast, and she murmured something in her Elvish tongue that Thorin could not hope to guess. "I shall always be grateful for the kindness Durin showed me, and to this day, many centuries passed, I have yet to find a more loyal or generous friend."  

It could not be. It was too much. Thorin folded his arms across his chest and finally turned away, forgoing his princely manners. Everything she was telling him conflicted with everything he believed about the Elvenking and his family. Faithless, manipulative frauds who cared only for themselves. The Queen's accounts had to be lies…or else the stories told by Thorin's father and grandfather were. 

"The White Gems, Thorin."

Thorin whirled around suddenly. "What of them?" He spoke more sharply than intended, but she could not have broached a more sensitive topic. The cause of Thranduil's ire against Erebor, the reason why he allowed the Dragon to besiege the Mountain without lifting a finger to lend aid. Those accursed White Gems that now lay buried in Smaug's hoard along with the rest of Erebor's treasures. 

"What reason did your grandfather give for refusing to return them to us?"

Thorin's brow furrowed. He had been present at that fateful exchange, and had witnessed the cold, silent fury of the Elvenking when King Thror refused to relinquish the necklace he had commissioned for his wife. 

"He said the gems belonged to Durin's House by birthights," Thorin said slowly. "Because they came out of the mines of Khazad-dûm…" He stared at the Queen, eyes suddenly wide as though he had been struck. 

Queen Maereth smiled sadly. "I cannot blame your grandfather for coveting them. It must have pained him to see treasures from his ancestral home in the hands of Elves. But we did not steal the White Gems, or purchase them from raiders. They were a gift from Durin the Fourth himself, who wished to honor us on our wedding day on behalf of his late father."

"Did he know of this?" Thorin demanded, even as he dreaded the obvious answer. "Was my grandfather aware of this history all along?"

Now the Elvenqueen was the one to turn her face away, the voluminous waves of her dark hair momentarily blocking the sorrow that graced her features. "Truth inevitably grows distorted the longer stories are passed on, and prejudices creep into interpretations." She shook her head. "Thror made decisions on what to believe, and those are the versions he presented to your father and to you as truth."

"So this is why Thranduil despises us,” Thorin said bitterly. “Why he withheld his army and merely stood by to let Smaug drive us out of our home."

The Queen’s hand suddenly came to rest upon Thorin’s arm, her touch warm and gentle as a mother’s caress. "My husband does not hate you or your people, dear Prince,” she told him. “His inaction that day is a mistake he has come to regret, even though he would never admit it. He is a proud king, and your grandfather inflicted one too many wounds upon that pride. But my lord did not withdraw from the field that day out of revenge or spite."

“I suppose you have another grand tale to explain his motivations, then.” Thorin could not help the rush of hot anger that flared within him at the memory, and he stepped back, away from the Queen’s reach. “If you can offer a good explanation as to how your husband managed to do nothing but watch the Dragon raze not just Erebor, but the entire town of Dale…" He clenched his fists against the assault of the horrifying images the repressed memory roused in his mind. “...how he could turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to thousands being incinerated right in front of him… I would like to hear it.” 

“Had I been at Thranduil’s side that day instead of across the Mountains visiting my kin, things might have been different.” The grief that descended upon the Elvenqueen’s fair face almost made Thorin regret his harsh speech. “We could not take back what had already been done, but in the aftermath, we aided survivors in every way we could.”

“If aid had come sooner, there would have been more survivors instead of dead!” Thorin growled. “If aid had come sooner, we would have stood a chance at defending and keeping our home.” 

“Erebor would have been taken, even if our army had marched out to fight. That is for certain," the Queen countered. “And we would have lost so many more lives. Perhaps even the lives of the last two sons that remain to us.” 

Another silence dropped between them as Thorin fumbled with her words. It was the first he had ever heard of the Elvenking having a child or heir, and he had not considered that there might be several of them. What sons? No Elven princes had arrived with the army and no mention was ever made of them at the councils.

“He already lost one son to dragons, and he refused to risk another,” said the Queen, her voice now barely above a whisper. “That is the thought that ruled my King’s decision to turn his army back.”

“I do not understand.” Thorin muttered, pangs of shame now surfacing above his cooling rage. “You have lost a son to dragons? Has your family encountered Smaug before?”

The Queen raised her eyes from the ground, and in holding her gaze, Thorin saw for the first time the truth of her age, hidden beneath her unfaded youth. The wisdom in her eyes, borne from countless years of immortal existence, made him realize the indescribable burdens she must carry upon her shoulders. 

He never thought he would ever feel pity for an elf until that moment. 

“I have shared enough for one evening,” she said with a faint smile. “It was not my intention to shake your faith in the things you have been taught. I only wish for you to understand better my King’s mind, and to know that our family has always valued our friendship with Aulë’s Children. My people are marching into battle side-by-side with yours tomorrow. I would have you trust that the Elves of Greenwood will protect you as our own.”

“But would they, oh Queen?” Thorin raised his eyebrows. “It remains unclear to me why Mirkwood should now do such a thing for us, when the crime committed by Azog was against our house alone.” He wondered if she suspected his father’s private theory, that Thranduil’s sole motive was to force Durin’s House indebtedness, and the Elves' so-called friendship was merely an expensive service that would have to be paid for later. King Thrain had accepted the Elves into their ranks as mercenaries, not friends. 

“That is where you are wholly mistaken, Thorin.” This time the Queen frowned, and the soft lines of her face grew taut. “My family has endured unspeakable losses at the hands of the same Enemy that murdered Thror. This war belongs to us all, and so we shall take our stand together to put an end to these monsters that have taken far too much from us.” 

“And what of the sons you spoke of? Might not Thranduil abandon the cause again out of fear of losing them?”

If the Queen took offense at his brazen sarcasm, she did not show it, which only deepened Thorin’s guilt. “Our sons stayed behind in Mirkwood, charged with ruling in their father’s absence.” She tilted her head to the side, pinning the dwarf with a searching gaze. “You are still too young to have children of your own, so it may be difficult to understand the fierce instinct to protect the ones you brought into this world.”

“I have no wife or children,” Thorin responded. “But I still understand the willingness to give my life if necessary to protect someone I love. I have a younger brother, Frerin, whom you have already met, but you may not remember…”

“Oh, I remember Prince Frerin indeed.” Queen Maereth’s sudden laughter was the sweetest, most musical sound that dissolved whatever bitterness lingered in Thorin’s heart. “It has certainly not escaped our attention how much your brother has enjoyed visiting our camp. My King is convinced he is mad, but it amuses him nonetheless, and I for one have not been delighted by a dwarf's charming manners in far too long."

"Just this morning he approached me, very boldly but ever so courteously, and asked me for a favor to carry with him throughout this war." The Queen gestured at her waist, where the intricately embroidered bodice of her green dress joined with the flowing skirt. "I gave him the sash off my gown and told him I would be honored for him to bear it."

Thorin felt his jaw drop, utterly flabbergasted, but when no words could pass his lips, a bark of laughter rang out. "That is the sort of thing Frerin would do," he admitted. "Particularly if he had been goaded by your soldiers, which I suspect is what happened. It was kind of you to indulge him."

"By that favor shall my blessing accompany your dear brother into battle," Queen Maereth said softly. "I shall pray it always leads him to a safe return."

“He left behind the woman he loves to come here," Thorin said abruptly. "His betrothed. I would see to it that he returns to her in Dunland to make good on his promise to marry her and have the future he desires."

"Then may it happen as you say." The Queen nodded. “But what of you, Crown Prince? What awaits your return after this war?”

Thorin shook his head. “There is no future for me in Dunland," he said flatly. “Only in Erebor. As my father’s heir, our people look to me to secure their own futures. I can seek no happiness of my own until I help reclaim our home."

There was a pause as the Queen regarded him even more intently. "You will lead your people back to the Mountain.” She spoke as though stating a fact, as certain as one would be of the sun rising to usher in a new day. “It shall be achieved by you, in time. So long as you learn to heed the counsel of the wise, of those you might regard as outsiders. Resist the flaws of your fathers, and do not be so hasty to regard the world with suspicion. The greatest victories are won with help coming from the most unexpected of places, so you must keep yourself open to receive it."

"Is that not what we are doing now, my lady?" Thorin swept his arm in the direction of the camp in the far distance. “Who could have foreseen that Dwarves and Elves would ever come together under one banner this way?”

“It is an auspicious start,” the Queen agreed. “I feel hope is renewed strong with this alliance, and that we shall prevail so long as it remains unbroken.”

“It will not fail from our end,” Thorin declared stoutly. “As a dwarf-friend, you would know that we honor our word once it is given.”

"I do believe that, Thorin, Son of Durin." She reached out to offer him her hand. Thorin grasped it, lightly at first, but was surprised by the strength he felt from those slender fingers pressed into his palm. He moved his other hand in to completely encase hers, and they sealed the gesture with an exchange of smiles. 

“With all the power in me, I shall see to it that the Elves reciprocate your loyalty. Only hours from now, you shall see for yourself." Deep pride glowed on the Queen's face. "You will see the difference it makes to have the greatest warrior in Middle-earth fighting on your side."

Artist credit: @cycas

Third Age 2793, Mount Gundabad

Thorin pressed his clenched fists over his eyes and pulled in a slow, deep breath that shuddered through his lungs. After the emergency war council ended and all the Dwarven officers in assembly followed King Thrain back out of the tent, the prince sat alone in the dead silence, for a long time motionless as a carven statue upon his chair. His hollow stare bore straight into the canvas flap through which they had all exited, walking off to proceed with business as though absolutely nothing of significance had occurred. 

When he thought enough strength might have returned to his legs, Thorin staggered to his feet. But something in the act of just moving returned his mind to the realities of the present, to the memories of the last twenty-four hours, and the tenuous stranglehold he kept on his emotions shattered. 

And finally, Thorin wept. 

The Elvenqueen was dead. He might never have believed it possible, but he was one of the few witnesses to lay eyes on her broken body being carried out of the pits of Gundabad, a most wretched sight that would surely haunt him to his last day.  

Immediately upon returning to camp with his company, Thorin stood before the Dwarven council to deliver his account of the battle. His report was hopelessly garbled and raised many questions he could not answer, but those present managed to cobble it together with the fragments of news and hearsays picked up from the Elven ranks and form a coherent story. 

The news of Queen Maereth’s abduction had reached their camp in the cold darkness of a moonless winter night, and the chaos that had erupted from the Mirkwood host was unholy. The Dwarves were woken from their sleep by the noise of over a thousand Elves scrambling to form ranks as the word spread like literal fire setting their tents ablaze, and there arose a terrible cacophony of enraged shouts and anguished wails, spoken in a tongue they could not understand. 

It was not until much later that the Dwarves discovered Thranduil had ridden out all by himself, immediately, without delaying even a moment to rally his guard, or to strategize, or to brief his confused and panicked soldiers. Without warning he simply vanished, leaving his officers uncertain of what they were to do next in such an unprecedented crisis.

Yet somehow, orders came from the absent king. The Queen had been located. At morning's light the Elven army finally set off in great haste, and after many rejected attempts to communicate with the Mirkwood lieutenants Thorin managed to force an answer out of them as to where they were marching off to, so he could lead the Dwarves to join them in the rescue.

Back to the depths of Gundabad, the orc captors had taken her, barely more than a league away. The Dwarves and Elves had spent the last three months laying a relentless siege upon the ancient stronghold, waging battle after battle, and winning decisively each time. Their armies cut through Gundabad's defenses with overwhelming ease, slaughtering the orc legions until only dredges of their filth remained, withdrawing to the deepest caverns, clinging to their nests like stubborn roaches. The Mountain should have been one final purge away from being utterly won. 

Instead, their enemy had lashed out with their most devastating blow yet.

“There was nothing left for us to do,” Thorin told the commanders of the Seven Houses. "By the time our forces arrived, a thorough razing had already been accomplished. We chased down a few survivors attempting to escape, but the Elves had exterminated the rest." He paused and closed his eyes briefly, as a vivid memory flashed in his mind, and he corrected himself. "Or from what I could tell, Thranduil had carried out most of it."

"I heard he was half dead when they found him," one of the officers grunted. “And entirely mad.”

“That preening peacock has always been mad. Charging into Gundabad on his own without waiting for even a single soldier to cover him.”

"Foolish bastard." 

"He was injured," Thorin broke back into the exchange, grimacing as the nightmarish image of the blood-drenched Elvenking once again crossed his thoughts. "Far more seriously than he has ever been. But he walked out of Gundabad unaided, even carrying the Queen himself. I did not get a chance to speak with him, and have not seen him since."

"He has not shown himself at all since this whole disaster started," Thrain burst out, pounding a fist on the arm of his throne. "What kind of king sends a messenger to deliver notice of his retreat? Or perhaps I should just be thankful they didn’t simply fade into the night without a word of warning!”

"Their queen is dead , Father." Frerin's tone was sharp when at last he broke his silence. Only Thorin caught the slight tremor in his brother's voice and he gratefully realized he was not the only one with grief swelling in his chest. "It is only right that they go home and lay her to rest."

"Pulling out the entire army in the middle of a campaign?!" scoffed a Firebeard chieftain. "It stinks of typical Elf weakness."

Frerin stood abruptly from his chair. "There are rumblings from the Mirkwood camp about a betrayal," he said loudly. "Committed by our people. It is being said that it was one of our escorts sent with Queen Maereth that betrayed her to the enemy, and assisted in her abduction."

A chorus of indignant shouts immediately rose in the tent, but Thorin remained silent. Frerin's friendship with the Elves still gave him reliable sources of information, and this accusation did not surprise Thorin at all. The same suspicion had dawned on him when he pondered how the ambush on the Queen's convoy could have occurred. Meticulous plans had been made to take her by a safe route home over the Grey Mountains, through passes known only to Longbeards who had long dwelt in those lands.

The Longbeards King Thrain had offered up as guides were people Thorin had never met before. They were distant relatives who came forward to answer the call to arms, claiming descent from the Gloin who once ruled over the Grey Mountains. But Thorin knew little else of these so-called relations, and he doubted his father had the time to get any much better acquainted. 

“The orcs slew the entire escort to capture her! Dwarves and elves alike, indiscriminately!” bellowed another officer. “How dare they accuse us of treason, when lives of our kin were also sacrificed to shield their Queen!”

“I should have been the one to do it,” Frerin said bitterly. “I volunteered and you forbade it, but I should have insisted upon it. I should have gone to ensure Queen Maereth’s safe passage.”

Thrain stared at his son incredulously. “You are a Prince of Erebor, not some Queen's maid!” he exclaimed. “We were not remiss in our obligation. We gave her a strong and proper escort, but the mission was compromised. Our enemy outsmarted us. It was an unfortunate incident, but one we could not have predicted or prevented.” 

“Unfortunate?!” Anger blazed in Frerin’s bright blue eyes. “Is that what you would call it? Bad weather is unfortunate. A spilled barrel of ale is unfortunate! The Queen of Mirkwood was murdered, when she was supposed to be under our protection! How can you be so dismissive about such a failure, that is now a stain on our honor?!"

For once, silence dropped like a stone upon the assembly. Father and son glared at each other for a tense moment, until King Thrain growled, "Leave my sight, Frerin. Do not return until you have rid your head of nonsense and cleansed your mouth of insolence."

Thorin watched his brother storm out of the tent and almost wished he could join him, but he stayed behind to hear the continued grumblings of the Dwarven leaders. 

"We brought this upon ourselves, joining with elves, who have time and again proven fickle and faithless."

"We have gotten some use out of them, at least. Gundabad was quickly won, and at barely any cost to our ranks.”

“Hah! Let them be cowards and run back home! We shall advance without them and show them the true meaning of grit.”

“Aye! I never liked the thought of that woodland fairy sharing in our glory anyhow!”

"Thranduil has fought fiercely for our side from the onset of this campaign, and his valor has played no small role in our victories.” Thorin was barely aware that he was shouting, not to be heard above their jabbering, but to release the frustrations that would otherwise cause him to implode. “But this war, which was never truly his to fight, has cost him his wife, his companion for thousands of years, a bond none of us can possibly comprehend. Now you mock him in his grief, calling him a coward for his need to mourn?!”

Just as with Frerin, Thrain glowered at his elder son long and hard, and Thorin thought for certain he too would be ejected from the council. Instead, the King rose from his throne, gave the prince a tight, patronizing smile, and launched into a speech that robbed Thorin of the desire to say anything else.

"I understand you and your brother had been ensnared by the charms of the Elvenqueen. Lovely and fair she was indeed, and I will not deny that her presence gave strength to our hosts. But in the end she is still just a single soul lost, one casualty in this war. And I will not allow the blame for her killing to fall on our people!” The blue gemstone of his great ancestral ring flashed as Thrain waved his hand in stern proclamation. “Thranduil was the one who risked her life by bringing her here, keeping her so close to danger. Perhaps if these Elves treasured and safeguarded their women in the ways we do, this senseless tragedy would not have occurred."

As Thorin wept quietly in the tent at the conclusion of that sickening assembly, he knew that his tears were not merely of sorrow at the fate of the Elvenqueen. He did not think he had ever been angrier with this father in all his life, or more ashamed of his kinsmen, or more disappointed in himself for his inability to tell them all exactly this. 

Frerin found him slumped low in his chair when he returned to the tent. The younger prince raised his eyebrows at the pathetic sight but said nothing about Thorin’s watery eyes, flushed cheeks, and damp, disheveled beard. 

“Come Thorin,” he said urgently. “The elves have begun their march. They are leaving, right now. You must come!” 

“And do what?” Thorin asked dully. 

“Let us go speak to them, learn of their plans! Perhaps we can get some idea as to when they will be rejoining us.”

“They are not coming back, Frerin,” Thorin said tersely. "The alliance has been declared broken by both sides. Father and his generals have accepted the Elves' departure. I have certainly heard enough crowing of how we will now triumph in the rest of this war without having to share the glory.”

"Shall we heed the words of those puffed-up wind sacks?” Frerin scoffed. “We have taken very few casualties with the Elves fighting by our side! Is pride really worth more than all the lives we can save by asking Mirkwood to stay with us?!”

When Thorin still refused to budge from his chair, Frerin gave a frustrated growl and grabbed both his arms, yanking his brother to his feet. 

"We should speak directly with King Thranduil," he said, pulling Thorin towards the tent exit. "He has as much cause as we do now to want Azog’s head. Surely he craves revenge and will not find rest until the task is done."

“It is not that simple.” Thorin rubbed his temple, where a pounding headache seems to have formed. “Maereth is gone. Can you not see why our enemies targeted her? Much of the Elves’ goodwill towards us rested on her, on the love her husband and their people bore for her. We cannot replace her influence on them, the zeal she inspired in their hearts. Nothing can.”

“I think our relationship with the Elves has grown beyond that, now that we have spilled blood together. The least we can do is try,” Frerin insisted. “Or shall we stand quiet and let her death be for nothing? Because I think she would want us to bring our case to Thranduil, and make him see reason if need be--”

“Just stop, Frerin!” Thorin cried, finally snapping under the weight of grief and exhaustion. “Enough! There is nothing left to be done, and we have to accept that. It is over .” 

Frerin did stop talking, for a second, to give Thorin a scathing, disgusted scowl. “Never mind, then.” He released his grip on Thorin’s arm, giving him a hard push away. “Sulk in your corner. I will do it myself.” He disappeared behind the flap of the tent exit.

“Frerin, wait!” As tired as he was, Thorin rushed after him into the evening twilight. 

He did not have to venture far to find what Frerin had wanted him to come and see. The Mirkwood soldiers had departed from their now empty campsite and formed a long, wide column that snaked eastward, marching back towards the Greylin, and from there to their woodland home. Many dwarves had come out of their tents to watch the Elven army leaving in the distance, but none were curious enough to approach the giant procession. 

Thorin walked quickly to catch up, keeping an eye out for the vibrant blue color and fur collar of Frerin’s winter coat. 

The marching Elves paid no heed to the dwarf-prince that came up to walk alongside their lines. Thorin noticed that despite the bitterness of the winter chill, they had all removed their cloaks, leaving their fine golden armor looking oddly incomplete. Instead, long strips of jagged fabric ripped apart by bare hands were tied around the tips of their spears and bows. Thousands and thousands of crimson ribbons fluttered high in the wind, and made the slow-moving column of soldiers appear from afar like a river of running blood.

Looking ahead towards the front of the procession, Thorin finally spotted Frerin, easily noticed next to the line of towering Elves. As he surged forward to reach his brother, Thorin realized they had come alongside the most important section of the cavalcade.

On a large litter borne by the shoulders of a half-dozen Elves, the Queen’s body lay, covered almost entirely by a thick, richly embroidered coverlet, and draped over that was a shimmering silver cloak that Thorin recognized as the Elvenking’s own. Sheer white silk veiled her face, still beautiful and unscathed, but whose pale lifelessness was too saddening to look upon. 

Thorin came up to Frerin, who had finally stopped moving, and was just staring helplessly at the Elvenqueen’s body as it passed by. Thorin saw the fear and despair on his brother’s face and reached out to wrap an arm around his shoulders. 

The princes remained that way for a while, suddenly transported back to a time during their childhood in Erebor, when two little dwarves stood by the funeral bed of another deceased queen, scared and confused and unable to grasp what a motherless future held for them. 

“We should go,” Thorin finally said.

"No," Frerin said brusquely. Determination renewed, he continued walking up the line, his boots crunching against the packed snow. "He is right there ."

The Elvenking rode at the very front of the column, separated from his soldiers by a good distance. Astride his great bull elk, he towered above the marching elves, but even higher above the dwarf that boldly approached him.

Thranduil's war steed was a violent, ill-tempered creature. Thorin had watched it mow down orcs on the battlefield, and once saw it nearly bite the shoulder off a Ironfoot spearman just for coming too close. The beast had to be part monster, a lethal hazard that could only be controlled by its similarly dispositioned master.

Sure enough, when Frerin strode up within scope of the elk's sight, it immediately halted in its tracks. It did not buck or make any sudden movements out of respect for its rider, but its nostrils flared as it snorted angrily and dipped its head low to challenge the intruder with its massive antlers.

Behind Thranduil, the entire procession also came to an immediate halt, and a profound silence allowed the dwarf-prince’s voice to be heard loud and clear. 

"Lord Thranduil," Frerin called, stopping a safe distance before the elk beast, out of reach from being skewered or bitten.  Thorin watched, aghast, as his brother sank down on one knee in a manner of greeting. "Forgive my impertinence and allow me to deliver a message on behalf of my King and our people."

Thorin froze when he realized trying to interrupt his brother, or discredit him by denying the validity of his words, would only rouse the Elvenking's notorious temper. And so he held his breath and stood aside, watching as Frerin pulled out a golden silk sash from the folds of his coat, and raised it above his bowed head.

“We mourn your loss with you," Frerin declared. "Queen Maereth was the kindest and fairest soul many of us had ever seen in our lifetime. We beseech our Great Father, Mahal, to intercede for her during her sojourn in the Halls, and to honor her as the dwarf-friend she was." 

Then he rose and braved a few steps forward to offer the sash up to Thranduil, who still had not uttered a sound or moved in his saddle. 

"Peace be on your journey as you bring her home to rest," he said as he waited for the Elvenking to accept his offering. 

“We will await your return, when we shall rise together in arms once more to avenge her.”

At long last, Thranduil bent down to reach for the golden sash. He gripped it tightly in his fist, but still said nothing as the bitter silence droned on unbearably. 

Unwilling to continue letting his brother stand there alone, Thorin finally walked over to Frerin's side. His arrival seemed to jar the Elvenking from his trance and he turned his piercing gaze towards the elder prince.  

It was a sight both shocking and chilling to behold up close, the tears that streamed down the cut and bruised cheeks of Thranduil's cold, inflexible face. He inclined his head in a small, vague nod.

The elk lurched forward without warning, forcing the brothers to scramble hastily out of its path. As quickly as that, the Mirkwood army marched on, once again leaving the dwarves at the sidelines to witness their exodus. 

"They will be back," Frerin whispered, an unquenchable conviction burning in his eyes. "I saw it on his face."

Thorin did not know how much he shared in this optimism, but his heart swelled with admiration and pride in the bravery his little brother had demonstrated. He just never learned how to express it in words. 

"You should have kept the Queen's favor. It was her gift to you."

Frerin shrugged. "And I used it as I believe she would have wanted me to," he responded. "Whenever Thranduil looks at it, he will remember my words and the cause she gave up her life for. He will not let it be for nothing."

He touched his fist over his heart as the Elvenqueen's body was carried past them once more. "For now, we will hold the line until they return."

Third Age 2799, The Valley of Azanulbizar

The uproar of bellowing dwarves and the piercing blare of war horns echoing throughout the sunless valley signaled victory. Had they really won? After six long years of underground battles that culminated in a final descent into hell, was the impossible war finally over?

Thorin reached up to swipe aside the hair plastered by sweat across his face, and only succeeded in smearing more black grime into his eyes. He gasped and clutched his left arm, feeling a shock of breathtaking pain run up from his wrist to shoulder. The bones had to be broken in multiple places, with the damage worsened by his fighting on after it had been injured. It would never regain the same strength it once had even after healing.

As close as he had come and as close as his bodily pain still felt to death, somehow he was alive and standing. The battlefield surrounding him revealed a much grimmer fate for most of the eight thousand dwarves that had marched into Dimrill Dale. 

The truth of the death toll had been impossible to notice while the bloodshed continued, but after the last axe-stroke had fallen, it became clear that victory for Durin’s Folk was a questionable claim. 

A deep, throbbing ache clawed up Thorin’s leg with each step he took, as he limped across the barren plain, struggling to get his bearings in the black darkness of the cloudy night. Several times, he stumbled over what at first appeared to be a boulder or felled tree, but the clink of chainmail or steel armor announced a corpse.

A handful of torches moved in the distance, as Dwarven soldiers began the task of combing through the field, seeking any wounded left lying among the dead that might still be saved. Only then did it finally sink in for Thorin that he needed to find his brother, and that immediately drove out all awareness of his own pain and exhaustion. 

He staggered towards the nearest torch-bearer as quickly as he could. “Frerin. Have you seen Prince Frerin anywhere?!” The blood-stained, swollen-faced soldier merely blinked at him with confused, unrecognizing eyes. Thorin moved on to ask the next dwarf, and then another one, and so on with the same results. Finally he ripped the torch off one of the roaming rescuers’ hands and started searching the field of corpses himself, screaming his brother’s name until his voice ran hoarse.

They had begun the battle literally side-by-side in King Thrain’s mounted vanguard, charging at the advancing hordes of orcs that flowed down the mountain slopes above the East-gate. Their cavalry rams were quickly shot down, forcing them to plunge into the chaos on foot. In the initial onslaught of the orcs, the company led by the princes succeeded in driving their opponents back, and the brothers managed to stay within reach of each other. But then innumerable creatures, including trolls and wargs, began to pour out of Moria’s gate, and the tide of battle turned swiftly ill. Thorin lost track of his men as they fell at a rapid pace, and he was swept away from the sight of his brother as night’s terrible shadows cloaked the accursed valley.

It felt like an eternity before someone finally responded to Thorin’s relentless cries. He was found on the field by his cousin Dwalin, a dwarf who should have been counted too young to join their ranks but was so robust and strong for his age that his own father volunteered him along with his brother Balin.

“Praise Mahal!” Thorin hugged tightly the cousin he had practically helped raise, glad to finally lay eyes on a surviving relation. But when he pulled back and took a closer look at Dwalin’s expression, he found no shared joy or relief, but a face crumpled with sorrowful anguish. The cold dread swept back into Thorin’s chest. 

“What is it?”

“Frerin,” Dwalin choked out, cementing Thorin’s fears. “Hurry--you must come.”

They had set him down underneath a tree by the banks of the Kheled-zâram, far enough from the main battlefield so that the stench of death and decay did not overcome the lakeside air. Frerin’s eyes were closed, and he lay so still tucked between two giant roots that Thorin collapsed to his knees with a wail, fearing he was too late. 

But his brother’s eyes fluttered open at his voice, and his lips parted in a blood-stained smile.  “What took so long, nadad ?” he croaked. “The Halls await.”

“No Frerin,” Thorin shook his head vigorously, clutching his brother’s limp hand in a grip that would have crushed stone. “You cannot go. Your place is still here with me.”

“I cannot obey, Highness.” His chest heaved visibly in dire gasps for continued breath. “I had nearly slipped away. But had to see with my…eyes that you live and will not follow… where you should not yet be.”

“Frerin…”

“Not yet , Thorin.” Strength seemed to return briefly to the dying dwarf’s hand, and he squeezed Thorin’s fingers. “Not for a very long time still.” 

“There has to be something I can do,” Thorin said desperately. 

“Take my braid…” His words fell to wheezing, as the final dregs of strength he had clung to swiftly faded. “Back to Ezri. I love her. As much as…love… you.”

Thorin did not leave his brother’s side for hours after Frerin breathed his last. He succumbed to a deathlike sleep with his head upon the younger prince’s chest, and wept once more when he eventually awoke to find that it had been no nightmare. 

By morning’s light, the dwarves commenced gathering the corpses and stripping all their soldiers of armor and weapons, reclaiming every single piece so that none would fall into orc possession. Balin and Dwalin helped Thorin carry Frerin a long distance to the Longbeard camp set up outside the valley, where the prince’s body could receive care befitting his station.

King Thrain’s angry curses and anguished sobs filled the tent when he finally arrived, hobbled by his own near-fatal injuries, to grieve his lost son. Only then did Thorin finally leave to give his father privacy, and to seek out his cousin so he could make one more request of him.

“It would be my honor,” Balin said gravely. They sat by a campfire together as they made plans, nursing bowls of hot barley stew. It was the only food Thorin had consumed in almost three days, but it tasted like ash in his mouth as he forced it down for sustenance. “I shall start gathering materials immediately. It seems the plan for most of the fallen is to build great pyres, so while the supply of lumber might run short, there will be enough stone to work with.”

“I will scout for a suitable location.” Thorin set aside his half-eaten stew and reached into a pocket in his tunic, drawing out the braid of Frerin’s copper-brown hair that bore a betrothal bead marked with runes. He turned the small silver bead over with his fingers thoughtfully. “Somewhere on a hill with lots of sunshine. He was an odd enough dwarf to enjoy something like that.”

“Then I will build him the finest hilltop tomb I can manage,” the master stonemason promised. “But are you certain you would not rather carry him back home to his sweetheart?”

“Dunland is not home ,” Thorin said darkly. “One may argue that this orc-infested mountain is more our proper home than that place.”

Balin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Then do you have plans to return elsewhere when we are done here?”

“I do not know,” Thorin muttered. “It does not even seem to matter at the moment. Right now, I just feel nothing will ever matter again.”

He staggered to his feet, cradling his bandaged arm across his chest, and excused himself before walking off. He cut straight through the Longbeard camp, willing himself to ignore the growing pile of corpses he passed on his way out. But just outside of the campsite boundaries, another great pile caught and held his gaze--the collection of salvaged Dwarven armor and weaponry. 

One item in particular ensnared his attention, for it seemed to have magically appeared in front of him at the right moment, when it might have been abandoned by the Great Gate with the orc carcasses.

He remembered the day Frerin presented the intricately wrought shield to him, the product of a whole month’s labor in the forge. There had been no special occasion; just a proud young smith wishing to prove once and for all to his older brother that he had surpassed him in at least one skill. And truly, Thorin had never borne a finer shield into battle, and he knew he never would again. 

He picked up the black-and-silver shield by its edges and stared at the burnished surface that barely yielded a scratch. Only the leather strap was actually damaged, ripped apart by the sheer force of many powerful blows that had broken Thorin’s arm before it even managed to break the mighty shield. It could easily be repaired if he wished. 

Instead Thorin laid his shield to rest with Frerin, and had it molded into the stone that covered the top of his tomb. Your death will not be in vain, brother, was Thorin’s last promise before he bid farewell to the hilltop grave. I will not forget the vengeance you are owed, and I will never forgive the betrayers of your trust.

Thank you for reading and your support!

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[transmascnepetaleijon]

i feel like one day ill be 37 sitting in my studio with no ideas on what to draw and will think "hmmm. ill just draw men" and start sketching, and then when im finished ill look at the paper and dave strider will be there staring right back at me

[dracowars]

can i request an imagine im so sorry if it’s too long for your liking but could it be a pureblood slytherin reader x draco imagine where the reader and draco are dating but after some bad news from home (maybe she doesn’t have the kindest parents like draco) she distances herself from everyone and keeps zoning out and finds herself astronomy tower thinking really dark thoughts but draco has constantly been watching over her and is super worried and maybe they have an argument at the tower and draco gets stupid and says something mean or even is dumb to think to accuse her of cheating at the end in which the reader maybe either slaps him (for dramatic effect) or if that’s too much she just says it’s over between the two and she walks off and draco is shocked and tries to stop the reader but she’s already gone and she doesn’t show up to breakfast or lunch and maybe in their class they learn about the boggart again and since they’re older their fears have changed and maybe the reader isn’t paying attention and she’s brought up to test her boggart and it’s draco saying those same things and maybe her parents come out as well and it’s essentially that draco’s unkind words are her fear because it’s the last straw for her until everything breaks because she was holding onto him and she runs out of class and class is dismissed because no one wants to go after that and the reader skips dinner and can be found in moaning myrtles bathroom having a panic attack and she gets really frustrated and hits the the sink really hard to feel something and you can hear myrtle begging the reader to stop and maybe someone sees her and runs to draco to get help but draco runs to the bathroom she’s not there anymore and he finds her at the astronomy tower feeling numb and he overhears her talking to herself and it ends in fluff because he can’t lose her and he figures out it’s probably her parents pressuring her too much again and he can relate because of his and they get back together and it’s just really fluffy at the end maybe they sneak in the kitchen for a quick minute dinner since the reader didn’t eat and draco has to be really kind to the elves heheh

darkness | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,1k

summary: where y/n's parents make her life a living hell and draco doesn't really help

a/n: normally i do not write about things like this but i actually really liked the request so i wrote it anyway. i don't mean to offend anyone with this if i misrepresented something, i did my best to get familiar with the topic <3

warnings: angst, major mental health issues including dark thoughts and self-doubt, hints of su*c*de, mentions of blood, cursing, very sensitive topics in general

universe: harry potter

The cold wind blows through your hair and makes it swirl around the air and into your face, goosebumps spreading all over your body at the sudden coldness. To prevent your hair from flying around, you tame your hair with a hair tie, your gaze fixed straight ahead while your face is illuminated by the setting sun.

You really missed this place during the holidays. The astronomy tower.

Whenever you are stressed from doing a lot of homework or studying in general, this is the place you can hust go to and are somehow always able to relax. The view is breathtaking and you love to watch the sun - or the moon, depening on what time of the day you find yourself up here - shine.

And this special place also gives you the security that you so urgently needed.

The winter holidays were a living hell for you. You have extremely strict parents who see a great importance in your education, but that is basically the only thing that interests them about you. That you bring honor to your pureblood family. That they can proudly show you off to other pureblood families even though they know nothing about you and who you really are.

Until recently they did not even know that you are in a relationship. Unfortunately, one thing led to another and they found it out by an unlucky coincidence which consisted of them picking you up at platform 9¾ for the very first time since you have been at Hogwarts. There they saw you with a platinum haired boy, kissing.

This boy turned out to be Draco Malfoy, the son of the pureblood Malfoy family, who you parents cannot stand at all. To put it in other words, they loathe each other to death and that for probably no reason, at least you have not been able to figure it out yet.

So of course they were not very thrilled that you are in a relationship with a Malfoy, which they showed you straight away. They locked you inside of your room at home because you had to 'think about your actions and their consequences'.

However, when they realized that their behavior would not change anything, they began to put you down. They threw the worst swear words at you, wanted to force you to break up with him and told you what a terrible shame you are for your family. That Draco could never love you and that you are ugly, cheap and overall useless. That is how it went on for your whole vacation.

Your parents always treated you this way, it was not new to you. Nevertheless it hurts every time, even if you try to hide it. You would rather keep all the pain inside of you than to tell others about it, because they are not able to help you anyway. Unfortunately, you did the math without your boyfriend.

This morning at the Central Station of London, Draco immediately saw that you were not feeling well. Any attempts to get you to tell him what is going on with you had been useless though so he left you alone at some point, but you still noticed how he kept staring at you for the whole train ride to Hogwarts.

You would love to tell him, tell him about everything, but something inside of you is stopping you from doing so. An invisible barrier inside of your head, probably fear, that you simply cannot overcome. You know that Draco's parents are pretty similar to yours, but still you just cannot manage to talk to him and you notice how it slowly but surely destroys your deep bond with one another.

Continuing to look into the distance and watch the clouds encircle the beautiful setting sun, which colors the sky in reddish colors, your thoughts suddenly wander to gloomy places. Dark places where you usually only go to when you are locked inside of your own room at home.

But now they are even attacking you at your safest place.

You perfectly know yourself that you are not good enough for Draco. You do not deserve this incredibly great person as your boyfriend. You do not even deserve him as a best friend, no, you do not deserve him at all. You are worthless and for him you are nothing more than one girl out of many.

And still you keep on being selfish and do not end it.

Completely lost in your own dark thoughts, you do not even notice at first how the tears are already streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. Sniffling, you rub your eyes, smeer your discreetly applied mascara, and wipe the tears from your face.

"Why am I still doing this to myself?", you sob and lower your head, looking deep down at the grounds of Hogwarts. The tears that are enriched with pain flow out of your eyes and fall into the dark depths, causing you to slowly close your eyes.

The sudden mention of your name from behind you makes you abruptly breathe out in shock and your head jumps up as you turn around. Your eyes lock with the gray, sparkling eyes of your boyfriend, who is currently looking at you with pity.

"W-What are you doing here, Draco?", you sniff and wrap your arms around your body in an attempt to hide from him so he does not have to look at you.

"Why are you crying?", he asks, ignoring your question, and before you can realize, he is already standing right in front of you and gently places his hands on your tear stained, puffy cheeks. Gently wiping away your tears with his thumb, he searches your eyes for answers that can explain your current terrible condition. He cannot bear to see you like this, so fragile and deeply hurt.

Whatever happened, he will make sure you know that he is and always will be here for you. And he will not let, whatever it is, continue to hurt you so badly.

"If you do not tell me, then I cannot help you", he softly whispers and brushes the strands of hair behind your ear that have escaped from your ponytail in the wind and then carefully lifts your head so you have to look him in the eyes.

"It's nothing", are the only words you get out, your throat thightening, but all you would like to do is to just finally tell him about everything.

"Do you even realize how worried I am about you, Y/N?! It is killing me!", Draco suddenly raises his voice at you, causing you to flinch and take a step back, your back now touching the railing. Noticing the power of his words, he sighs and looks to the ground in shame.

Your head processes his facial expression and his gestures and again makes you believe that his sadness is your fault. By not being able to control your stupid feelings, you hurt him.

"I-I really have to go", you stutter out and quickly run past him, pressing your coat around your body.

"Have fun with Blaise then", you hear him say and you abruptly stop in your motion. Not fully understanding the words he just said, you turn to him.

"What?", you ask with not more than a breath coming out, hurt evident in your expression as he suddenly stomps in your direction furiously, a disgusted look on his face while he looks into your eyes.

"Don't act stupid now, Y/N! You hardly speak a word to me anymore, you avoid body contact, you are totally dismissive in general and you can't even look at me anymore! Why do you not just admit that you are cheating on me?!", Draco accuses you out of nowhere, not knowing what he is even saying himself, and you could swear that at this very moment your heart has finally burst into a thousand splinters and your last hold has now completely disappeared.

Losing the control over your body for a second, your hand lands on his cheek with full force. There is a dead silence before you just turn and leave, leaving him behind on the astronomy tower. You can hear him say your name after you, but you block it out and run down the stairs, crying, your vision blurred.

Missing one of the last stairs in your hurry, you fall down onto the cold floor. You get up again as quickly as possible when you hear steps behind you and you run. You run for your life while you disappear into the endless corridors of Hogwarts, making your way to your dorm.

The next morning your eyelids stick together from all the crying and you have a aching headache. You did not close one eye that night and just laid there crying in your bed silently until at some point there were no more tears.

In front of the door of your prefect dorm room, you can hear how the other students are leaving your house on their way to breakfast, but your stomach makes a flip when you only think about food. That is the reason why you decide to stay in your warm, safe and comfortable bed a little longer and to skip breakfast, which is unnecessary anyway. Avoiding other people seems like the best idea for you right now.

Just in time for the beginning of your first lesson of the long day, you made it out of your bed and are now sitting in Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape.

Your thoughts are whirling around in your head and you do not understand a single word Snape is saying in front of the class, even if you are really trying your best to understand him. Furthermore does it not help your concentration that you see how Draco keeps staring at you from across the room out of the corner of your eye. However, you do not have enough strength for this anymore after a while and therefore focus your gaze out the window at the rising sun.

At least you are distracted until all of the students get up from their seats all of a sudden and you only watch them confused until you notice that they are only waiting for you to join them and you quickly walk, almost stumbling, to them. Ignoring the looks and laughter of everyone, you play around with the hem of your grey Slytherin sweater and ignore them while doing so.

"Well then, let us begin. Ms. Y/L/N, would you please do us the honor and start", Snape clears his throat as you look at him in shock, noticing by the expression on his face that he definetely knows that you did not listen to him at all and have not been present with your mind.

Since you do not have a chance to defy yourself anyway, you nod and go to the position he points at in front of an old, dusty closet. With confusion all over your face, you switch between looking at Professor Snape and the cabinet as he suddenly opens the door and you take a big step back, startled to death.

"Have fun with Blaise then", Draco spits in your face disparagingly and is now slowly walking towards you after stepping out of the cupboard, increasing your pulse. The tears find their way back into your eyes right away while you just keep looking at him petrified, frozen in your spot.

"Why do you not just admit that you are cheating on me?!", he yells at you again and your vision becomes more and more blurred, your ears start to beep while he shouts at you, bringing back the painful memories of yesterday.

"No! Please don't leave me, Draco!"

It is like you are back on the astronomy tower again, your hair blowing in the wind as he steps towards you. In the next moment he is gone all of a sudden and instead of him, two other people are now in front of you.

"You are a shame for our whole family, you stupid brat", your father insults you and you fall onto your knees, holding your hands against your head in pain.

"Stop it! Please!", you beg them, but of course they do not stop, they only make their words worse.

"Draco can never seriously love someone like you. I mean, look at you! You are less worthy than dirt", your father tells you and your entire body is now trembling when you finally see a black cloak in front of your eyes and your parents vanish into thin air.

"Please stay with me", you choke through your tears, words addressed to Draco who had to watch the scene in front of him with pure horror in his eyes.

Breathing heavily, you look up at Professor Snape, who looks at you in disbelief, but as your eyes wander around the room to see everyone staring at you, your legs automatically carry you out of the classroom in the next moment, unable to bear their burning glances.

You run down the empty corridor with a faint vision in search of a safe place to hide until you arrive at one of the girls' bathrooms and rush in, not thinking about someone possibly being in there.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you stumble to the sinks with trembling knees and support all of your weight with your hands on either side of one sink as your legs fail beneath you. Clinging to the edge of the sink, you cry bitterly. The cold walls of the bathroom echo your crying several times, allowing you to hear your own pain.

"What is wrong, Y/N?", you hear a soft voice next to your ear and when you look up it is none other than Myrtle. Apparently of all places you ended up in her bathroom and are not as alone as you wished for.

"I am fine", you say with a monotonous voice, forcing yourself into an upright position, but literally everyone would see that you are definetely not fine, even a ghost.

"Y/N. You look anything but okay. Can I somehow help you-"

"Just leave me alone!", you angrily yell at her and lose control of your body, only seeing a thick, red substance running over your hand when it is already too late. Broken pieces of glass lie around you on the floor, which flew through the air when your fist hit them and inflicted small wounds on your face.

"You need to stop, Y/N!", Myrtle commands, but you do not listen and let yourself fall onto the floor, kicking your foot against the sink and thereby unintentionally loosen one of the old pipes. The sound of flowing water fills the room, surrounding your body on the floor.

On the edge of passing out, you lie in the cold water and stare at the ceiling while Myrtle has disappeared without a trace.

What you do not know, however, is that Myrtle is already on her way to find help and comes across Draco, who is running back and forth through the hallways while searching for you.

It takes Draco a moment to understand Myrtle's fast explanation, but when he does he runs into the direction of the girls' bathroom without hesitation. He rushes through the door into the flooded bathroom and all he sees is the broken mirror and the slightly reddish puddles in the water.

But he does not find you in there and realizes that there can only be one place where you could be.

Walking through the corridors of Hogwarts at lightning speed, he finally reaches the staircase leading to the astronomy tower and goes them up in no time. Once he arrives at the top, he abruptly stops when you come into his field of vision.

There you are, completely broken, leaning your head against the railing, your knees closely drawn to your body while your painful crys echo through his ears.

"Why did you not listen to your parents, you disgusting piece of daughter", you talk to yourself, not noticing that you are not alone any longer. With your already injured hand you hit the pole of the railing once, immediately regretting it as the pain spreads through your body.

However, your gaze lands on a person standing directly ahead and your eyes widen, but unfortunately you lack the strength to stand up, to yell at him, or to resist as he slowly sits down next to you.

Neither of you say a word, but it does not take long before he gently takes you into his strong arms, providing you with the support you needed so badly, so you can cry while he strokes over your hair. He whispers repentances in your ear over and over again. That he regrets his words, that he takes them back and that he was such an idiot.

"You are so wonderful", he confirms and gives you a kiss on the forhead, careful not to scare you away, continuing to stroke your upper arm with his hand.

"Do not believe in what your parents told you, angel. I will stay with you", he shakily breathes and has to pull himself together to not let a tear slip out of his eyes at any moment. "I am sorry that I let you down."

His last few words pull a trigger inside of your head and suddenly everything pours out of your mouth at once. Your fears, your worries. Everything your parents ever said or did to you. You finally tell him about all of it now, even though you should have done it much earlier.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N. You are my world and the reason I live. Never let anyone make you think that I do not love or deserve you, especially not your parents", Draco explains to you sincerely as you stare at him, exhausted but happy.

You slowly put your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, letting the good and bright drown out all of your dark and bad thoughts. Meanwhile, Draco carefully examines your injured hand before scooping you up into his arms while standing up.

"No matter how much you hate me right now, you have to eat something", he tells you, but you do not answer and just enjoy his close presence while you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, letting him carry you away.

If he had known how terrible you were feeling earlier, he would have done something much sooner. He should have been more pushy and not let you get away with a simple 'i am fine'. But now that he knows, he definetely learned from it.

And Draco would have never forgiven himself if he had let you just go like that.

[sinfulskywalker]

I NEED some Daddy Vader and Baby (Rebel) Luke! I've been missing them and am very SAD Damnit! Maybe Luke tries to wander off and then mouths off to Vader in front of some storm troopers or Piett and Vader gives him a couple of spanks in front of them and carries him away promising a spanking and a early bottle and nap for his behavior.

Well Anon you aren't the first one my inbox claiming to already miss LLOM and Im sure we'll see Rebel Baby and Dark Daddy in a fic later in down the line.

BUT. Until then let these drabbles hold you over until then 🥰

TW: Spanking, Humiliation, Dark Fic, slight Infantilism.

Vader's grip on his arm wasn't exactly enough to make him cry out in pain, but he was for sure with the durasteal gripping him it would leave some finger tip size bruises later.

Luke tried to yank himself away, but to no avail.

"And just where are you going?" Vader grit. It had been bad enough Luke had left the safety of his and Vader's shared suite, but to have snuck around and be found in the hatch release zone was more than cause for concern. That, Vader knew, was not accidental. Luke had been "a guest" on the Devastator long enough to memorize a map, Vader knew. A week was more than enough time to figure out where some escape could be.

"Nothing!" Luke shouted, still trying to wiggle out of Vader's dead bolt grasp.

Vader didn't believe that. No way would Luke be in the hatch releases without cause of leaving. Apparently Vader was not the only one who thought this as a stormtrooper approached the father and son with R2 strapped to a hoverboard. Luke protested to let him go as the Strom trooper informed they found it in a TIE fighter along with other possessions of Luke's. Vader growled, snatching the bag from the trooper with his other hand, looking inside.

Spare MRA food bars, a few jugs of water, a Holo map.

Luke was trying to flee.

"We caught him just before he could enter, my lord." The trooper saluted.

"Kriff you!" Luke shouted without thinking as he watched Vader turn to him, slowly. The man's mask his his face which oddly enough made Luke more concerned. The chill in the room was enough to confirm his father was pissed but mad at what exactly?

"Bind him." Was all Vader said before the troops moved in unison to bind Luke's arms behind his back and flip him face down on a metal table. His legs were cuffed at the ankles, a spreader bar keeping them apart as to cease his movement and odds of running away.

"Let go of me!" Luke cries.

Vader stands behind the boy. Insolent brat. The father wastes no time in removing the belt and trousers of the rebellious boy, ignoring Luke's screaming protests before raising a hand and smacking across the sensative flesh until Luke's bottom was cherry red and burning with heat.

"Stop, stop!" Luke was past the point of demanding. He was begging. It hurt so much and the sheer humiliation of being watched by hundreds of not thousands of stormtroopers who all watched him with expressionless masks didn't help either.

Luke feared he was the only human in the room. How else would anyone take being spanked at his age in a room of so many?

"I will stop when you denounce the alliance." Vader hissed. "Forgo that terrorist group and stay. where. I. put. you." Each syllable he received a large smack until he was choking on his own cries.

"No! Noooo!" Luke screamed.

Unbelievable. Vader growled. He had enough. Beating his child wasn't getting him anywhere and Luke was being persistent. The father halted in his smacking in favor of towering over the boy, each large hand on either side of Luke's head. He could hear the boy sniffling and trying not to sob too loudly.

It is useless to resist, child. You are mine.

"Fetch my son's medicine. Clear a corner." Vader demanded.

Corner? Luke hadn't the moment to ask before his restraints were cut or opened and his Father was all but dragging him, not caring his pants and small clothes were STILL around his ankles, and plopped him in the corner.

Like a naughty toddler.

"Hands on your head. You will stand here and think about what you did. When you are ready to denounce the rebellion then you may come out." Vader growled at him.

Luke shivered. No. No he wouldn't do it!

Vader must have thought the same thing as his Force tendrils restricted his movement and kept him in the position Vader wanted him in.

"Keep and eye on him. Should he move he shall be given another round." Vader announced, loudly, as he walked away. "Contact me the moment he's apologized."

Vader was just going to leave him?! Luke gulped hearing the sounds of footsteps move with rhythm to face him and then silence.

They were watching him.

Luke's tears did not stop as he faced the corner. He couldn't even block out his father's call in the force:

Do as I say Luke. Do not linger in your punishment. If you're a good boy and apologize shortly, Daddy will make all of your pain go away.

An hour later Vader returns, smug and confident as he sees his little boy whimpering over and over again that he's sorry.

Vader is a man of his word and with a rag soaked in bacta and a warm bottle of milk Luke is out like a light carried in his father's arms.

[gayboober]

Hi im the anon with the ranboo hc and I have a snippet of the fic (I reworked parts of the headcanon so it could work in a story :) )

"

Ranboo’s death was… odd to say the least. He didn’t know he was dead until what seemed like weeks after he got here. Even now, however, he wasn’t fully sure. The endless expanse of his new home had thousands of light purple figures standing perfectly still, just waiting for him to get near enough to tell their stories. 

He was currently sitting on a bench next to Tubbo who was staring off into the midnight colored sky, his icy, pupiless eyes still showing lifelike expressions. Ranboo stared off into the same oblivion, his hand resting lightly on Statue Tubbo’s. He knew that, somewhere behind him, Statue Ranboo was watching Tubbo with wonder. Even as regret gnawed at his heart, he still felt the same way he did then. The same fascination that intrigued him what felt like years ago, the admiration that brought him closer and closer to the President still consumed his being whenever he was near Tubbo. It's why he agreed to marry him; Why he built Tubbo the home of his dreams; why he fought till the very end to preserve Tubbo’s dreams. He knew that he no longer was part of those dreams, but the best he could do was entrust the safety of his son to the strongest people he knew: Tubbo and Technoblade.

He looked to the right, meeting his own, empty eyes as he watched Tubbo tell Wilbur that he had never felt happy since before the fall of L’manburg. Compared to the memories he’s seen, the ones forgotten and the ones he wished he forgot, that was the memory that hurt the most. The pain wasn’t like a knife, expected and sharp, but more like a poison; he doesn’t feel the pain right away, but it slowly creeps into his system, only revealing itself in small ways. Shaking hands, sudden guilt, and worst of all, the urge to find it. He made the mistake of fulfilling that urge one too many times.

Time passes on slowly, the only thing marking it was the clock another Statue of him was holding. He eventually leaves the bench and wanders off. As he weaves in between statutes, those moving as if in molasses and those solidified in time, he notices something familiar out of the corner of his eye. He turns and looks down into the eyes of a small piglin child. He kneels, guilt stinging familiarly at the corner of his eye, and lightly brushes the child’s head. It was harder to remember nowadays. Maybe it was the fact that these statues carried his memories and that his mind relied less and less on it’s own capabilities, but that didn’t seem right. 

Squinting slightly to look for anything to help him remember at least the name of this child, he looks up and sees a familiar couple. 

Oh…

"

Hope you liked it ^-^

i swear i answered this in my head but oh my god this is so good

i’m sobbing. screaming crying throwing a chair at the wall.

[futurebicon]

You said you wanted fluff ideas... coops date night? Or coops getting caught making out by Felicity? Or team dinner where they announce their engagement or that they are going to have a kid?

This spiraled greatly but here’s something to keep your mind busy on this terrifying day.

“Ready?” Remus squeezed Sirius’s hand with a smile.

“Not at all” Sirius smiled back as he opened the wide front doors, letting the sound of the team out into the open.

“Hey Cap” Finn fist bumped him.

“Hey, Harz” Sirius greeted.

“Remus” Lily smiled, walking over to her best friend with Harry on her hip.

“I’ll take that. Thank you” Sirius said as he took his godson from her.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever” she simple let Sirius take her son and hugged Remus.

“We saw each other last week, Lils” Remus laughed.

“Too long.” Lily groaned as she pulled away.

“You aren’t getting him back.” Sirius told her when she looked over, twisting Harry away from her.

“Fine.” She kissed Harrys head and kissed Sirius’s cheek. “Just give him back when you and your lover sneak off.”

“Don’t think anyone’s going to let us sneak off tonight.” Sirius grumbled.

“I think we did plenty of the more direct version of sneaking off in the last 24 hours. We’ve snuck out a little too much” Remus smirked at him.

“It’s impossible to sneak out too much”

“Whatever you say, leg shake.”

Sirius scoffed in shock and pushed him lightly with one arm.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” Remus laughed and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, trapping Harry between them.

“Dinner” Celeste interrupted their hug.

Thunder echoed as a team of hockey players ran to get food.

“Let me know when you’re ready.” Remus kissed his curls.

“I’m ready now but Im pretty sure they care more about Celestes chicken then our marriage at the moment.” Sirius’s smiled, a little nervously.

“Speaking of which, we should probably get some before only dry bones are left.” Remus took his hand and walked into the noisy kitchen. Holding both his and Sirius’s plate as Sirius scooped small servings onto Harrys plate.

+++

“Someone always has something to say now.” Dumo said as everyone ate their cake. “Something always happens that needs to be said during the only silence available during the night.”

It was true. Silence while everyone ate the heavenly cake had become known for its announcements.

The Cubs dating, Noelle and Thomas getting together, Natalie being pregnant, new relationships throughout the team, family deaths that the team hadn’t yet heard about, countless other announcements swirled in the silence.

“Who is it this time?” James asked with a smirk. “Bet it can’t top mine- oww, ours” James corrected himself after a sharp elbow to the ribs from his wife. Lily and James had announced their second child just last month.

Remus bit his cheek to hold back a smile as he saw a familiar competitive look cross his fiancées face.

“I’m sure someone can, Prongs” Sirius smirked teasingly at his best friend.

“I don’t think anyone can” James shot back.

“I guarantee you someone has to have something better.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know but someone has to.”

James turned to look at Kasey “Do you?”

“Don’t think so”

“Do you?” He asked the Cubs, who all shook their heads.

“You?” He pointed at Kuny.

“Нет”

“I don’t know Russian so I’m going to make the executive guess and say that was a no” He turned to Dumo “Maybe you do?”

“Nope” Dumo shook his head.

“See Pads?” James turned back to Sirius with a victorious look. “I won best announcement.”

“Didn’t ask me” Sirius crossed his arm and set them on the table.

“Gave you plenty of time to come up with a lie” James mirrored his stance.

“I proposed to Remus last night.”

Sirius watched victory melt off James’s face.

Sirius smirked cockily and fell back.

“Wait actually?” Lily asked, no one sure if he was being serious or just trying to mess with James.

Everyone looked to Remus, who reached into his pocket and slipped a light grey band onto his finger with a smile. Sirius doing the same beside him.

Cake silence returned for a few frozen seconds.

“Attaboy, Black.” Thomas whooped, unfreezing time.

James was around the table and tackling Sirius in seconds, Remus catching them before they hit the floor.

“Baise sacrée” James hugged him tightly with a laugh. “I better be your best man”

“Oh my god” Lily launched herself onto Remus. “I’m so happy for you.”

Remus laughed happily and pulled slightly away from their hug. “Lils” he breathed. “No, don’t cry.” He laughed again airily.

“I’m pregnant. I’m allowed.” She defended herself.

“Yeah me too” Nat shouted, wiping her eyes.

“And me” James let go of Sirius and wiped off his glasses.

“I guess I am too.” Thomas’s eyes were glossy.

“Non. If anyone cries, I’ll cry. Don’t make me cry.” Sirius said sternly.

“If he cries, I’ll cry and I don’t want to cry” Remus added.

“We’re happy. Don’t yell at us” James sniffled as he picked up a confused Harry.

Everyone else filed past with their congratulations and hugs and wedding suggestions.

“You could get married while skydiving. Just givin’ you some options.”

Sirius felt his throat starting to close as Dumo engulfed him in a hug.

“I’m proud of you, fils.” Dumo told him quietly. “I’m so beyond proud of you.”

“Thank you, Papa” Sirius whispered into his shoulder. The simple ‘thank you’ holding thousands that went unsaid.

‘Thank you for taking me in. Thank you for letting me into your family. Thank you for showing me what family is. Thank you for always being there. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for staying up till early morning so you could save me from nightmares. Thank you for showing me that it’s okay to need help. Thank you for telling me that I deserve to be loved. Thank you for pulling be back from the edge. Thank you for the hour long phone calls once I had moved out but still needed to hear you say that everything was going to be okay. Thank you for accepting me. Thank you for knowing. Thank you for seeing the long and longing glances. Thank you for inviting both of us to dinner. Thank you for knowing it was going to snow. Thank you for not giving us a choice of we’re to sleep. Thank you for giving me him. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, dad’

And then they were both sobbing.

“No” Sirius wiped his eyes. “Damn it, Dumo” he tried to laugh but a sob had disguised itself as laughter and escaped his lips.

“Baby, no” Remus pulled him into a hug. “No, you’re going to make me cry.” Tears were already running down his face.

“Hey!” Harry ran into his godfathers legs in shock and frustration. “I not got hug!”

Everyone let out watery laughs as Sirius picked up the two year old.

“Here you go. Saved the best for last” Sirius squeezed him and twisted him back and forth.

“When’s the announcement that you can finally stop stealing mine and got one of your own?” James smiled.

“Probably only a couple dozen more cakes.” Sirius smiled as Remus pulled his back against his chest.

@lumosinlove

Leave prompts pleassse

[crossovereddie]

Thoughts on 11x06

I had to come back to type this after the episode. I was gonna wait to post until more people are active but everyone’s safety is more important than notes. This was really hard for me to watch. It took me two hours because I kept needing a break. It’s a tough one yall. It’s heartbreaking and really brought out issues I didn’t know I was still dealing with until I reacted so badly to some stuff. Take care of yourselves and I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll have timestamps for major tws in another post coming right after this. I just gotta go back and get the end of those scenes. I only go the time they started.

Okay. So. There’s some trigger warnings that I’ve reblogged earlier. This recap WILL have thoughts about those triggers. If you think you’ll be triggered just message me or send me an ask and I’ll give you the non triggering recap. Stay safe please.

Kev and v intro. They’re having sex behind the bar

I’m extremely nervous for some reason I might not be able to get through this

Bike heist!!

LICKEY RIGHTS

LIP CALLS HIM MICK

MISSION IMPISSIBLE

Mickey is unimpressed

Lip telling Mickey what to do yes please

Fucking Mickey omg

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

THE WAY HE SAYS BRAD

Again Mickey is unimpressed

Lip :(

MICKEY CONCERNED ABOUT LIPS SOBRIETY

AGAIN I SAY LICKEY RIGHTS

Frank is falling the chick he’s boning Monica

Not sure that’s her real name

Wait yeah it is

Frank??? Has to get to work???

Wait her name isn’t Monica

Oh shut now I get what’s happening

“Can I speak to Pope Francis please” LIAM 😭

Poor baby

Lip cooking breakfast. Hot.

I forgot about camis baby

I actually beep bad for lip and Tami

We already heard this argument with Mickey and Ian get new material writers

PRODIGAL THEIF

PINK BOX HES SO CUTE

HE LOOKS SO CUTE GOTTA SQUEEZE HIM PLS

Yeah don’t tell Carl that traitor

MICKEY BROUGHT DONUTS PLS

HES SO CUTE

ITS TOO MUCH

I LOVE HIM

HIS SMILE!!!!!!!!

GALLAGHER YOUTH

THAT MEANS MICKEY TOO BYE

CARL CALLING HIM MICK TOO PLS

I CANT TAKE IT

Poor Liam he’s terrified

“I was hoping the fucker would just die” :(

Shut up Debbie

Mickey is beautiful

Leave Mickey out of it debbie goddamn

I cant fucking stand her

Frank just observing his kids and smiling

Same frank

SHUT UP DEBBIE

OH MY GOD HIS LAUGH IS THIS WHAT YOU HEAR WHEN YOU FIRST GET TO HEAVEN????

“And the smartest” lol

Someone save Liam

“I want Sandy”

We all do kid

Fucking manipulative little I CANT STAND DEBBIE

Sandy deserves better

I hate the Milkovichs!!!!

How did smart sensitive sweet beautiful loving Mickey come from this disgusting family????

MICKEY IS THE BOSS

My heart hurts so him

“Homo sexy” dear god

Mickey is too good he deserves so much better

I love him so much

Let him be happy

Mickey has the biggest heart

They’re actually talking and not fighting

CHAPO STFU

You’re so funny and smart and beautiful don’t forget that baby

SUGAR TITS

And no one is fazed lmao

“He’s actually my uncle and my dad” I fucking hate this show

I forgot Carl makes legit money now

Wtf kinda school is this

This is so fucked up

The twins are so adorable

SHUT UP DEBBIE

“You guys” I hate that but also she’s acknowledging Mickey as “hers” and he’s family :(

Okay this horrifying comment

I hate that it’s just nonchalant

Debbie just keeps talking.

Let’s move on

Mickeys face when she says “butt naked”lmao

LIP CALLING HIM MICK AGAIN

“Talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes. Please”

I LOVE IT

Mickey is unimpressed by lip once again and I’m smiling

They love each other they’re secretly best friends ITS A FACT

HAND SHAKE SO CUTE

MY BABIES

“Blue like my balls” fucking frank lol

They’re going in on Frank’s storyline now

Boss Mickey at it again

Terry’s home

The way his face falls im sick

SANDY BABY

My heart is racing

Mickeys face is breaking my heart

Great now I’m crying

Mickey got emotional

Ian sensed it and touched his neck all fucking sweet

Okay I had to take a little break because I started crying

I love him too much

Fucking Noel is so damn good

My heart is fucking breaking

“Frank’s not a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years”

Please Mickey deserves better

I don’t wanna hear any Ian slander either.

In this house we protect my son and my son in law I will fight you

“Let’s get the fuck outta here. Lip you coming?” 😭

That was so hard to watch yall. I’m not gonna lie to you. My parents weren’t half as shitty as terry but growing up feeling unloved your whole life fucks you up anyway and that brought out some emotions and feelings I didn’t realize I still dealt with. I had to pause for a good while and cry.

Leave Sandy alone debbie

Terry is disgusting

Okay the homophobic language he uses is definitely triggering so I’ll time stamp that too

Debbie you selfish bitch

Everyone leaving terry outside it’s a yes from me

I honestly can’t concentrate on the other scenes now I’m sorry y’all

I try to cover everyone’s scenes but it’s hard for me today

I’m not okay

Liam is too innocent poor kid

MICKEY LIP AND IAN THE BEST TRIO

We need more scenes

I PAUSED TO TYPE AND THE FUCKING LOOK HES GIVING HIM STOP

They’re besties

Mickey is beautiful

MY BABY BUSINESS BOSS MAN I LOVE YOU

he really hasn’t called him Philip the entire episode wtf

Ignoring Debbie

Now I want fries

Carl is cringy

Mickey drove them home and pulled a gun

Honestly again another heartbreaking scene

Ian’s trying to make him stop

Terry is disgusting and also a coward but we’ve been knew

Noel is the most amazing

Mickey gets teary but doesn’t cry bc I cried enough for the both of us

He’s the strongest bravest ever and I’m so proud of him

I need a hug

My heart hurts so much y’all

I just want him to be happy

I’m a fucking mess

I can’t handle Lip being emotional too

Oh I thought lip wanted to sell the house for himself only but at least they all get their share

Horrible music choice

I wanna tuck Mickey in with his favorite tv show on(911) make him his favorite food to eat in bed and not let anyone but Ian around him for a good 72 hours

The way Ian is looking at him

“Would you take care of me if I was paralyzed?”

“....yeah. Yeah”

“Top you whenever I wanted” “asshole”

His smile is back that’s all I need in life

MICKEY IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

RIP DOWN THAT FLAG YES BABY

“That was big of you” “he’s an asshole...I wanna be better than that”

WHEN I TELL YALL I LOST IT I MEAN FULL ON SOBBING

YOURE ALREADY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT

YOURE SO KIND AND BRAVE AND BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT

Ian’s like “back of the head? Gotta grab and hold my boy”

“You are so much better than that” IAN MY SWEET SON IN LAW I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR LOVING OUR BOY SO WELL

IAN IS THE MOST SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND

V spitting truth

I want terry to fucking suffer

Don’t do it frank

“Nah” LMAO

Frank loves his son in law

Sandy I love you

I need to hold her

No debbie I LOVE HER

NO SANDY LOVE ME INSTEAD

DEBBIE DOESNT DESERVE YOU

Carl scene was so awful I feel so bad for him this girl is a fucking psycho

That was an actual rape scene what the fuck

Mickey making frank laugh

Debbie explaining? Really?

I hate her

“How long is this gonna take? I’m fucking starving Lip” WHY WONT YOU CALL HIM PHILIP

“We could get on with our lives” well that hurt more than it should’ve

It’s really the end soon huh? 😢

According to captions Ian says “we’re in”

Frank reads his diagnosis

Carl goes to report his rape

That took me nearly two hours to watch. Yeah I usually pause to type but I had to take long breaks after the hard scenes. It was a really hard episode to watch. A lot darker than it has been. I’m not really okay right now. It was emotional but a really good episode overall.

[canyousayinconsistency]

Why Can’t I Have Him Back?

I had a craving for a specific scenario and thus I provided it for myself, hope yall enjoy.

Sukuna x Curse! Reader | Angst with a small fluffy scene

Warnings: I made the reader be kinda like a butterfly-ish curse so if you dont like that my bad, blood (not too much)

I’ll probably make a part 2 for this, maybe something smutty if im feeling like it

Ever since Itadori fused with the King of Curses, Sukuna, all of the high ranking Jujutsu Sorcerers have been on edge. Not only from the unexpected development of having someone being able to tame such a monster, but also due to the ungodly amount of spiritual energy that had pulsed across the nation at his arrival. The pressure it released had knocked them back, the feeling sending a shiver down their spine as they realized it had been on par with Sukuna, if not even greater.

Despite feeling this unease, no matter what or where they searched nothing and no one was found. While they had constantly worried about this sudden presence they had current matters to attend to, such as the fact of Gojou Satoru’s sealing.

Itadori had run throughout the station, fighting minor curses here and there before coming to a halt from the presence of Mahito, Geto and Jogo. While Itadori and the other shamans around him prepared for a battle he could only watch in confusion as everyone around him, including the major curses in front of him stiffened and shuddered.

A large gust was felt before a hole in the ceiling broke through, crashing down in between the two feuding parties. From the moonlight, almost in a serene manner, a tall woman floated down, her large wings carrying her to settle atop of the debris. The curses behind her held their breath, the sorcerers in front of her tense at her presence, and Itadori shivered in both fear, yet relief?

The woman before him crouched down slightly, her wings settling behind her as she finally opened her eyes. Her bright (e/c) looked as though it was glowing against her black scleras. If you were to look past her demonic features she was quite a beauty, by all standards. Upon closer inspection they noticed her six arms. Her top and bottom arms were grotesquely stretched out behind her, holding onto something, while her middle arms had their hands clasped together. Just behind those arms on her stomach held dark markings, the same that were on Sukuna’s stomach.

Looking around she made eye contact with everyone in the room, tilting her head to the side her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Turning to face the curses behind her everyone noticed how they kneeled before her, their heads not moving an inch to look up at her. However one curse had been so bold as to walk towards her.

“WhO iS tHiS? WeAk? I aM sTrOnGeR!” The garbled voice laughed at her delicate structure. The cursed lunged at her just as she turned to slowly look at them. Just as they jumped she tilted her head slightly to the side, catching the curse midair. The curses gasped and smiled at her display of strength while the shaman prepared for the worse.

The curse choked and groaned as she stared at it more. She tilted her head the other way, watching as the curse slowly became more and more twisted. Finally she frowned, almost like a child who didn’t like their toy, she shook her head and instantly the body was a twisted mess hitting the floor with a wet plop.

Jogo had let out a small cheer before standing up to applaud her. “Amazing! My La-” He was cut off by a gust of wind as he felt her hand cover his mouth. No one moved, too astonished by her sudden movement, it was as though she teleported. 

“Shh…”

He shook under her grip, however her delicate hand gently left him, dropping him to the ground as he tried to gather himself. Sharply turning her head her voice was barely above a whisper as she looked at Itadori.

“Sukuna…?”

In an instant she was in front of the boy who could only watch in fear as she held his head in her hands. Despite her delicate frame her body dwarfed his in size. Once again she whispered her King’s name, her hand gently stroking the marks under Itadori’s eyes. 

“What happened? My Sukuna...you’re not him, but you have him…?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, causing the shamans to jump into action in fear of the fate that Itadori would face, much like the curse from before. However just as they jumped, she held out her hands, catching them in mid air as she continued to look deep into Itadori’s eyes. No. She seems to look through him. 

“M-My Sukuna...give him back to me…”

She whimpered causing everyone to look shocked. Such a fearsome curse was crying. Large black tears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed, begging for her King to come back. Itadori flinched as a voice echoed in his head.

“Switch with me.”

He fought back, however it was as though Sukuna was fighting back with a different kind of strength. As she continued to cry she felt a warm palm come to rest against her face, wiping her tears in a way that held such warmth and familiarity. 

“Don’t...cry…”

On the side of Itadori’s cheek was a second mouth which held the voice the woman had wanted to hear for so long. Dropping the shaman to the ground she grabbed his head once more to stare at the mouth of her lover. 

“Sukuna…! S-Sukuna…”

She sobbed quietly, holding Itadori to her chest. Despite being a curse with such monstrous strength, she held him so gently. Her scent felt familiar, yet it shouldn’t have. Bulking, Itadori shoved her back as he coughed up blood, his throat felt as though it were burning. 

It was then everyone noticed the light (colour) pollen that seemed to flutter off of her wings. The many shamans around her covered their mouths, some already falling to the poison as well. The curses behind her seemed to be unaffected, however some of the lesser curses with them started to look uneasy. 

Falling to his knees Itadori grabbed onto his throat, he felt his consciousness fading away slightly before it all went black. Steadily he stood up, now on his face were four bright red eyes that stared up to the woman, the markings on his face slowly turning opaque.

“It’s been a while, hasn't it (y/n)?”

With a gasp the woman lunged at him, engulfing him in her arms. Had this been 1000 years ago she would have been dwarfed by him, but now it was she who held him. She cried out his name, her whimpers of missing him and of how scared she was being heard by all.

“They took you away from me! How long has it been? I’ve only been awake for a few months.”

She stated causing all the remaining shamans to look alarmed. She had been the large awakening they felt those many moons ago. 

“Months? Heh, it’s been much longer, my love. It’s been a thousand years since I’ve returned.”

(y/n) gasped once more, shocked at how long it’s been. However, curses and shaman alike were surprised by his words. His love?

“I-I’m sorry...I should have found you sooner...I-I had to conserve my energy b-because-” 

A small cooing sound echoed in the room as Sukuna looked up at her in shock. Pulling away from him, the arms that had been stretched behind her moved in front of her. Within her arms held a small bundle, pulling down the cloth slightly Sukuna gasped at the sight before him. 

A small boy, only a few months old, gazed at him with strikingly similar red eyes with a black sclera. The baby’s scrunched face gave way to the marks underneath his eyes and down his chubby cheeks. A small hand pushed its way through the buddle which (y/n) quickly held onto, gently rubbing her thumb back and forth the baby’s hand.

“Susumu...say hi to, Papa.”

The woman cooed softly, however it was quickly ruined by the rushing of backup shaman, rushing to the scene and immediately firing off their attacks, all aimed at the woman and the bundle in her hands.

Without hesitation Sukuna blocked their attacks, drawing the two of them close to him before releasing his own attack to knock them all back. As the dust settled a small voice cried as a mother hushed her child but to no avail.

Turning to face his child Sukuna looked down at him owlishly. With a small smile the woman handed the crying child over to his father who held him so gently in his own arms. 

“Hello little one, quite the charmer aren’t you.”

He snickered at the almost toothless grin he received. Sukuna wiggled his fingers in front of his son causing the young boy to laugh however the joy was short lived until Sukuna grunted. In a rush he almost dropped their son, however he quickly gave him back to his mother.

“Damn it...No no no!”

He growled in anger before the markings disappeared leaving behind a confused Itadori. The poison had been cured causing his consciousness to return allowing him to take control once more. Hearing the fussing of a child he turned and looked at the shocked woman as she shakily held a child that reached out to him.

Taking a few confusing steps back the baby frowned before letting out a loud cry, however this time it was different. The loud cry let out a shockwave knocking back everyone and everything, except for his mother who looked down at the ground, tears pooling in her eyes once more. 

She aimlessly tried to soothe her child but their cries wouldn’t stop. Using all of her arms she held the baby close to her chest, soothing the child of the shockwave, but not of his tears. Biting her lip (y/n) looked at Itadori with tears in her eyes.

“W-Why? I don’t understand…”

The teenager opened his mouth however the sound of a liquid hitting the floor caused them all to look at the bleeding wound now coming from her chest. Looking down she noticed how her child no longer cried, but had a frown present on his bloody face. 

“He’s hungry…”

She murmured to herself before extending her wings to fly once again. Floating over she went to the twitching body of a weakened shaman. Looking down at him her hair stabbed through his chest causing him to let out a guttural choking sound before he paled, he skin wrinkled as though he aged significantly. 

“He’s hungry, I have to feed him...Food for Susumu.”

She now hummed looking around at the aray of shamans on the verge of death. Before anyone could breathe her hair stabbed each of them through their chest, each person gagging and gasping before she absorbed their energy. She was moving onto the next row before she felt a presence behind her. Itadori had attempted to punch her away however she easily dodged it. A section of her hair grabbed him by the wrist before holding him in the air.

“Please don’t do that...not while you look like h-him...Not while you look like my husband…”

She whimpered before floating towards the whole she created earlier. Looking back at him with a tearful expression, Itadori felt as though his heart was being taken out of him when she heard her broken sob.

“Why can’t I have him back?”

[babysubinnie]

don’t hate me // kim doyoung (treasure)

💎 pairing:: kim doyoung x reader 💎 genre:: demigod!doyoung,, poseidon’s son!doyoung,, angst 💎 summary: kim doyoung is the love of your live, and always will be ever since you were kids. but now, at the age of 18, the secret that he was going to take to his grave was revealed.

a/n: i don’t know how i feel bout this,, i might take it down but im trying it ————————————————————————

"what did you do that everyone hates you so much?" as i finished the question, i thought to myself if this was really what i wanted him to tell me. i wanted to protect with my life at this point i didn’t even know what was was going to come out of his mouth.

"i.. can't tell you. you'll hate me too." he looked down biting his lip, then looked up at me then behind me. he only did that when he wanted to hide something from me. he wasn’t a very good liar. 

"doyoung.. i couldn't hate you no matter what you did wrong." 

"no seriously, y/n, if I told you what I did, nothing will be the same anymore. and if i bring up the past, all of those memories, of me being isolated from everyone just because i stole the power lig-" he cut himself off. in our world, the power light was the most powerful thing that could ever exist in our world. it held the power of all of the past gods and goddesses. i read about it in a thousand of the books that were in our library. i read that if someone took it off the post, then that person would get all of the power transferred to him or her.

for some reason, i never heard about who the person that stole it was. i never thought doyoung would do something like this. i never heard about doyoung being the one who took it off the post. but i wasn't mad at him. i can't hate him if there's no reason to. right?

he was the son of poseidon, and to be olympic swimmer. he was the best of the best but this? it could get him banned from any olympic stadium, even all stadiums. this was his dream ever since we were kids, and now this could risk it all. 

"doyoung.” i held my breath as i spoke. i didn't exactly know what to do because i found out who stole the power light. he could still have power in him, no matter what, and at this point, anything could have triggered his powers, he could even kill the most powerful god.

"why did you do it?" i looked down and then back up at him. he was still upset that he had accidentally told me about his secret.

"i did it because my dad told me to. it was only to get rid of me. you know that we have a bad relationship. he acted like he cared for two seconds before persuading me to get the power light. and when I did, he sent me into total isolation. it’s what he wanted in the first place." he looked at me with worry filling his eyes that i would hate him. 

doyoung and his dad didn’t have the best relationship, ever since doyoung was a kid. there wasn’t a specific reason why they didn’t get along, i guess it was some type of power clash. doyoung always wanted to be close with his father like junkyu was, but he never had the chance.

"i don't get it doyoung." i started thinking about it, and the more i thought about it, he knew just as well as anyone of us. the power light was important to everyone, but when he took it, he took that power. we learnt about that light at school, and it was not put lightly. everyone knew the power it held and everything else in between.

"it doesn-" i was facing the outside of the building when his dad walked through the doors and up to us. soon after, his guards followed him out walking up to doyoung. they grabbed both of his arms, and i had a little bit of hesistation but i knew, this was going to be the last time i see him. i threw my arms around his shoulders pulling him into the biggest hug in the world. the three seconds that they let go of doyoung, was the three seconds i wish would never end, but it did.

“thank you for everything my love." he smiled weakly before i took in his scent one last time. i hugged him tightly because if i let go, he would be gone forever. i bit my lip looking at the ground when they were getting ready to pull him away. i kept my arms around his shoulders trying not to let him go. i couldn’t look at him no matter what. that hug was going to be the only thing left. 

"i’m sorry y/n." his dad pulled us apart and all 11 boys ran out. they grabbed my arms holding me back so that i wouldn't try to keep doyoung here longer. before he got into the car, he looked at me with teary eyes as they pulled him to the car. 

"i love you." they pulled doyoung so that he was far away from me as possible before putting him in the car. before i knew it, tears were running down my face faster than i could run. and i could run pretty fast. i tried running to him. all 11 boys only held me back with an even tighter grip.

"he'll be back y/n." yedam turned me around hugging me tightly. i hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder. he pulled away from me putting his hand on the back of my head, while smiling. i turned around to get one more look but doyoung was gone. even though they said doyoung would be back, i had a feeling he wasn't.

no it wasn’t a feeling, i was sure. 

[aliasimagines]

Runaway Lovers // Jason Todd

a/n: So. This did not turn out how I planned, at all but I love it, to the point that I might continue it in the future. I saw a few people do arranged marrige au's ( I'm looking at you @im-hqlover) and I thought... Why not? But I put in a little twist, threw in some angst (don't worry it didn't turn out to be heartbreaking) and I got this. This is supposed to be set in the 1800s (around the 60s or 70s). ALSO Happy freaking Birthday to Jason! ❤️ Hope you guys enjoy reading

word count: 1409

As soon as you heard you ran. You did not care about your beautiful dress as you stepped into dirty puddles on your way. You did not care for your father’s shouts as he screamed for you to stay. You did not care fpr the people you shouldered as you ran on the cobble stoned streets.

No you did not care about all these. You only cared to find him. He must have heard it too. And he must be furious. Even more than you are.

You ran through the open, black iron gate and towards the huge manor where you spent oh so many of your time.

You didn’t even have to knock, the door already opened as soon as you stood in front of it. And behind it, stood and elderly man with a small mustache. His face showed empathy.

„Miss Y/N. I am deeply sorry.”

For a moment you felt your anger drifting away just a little bit.

„Thank you Alfred.”

He nodded his head and pointed you in direction. You didn’t needed it honestly, he knew that too. Both of you could hear the muffled shouting from the salon.

You lifted your gown again, so it wouldn’t bother you as you rushed to the door. You opened it. Just enough so you could take a look inside.

You saw Mr Wayne opposite from the door, in front of the brick fireplace. He still wore that suit and coat he did not long ago when he and your father had a ’business meeting’ in your home. You couldn’t really read his face but the way he stood..he was frustrated. Suddenly a shouting young man blocked your view. He stood with his back facing you, but you recognized him. How could you not? It was Jason, the love of your life.

„...no choice?! Are your factories worth more to you than your own sons’ happiness?”

Ah yes, if you weren’t sure till now about his knowledge on the thing, his words made it crystal clear. The eldest Wayne closed his eyes for a moment, massaging the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

„No. Of course, not but without Y/N’s father we can not keep up the factories. Think about the thousands of poor people who wouldn’t have jobs!”

You could almost hear Jason’s next words (I don’t care!)

You opened the door now. You were still raging on the inside but you spoke with a quiet, soft voice.

„Jason...” you gently touched his shoulder, he spin around in a speed of light and took you in his arms.

„Y/N.” he breathed, suddenly feeling a really strong urge to break down and cry. But wouldn’t you, in his place? He just learned that the girl he loves, more than anything, has to marry his older brother because of the deal your fathers made.

„I am sorry Y/N. I tried everything but your father insisted that you marry my eldest son.” Bruce looked... Ashamed?

You were about to respond something when you heard sniffing. Until now you haven’t even noticed the quietly crying figure on the couch. There was, Richard Grayson, with his face buried in his hands. And you remembered the long ginger haired girl he used to hang around a lot.

„I don’t want this.” you said, pulling yourself closer to Jason.

Bruce looked at his two older sons and you, who he knew since your birth, and he left the room, filled with guilt and frustration, he left without a word.

Jason looked after him with eyes shining from the over flown tears.

„I can’t believe he done this... And your father! I knew he didn’t like me but this... This is just... Insane.”

You could disagree with him, neither could you speak because if you were to open your mouth you’d start sobbing and then maybe you couldn’t ever stop.

You stood still in each other’s embrace, Dick was looking at the ceiling with watery eyes when the door reopened.

But it wasn’t Bruce. It was a beautiful woman, whom you seen so many times.

„Dry your tears, children and hurry up.” she said in a firm tone.

All three of you looked at her.

„What?”

She sighed inpatiently.

„I am not letting my idiot of a husband ruin your lives. Jason, Y/N follow me to the stable. I took the liberty of packing your bags.”

Jason lett go of you so he could look at his adoptive mother.

„Selina.. I don’t get it.”

Neither did Dick or you but he was the only one to voice this.

„Kid there’s no time for this- ah damn it! You know how you said you always wanted to travel around the world? Well Jason now you can, with Y/N. Two horses are waiting for you.”

„Why would you do this for us Miss Kyle?”you ask. She shakes her head.

„Told you. I want all of you to be happy. If you ran away with Jason, Dick can’t marry you.”

Dick was the first to react. He lunged forward and hugged the woman.

„Thank you so much Selina!” he turned to you. „Excuse me, but I am so happy I don’t have to marry you, darling!”

A little laugh escaped your lips. You were too. Richard was like a brother to you. To imagine him being your husband...brr.

Jason rolled his eyes at his brother.

„Of course, you should be happy.” even though he sounded annoyed he smiled at his brother with such love. He hugged him.

„I guess it’s goodbye , brother.”

„But only for now, little brother” Dick laughed and hugged me too. „Look out for each other, alright?”

You both noded.

„Come now, dears, we must hurry.”

„What about Timothy, Cass, Duke and Damian and little Helena?” Jason asks in a panicked vioce. To leave without saying goodbye to them..

„We don’t have the time Jace. I promise I will explain everything to them when the two of you are out of town. But we really need to get going.”

She lead the way out, on a narrow hallway, which you couldn’t quite recall even though you spent most of your time at the manor considering how your father never really had time for you.

„Jason in the bag which I strapped to your horse, you’ll find an address. It’s on the other side of the city but if you get there till midnight two of my friends will wait for you outside and take you in for the night. They will help you get on a ship at dawn. „

You knew how Selina was a mysterious woman but this sounded wild even for her.

„ What friends? „you asked as the same time a Jason asked:” Where is the ship sailing to?”

„ The two of you have to many questions.” she opened a door to outside. You could see the barn.

„Old friends that I trust. And to Europe. To France.”

„Good thing I know french.” Jason smiled.

„Yes, it is a good thing. Use it! And don’t tell anyone who you are.” she now turned to you. „Your father...I know he will move every stone to find you.”

You arrived next to the horses.

„Everything you will need is in your bags. The money will be enough for a few months if you are clever with it. Put these on.” Selina tossed a cloaked robe at each of you. „Use the path through the garden and turn right next to the old fountain. You’ll find yourself on the street in a couple of minutes.”

She watches as the two of you hop on your horses.

„I know you are smart. Both of you. But be careful. And I will miss you. So make sure to write me a letter once in a while, young man!”

Jason smiled and leaned down to kiss Selina’s forehead.

„I promise... But, Selina..what about Bruce?

„He.. He needs time. That idiot. But he will come around” Jason nods at her answer.

Jason looked at you, with questioning eyes, he wanted to know if you really want this. You took a deep breath and smiled at him.

„Thank you for everything Selina.”

She just waved for the two of you to leave. You did, you rode away on your horses as fast as they were able to run. And as you left the manor grounds, you knew, this was just the beginning of a great life.

[lollia-tea]

im bored and ive done nothing productive at all today and spent half the day staring at my bookshelf so here's some manga that i have that aren't (i don't think) super well known but i thought were good (i also haven't read some of these in years, so lmao...)

Rust Blaster - by that lady that did Black Butler. i hate BB with a passion, but this funky little oneshot is 😘👌 there's vampires but i don't remember why

Are You Alice? - My love!!! My love!!! My love!!! Favourite manga ever!!! Hands down!!!!!! I have an eight page essay written about the White Rabbit and the March Hare and that only encompasses 2/12 volumes. Basic premise is that this dude Alice(?) finds himself in Wonderland and is told that he needs to kill the White Rabbit to fix the story of 'Alice in Wonderland' and everything just s p i r a l s from there. Okay im not really 100% sure on wtf is going on in the plot, but this is the manga i point to for reference to what subtext really is. The White Rabbit and the March Hare own my entire heart, i love my sons....

Nabari no Ou - like, it has an anime so its not as unknown as some of these, but its still pretty underrated. The anime's not bad, but it finished before the manga did so the endings are different. Be Prepared to Sob. my fondest memory of this series is eating Taco Bell while reading it and crying so hard my taco legit melted in my hands. Found family feels straight to the heart. Ninjas. By Yuhki Kamatani so that's reason alone to read it (literally, everything by Kamantani is gold and so underrated, Shounen Note and Shimanami Tasogare are also some favourites)

Dolls Code - my favourite horror manga hands. down. (warning, its psychological and gorey horror. also a warning for r*pe and other s*xual ab*se, self h*rm, m*rder, human xperimentation...it can be a bit intense) people are taken to this remote place and have body parts taken from them that correspond to their crimes, if they pass all these tests one of them can leave but *gasp* there's an imposter among us made from everyone's stolen body parts

Takeru: Opera Susanoh Sword of the Devil - geez that's a long name, anyways idk wtf happened in this i just know i binged it in one night and scoured the web to buy it the next day. a+, obviously

Seven Princes of the Thousand Year Labyrinth - s...seven dudes....stuck in...a labyrinth. of death. Found Family feels to the max again. Its really good and. i love it, okay. i had to wait so long for an official translation for this, you guys, you dont understand

The Girl From the Other Side - im going to sOB its precious i love it. a sweet little girl and the demon who takes her in and looks after her. they can't touch but they love each other sO MUch...Demon Dad Best Dad (note: i haven't...read all of this yet whoops)

Ohana Holoholo - i am a sucker for people finding families through a single parent and their kid okay. that's my Trope. also bi rep! we love

Bloody Mary - vampires and gay, what more could you want

🌸🌷🌼🌷🌸