#them playing “you should see me in a crown” at the end was a SERVE

[boundinblueleather]

Listen, I just think everyone currently invested in Agatha All Along should rewatch the WandaVision finale. Reasons: The dynamic between Agatha and Wanda is so interesting and reflects directly in the last scene with Agatha and Billy in episode five. Agatha figures out what Wanda is (the Scarlet Witch), but when looking at her, sees this new young witch who doesn't/shouldn't know how to use her powers. They fight, and she is stripped of her magic. As she realizes what this means and especially when she realizes Wanda's going to turn her back into Agnes, she pleads frantically. (Side note: it says something about her character how quickly she can switch from acting on top of the world and invincible to completely helpless. I'm not going to get more into that, but it's something to ponder.) With Teen, he was this young wiccan whom she felt protective of, mostly because he reminded her of Nicholas. When she learned that he for sure wasn't hers at the end of episode four, I think she had already known but was just holding out on the only hope she could. Then, she still cares for him but starts analyzing who he could be. The pajamas are a dead giveaway but not concrete evidence. It's his attitude, mainly, in which she sees his mother. The woman she had mostly wanted power from, true, but unusually for Agatha, there were lots of times when she wanted to be her friend as well. In Teen who is now Billy, now not only not her own but disgustingly hers, she sees a teenager who is so naïve and hopeful that he thinks he can use magic without hurting people. (He probably can, but Agatha has grown up her entire life being told she was evil, only being able to take more power by killing others, and then making it into her personality because what else could she do? She is evil, everyone says so - even her mother, and when they don't give her a chance to prove them wrong, she decides to prove them right. It's a game now, a joke. Of course you can't be a witch without being evil to some degree. Magic is taken from the weak, the undeserving, and given to her. If she finds people she cares about, she is loathe to admit it, even to herself, because love is always a weakness. They always stab her in the back. Her struggle with this is a focal point of the show.) So, when Billy says he won't hurt people, it's like when Wanda thought she could take the Darkhold and become some other, good version of the Scarlet Witch. It's ridiculous, and he really is just like his mother. Then, when Billy gets really angry and finally snaps, finally demands respect, and Agatha is still near powerlessness (and might not even want to use Alice's powers, even though they feel like a drug, because they belonged to her?), she realizes he can destroy her, and all she can do is plead mercy - the same thing she had claimed was overrated an hour ago. I could probably go on, especially about Billy's side of the story, but this is mostly what I needed to get out.

[thought--bubble]

Prized Possession

Dark Aemond X (Maid Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,775

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Cheating, Smut, Dub-con, Slight choking, a little bit of roughness.

It is a sad day at storms end. Your lady, the lady you serve, the sweet, caring, and gentle lady Floris Baratheon was to be wed in a few weeks' time.

This would normally be a cause for celebration, yet the sad look forever etched onto the face of your sweet lady made it clear that this is not the case.

She is to marry Prince Aemond Targaryen. A betrothal that brings her house closer to the crown. Yet Aemond is known for his cruelty, Lady Floris being the sweet and gentle lady she is, has been regretful for weeks wishing beyond all hope that somehow, she would be freed from his harshness, his cruelty, and the emotionless expression that sits upon his face every time he has visited storms end since the betrothal.

Lady Floris constantly wracked with fear clings closely to you, her personal chamber maid. You are but 2 years older than your lady. Assigned to work with her since childhood, the same way your elder sister was assigned to work with Lady Cassandra.

This was for the comfort of the Baratheon ladies, of course. Having a chamber maid that would grow up with them, to give them a source of comfort, someone to trust.

So, when Lady Floris requested that you accompany her to Kings Landing, you were not surprised. Ever since the announcement of the betrothal, you knew you would end up in kings landing, helping your Lady care for the little princes and princesses she would no doubt bear for her husband.

So, when the time came to leave, you packed your few belongings and hugged your sister tight and followed Lady Floris into her carriage with a heavy heart. Although you served Lady Floris, you also cared for her deeply. You knew her fears, her desires, and her dreams.

The trip was somber, but you did your best to keep her spirits up. Playing little games with strings tied around your fingers that you have played since you were girls.

When you arrived at Kings Landing, poor Lady Floris was a ball of nerves. She wanted nothing more than to run. You stood close by her as she requested her feeling safer with you by her side.

As she is once again introduced to her betrothed and the dowager Queen, you do a quick curtsy and stand behind her head down as is your place.

While they talk and exchange their pleasantries you feel as if someone is watching you. Staring into you, so harshly the hair stands up on the back of your neck. You know this isn't possible. Who would be watching you?

The rest of the night goes just as it should. You accompany Lady Floris as she walks about the grounds until it is time to return to her chambers to get her ready for her evening meal with the royal family. You assist her with her hair and dress, softly cooing to her all the while attempting to make her feel at ease.

You see her off as she takes her father's hand so he can escort her. You close the door to her chambers and continue to unpack her things. You have worked with her for so long you know exactly how she likes her things and want to make this new space as comforting to her as possible.

She has only been gone mere moments before there is a knock on the door. You chuckle to yourself thinking your Lady forgot something. When you open the door, you come face to face with her betrothed. Prince Aemond Targaryen stands before you his regality seeps from his every pore. head held high; chin pushed forward he looks down at you.

You quickly fall into a curtsy. "I-I'm sorry my prince. Your betrothed has already left, Lord Baratheon has already escorted her."

"Of that I am aware" He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. "I have actually come to see you."

"Me?" you hardly squeak out the word. Why in all of Westeros would he be there to see you?

"That scar" he gestures toward your left eye.

The thing you hate most about yourself is that horrid scar, running around with your sister and the Ladies you both serve falling, nearly gouging your own eye out, the aftermath leaving you with a jagged scar from your eyebrow to just underneath your eye. It is your most unpleasant memory.

"Childhood injury" You attempt to angle your face, so the scar is less visible.

"No need to hide it from me" He steps up close to you taking your chin in his hand and turning your head, inspecting the scar. He runs a cold course finger down the raised flesh. You cringe at the sensation.

He lowers his head to your eyebrow and places a soft kiss on the mark there, then, without a word, backs away from you and quickly exits the room.

The next few days you stay glued to Lady Floris' side. She and Aemond take walks daily trying to get to know each other. Since they are betrothed, they are not to be left alone. Thus, you are forced to accompany them on these forays around the castle.

The worst part being Prince Aemonds's ever lingering eye. He feigns interest while he allows Lady Floris to babble incessantly while almost always keeping that one cold, violent eye locked on you, and each day as Lady Floris becomes more and more besotted with the prince, you fall deeper and deeper into despair.

A week before the wedding you are walking behind Aemond and Lady Floris as Floris chatters on about her love for music when you are suddenly interrupted by a guard who was sent to collect Lady Floris and bring her to her Lord father.

When you go to follow her, the guard stops you. "He wishes to speak with her privately"

Floris turns to you and asks you to wait for her in her chambers, to which you quickly agree. You are left standing with Aemond as you watch her walk away.

Silence falls between you until you curtsy and go to take your leave. You can feel him walking behind you, and you make your way through the castle. The light tapping of his feet echoing yours.

You wait to hear his feet trail off in a different direction the closer you get to your lady's chambers, but they don't. Aemond continues to quietly follow behind you even as you arrive at your destination.

You attempt to pretend he isn't there and enter the chambers swiftly, attempting to close the door behind you. He chuckles to himself and holds the door open with his hand entering behind you.

You act shocked, "my prince! umm, did you need my assistance with something?"

Aemond says nothing just stalks closer to you until his chest is pressed up against you. You attempt to back up, but he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you tightly against him. He leans down and nibbles at your neck, sending a wave of pleasure across your delicate skin. Your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the feeling, his hand travels down your back, pushing you tighter to his body.

When he begins to pull up the skirts of your dress, your eyelids fly open, and you push him back.

"My price," you hesitate. "You are to marry Lady Floris. This is most inappropriate. I serve her and must remain loyal to her"

You turn your head away, just briefly, but it is enough to draw his ire.

"You may be her chamber maid. You may serve her, but make no mistake, she is to be my wife, and when that happens, everything that is hers becomes mine"

You hold your breath, with your eyes downcast. As he walks toward the door to exit the room, he stops beside you and places his hand on your shoulder.

"That includes you"

He exits the room swiftly, slamming the door behind him, leaving your head reeling. There is nothing left to wonder, he has made his intentions abundantly clear, and you are torn between the loyalty and love you have for Lady Floris and the physical reaction of your body to his touch.

You do your best to avoid him over the coming week. It isn't too difficult to do since Floris has been very busy preparing for the wedding, and you have been stuck to her side.

The wedding proceeds, and you stand in the crowd proudly. Your lady looks so beautiful, so poised. The ceremony is beautiful. The feast goes well. She goes off with her new husband. He hadn't spared a glance your way the entire day. Oddly, this left you with a mix of emotions. Relief that he may have come to his senses, as well as grief that he may have come to his senses.

As wrong as you knew, it was you longed to feel his callous fingertips graze your skin. His teeth pulling at your neck. You push these thoughts out of your mind. He is with his wife, Lady Floris, whom you love and respect.

The next morning, while brushing Lady Floris' hair you inwardly cringe as she describes the events of the night before. How her new husband was so gentle with her and so sweet. How he gave her space to recover and collect her thoughts afterward.

You found this difficult to reconcile. Gentle? Sweet? Caring about the needs of others? This is not characterization that populated in your head after your encounters with the prince.

The rest of this day is exhausting Floris flouncing about excitedly telling other ladies how her husband is so misunderstood and is truly charming and loving.

You had never been so excited for a day to end. After helping Floris out of her day clothing and into her night clothing, you wish her a good night and make your way back to your chambers close by that you share with two other maids.

You couldn't have been sitting more than a minute before you are summoned to the private chambers of Prince Aemond.

You sigh and rub your eyes in frustration. The entire walk to his chambers, your thoughts are spiraling. What does he want? He is a married man! A gentle caring one, apparently! Could he be apologizing? Swearing me to secrecy?

As you knock on his door, your stomach is doing somersaults. When you hear his voice beckoning you to enter, you quickly open the door and step inside, closing the door behind you.

You slowly make your way into the room to see him sitting by the hearth rubbing the tips of his fingers against the wooden armrest of the chair in which he is sitting.

"You summoned me, my prince?" You clasp your hands together in front of you delicately on your stomach while pacing your breathing. One -two breathe one-two breathe.

He stands from the chair without a word quickly makes his way to you and grabs the back of your neck before harshly pressing his lips down on yours. You melt into the kiss for a moment before your logic prevails.

" My prince! We can not!" You stagger back slightly but he immediately advances upon you.

"You are a servant are you not?" He barks

You nod

"You belong to my wife, and my wife belongs to me." he closes the gap between you, bringing his fingers up to the side of your cheek.

"Her things are now my things." he runs his thumb across your pouty bottom lip and brings his mouth right next to your ear,

"even her most prized possession"

He starts to unlace the strings on your dress as you stand there and watch, eyes opened wide with shock.

"That makes you my servant" he pulls the dress off pushing it harshly to the floor.

"Now serve"

He pushes you back gently. You follow his lead and continue to walk back until your calfs hit the hard wooden surface of his bed frame.

He grabs you by the thighs, lifting you up and tossing you onto the bed before he quickly climbs over you like a lion stalking its prey.

"I have to give her children, a title, and a gentle husband. Everything else I give to you."

You silently stare up at him as he leans back to pull the white linen shirt he is wearing off, exposing his pale firm chest.

He leans back down, biting your neck and pushing himself up against you.

"You get the real me." As he says this, he grabs your throat and holds it tight.

He looks at you with a devilish smile as he slowly squeezes tighter and tighter. You can feel your face growing hot as you find it harder and harder to breathe before he finally releases you.

He unlaces his breeches, pulling them off hastily, and you breathe in hard, trying to regain air in your lungs.

He pushes your shift up and tears your underclothes off before bringing his hand between your legs.

He chuckles as his fingers meet the wetness there.

"You like the animal in me, don't you, sweet girl?" You don't say anything but moan softly as he moves his hand in a circular motion.

He brings his other hand back up to your throat and holds it tight. He doesn't cut off your air this time but holds you in place as he dips his long, bony middle finger inside of you. You jump a little at the feeling and he pushes back against your neck.

"So warm, so soft." he growls, and his eye locks on his hand as he moves it in and out of your body with building quickness.

You can't help but arch your back as he finds a spot inside of you that forces your body to react.

"You serve so well. You will do fine, sweet girl" he continues to move his hand while rubbing at your clit with his thumb holding you in place by the throat the whole time.

The pleasure in your lower body builds and builds with you powerless to escape it until it takes over your entire being, sending shockwaves up and down the entire length of your body.

He quickly removes his hand and replaces it with the tip of his cock dragging it along your entrance just barely tapping your clit making you twitch.

He uses one hand to guide himself into you while the other one keeps to its rightful place around your throat.

He enters you quickly, it hurts, and he knows it, and when you look at his face, you know he enjoys that fact.

He pushes himself into you repeatedly, always keeping his eye on the spot where your bodies connect, watching himself slide in and out a look of satisfaction on his face.

You whimper quietly, your body, feeling a mix of pleasure, pain, and adrenaline.

"Do you feel that sweet girl?" He coos

You nod and whimper as he increases his pace.

"That's me.....tearing you apart." he brings his mouth to your cheek and licks the tear rolling down.

He rubs your pearl with his thumb and squeezes your neck tighter again cutting off your air supply.

"Fall apart for me" he grunts while slamming into you harder.

You gasp for air as that feeling of pleasure builds back up in your lower body.

"I need you to break." he slams into you even harder, biting his bottom lip and groaning loudly.

He rubs furiously at your pearl, and for a second time, you feel your entire body shatter as you continue to attempt to breath.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation of you gripping around him, then quickly pulls out, pumping himself to completion onto your stomach.

He lays back on the bed, and neither of you move for a few minutes just trying to regain your thoughts. After a bit, you get up to find something to clean yourself with. You end up just using your underclothes too afraid to use something of his.

As you pick up your clothes and start to redress yourself he stops you.

"Where are you going?" He asks, not even sitting up on the bed to look at you.

"Back to my quarters" you start to slide your dress over your body.

He finally sits up and looks at you. He grips his cock in his hand starting to pump himself again.

"Not yet, I still have need for my servant"

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[sky-kiss]

prompt: Raphael giving a genuine love confession to tav (that is unintelligible due to him being a devil…a too subtle love confesion?… maybe something that sounds like a threat or an attempt for deal for their soul? i just would like if you could show me this clown being a failure at emotions XD)

Raphael kept his word. 

There’s no ambush waiting for her in the House of Hope. It’s only Raphael, resplendent in a black silk shirt. It’s a far cry from the elegant doublet he favors, simultaneously more expensive and relaxed. Relaxed is what she fixates on; a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. The devil’s smile could nearly pass for genuine. 

He offers his arm, helping Tav into her seat. Raphael has left nothing to chance: the table is set, lavishly. The wine is rich and decadent, the finest vintages in his expansive cellar. The cost must amount to a small fortune, but the devil spares it no more than a passing thought; what Tav has provided is infinitely more valuable. 

The Crown of Karsus. The key to his freedom and his heart's desire. One thousand years of longing brought to a suitably climactic conclusion. The cambion settles into his seat with a small sigh, massaging his forehead. The nightmare will pass. He will establish himself as Archdevil Supreme. He will…

“You���re more subdued than I would have expected,” Tav says, tracing the rim of her glass. A bruise stretches from the curve of her jaw to the bridge of her nose, splotchy and ugly, a blemish on an otherwise lovely face. It must hurt; when she smiles, she winces. “No theatrics? I’d have expected an impromptu poetry recital if nothing else.” 

“Loathe as I am to disappoint you, pet, I have nothing to offer.” 

“I understand.” Tav slumps in her chair. The newly christened hero of Baldur’s Gate looks small, hair wild, bags rimming her eyes from too many sleepless nights. “It’s wonderful to reach the end. But…” The smile and its accompanying wince. “I just find myself feeling tired.” 

He dislikes seeing her like this: small, delicate, and yielding. It isn’t his mouse. His pet is fire and drive, her ambition mated to his own. The cambion hums, tapping his jaw. “And still you’d return to the Gate. You’ll play the hero.” 

Tav chuckles and finally sips the wine. He considers slipping a restorative draught into her next cup if only to deal with the damned bruise. He hates looking at it, hates seeing his toys marked by a hand other than his. “Someone has to restore the city.”

“Shall it be redemption, mouse? Striving to set right sins you barely remember?” She doesn’t respond. He knows he’s struck a nerve. In a perfect world, she’d rage at him, all her delicious fury brought to bear. Raphael cocks his head to the side. He speaks the words carefully, slowly, as if tasting a fresh dish and still determining the flavor. “Let it die, hero. Wretched as your mortality may be, it is full of such delicious potential. If you must tie a millstone around that lovely neck…” he frowns. Tav watches him, eyes narrowed, and lips pursed, as if she’s waiting. As if she expects what he’s about to say. He loathes it; the damned little thing should never have been allowed so close. “Let it be mine. Serve me.” 

“Serve you?” She laughs. “Raphael, I’ve only just reclaimed my life. Why would I put it in your hands?” 

“Why not? Have I not been reasonable? Have I not treated you well?” 

“For a devil.” Conditional approval. Fury roils in his belly. 

“You would have power and wealth. Everything a mortal desired. Under my yoke, you will be kept young and beautiful. We will dine like this every night.” 

Tav licks her lips. The House is too warm, and she is so mortal. Her eyes glitter with something. Not desire, not strictly, but something like pity. “And what? I kill your enemies? I run your errands? Warm your bed?” 

The stab of want threatens to choke him. When he speaks, it’s only just above a growl, the words rumbling through them. “Yes. Eternally.”

“Raphael.” she sighs, scrubbing a hand through her hair. Messy, like all her kin. He wants so badly to impose order. If he could only have her if she would only submit. The hero stands, crossing to him. It’s a strange twist. The mouse touches his cheek. Her skin is warm. An inane voice in his head chants to him: take her, taste her. He wants to taste her. “I should go.” 

He could make her stay, could break her. But it would taste like ash on his tongue. He holds his head high, smirking. “You will receive no better offer.” 

She doesn’t backpedal, just presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re probably right. Give them hell, devil.” 

And as is so often the case, he’s left alone. 

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Pyrite - Chapter 1: Gold Crown

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader.

Chapter Summary: During your first week as the Queen's handmaid, you overhear something you shouldn't have.

Warnings: Discussions of death, grief, abortion, and scheming. None of those happen to reader.

A/N: Alysanne Targaryen, you feminist icon. Mostly context.

As you walk towards the Queen's chambers, you fight a yawn. Despite the excitement you feel, you are still tired, unused to waking up as early as this.

So far, you have led the life of a girl. Playing around the gardens with the other children, running errands for your mother. But today, your life will change. You will go from girl to woman.

Today will be one of the most important days of your existence. The only other event that could surpass it will be the day you finally meet the lady you will serve.

It's a labor of love, your mother says. To serve faithfully next to a Queen is to be strong and loyal, but most of all, loving. You will get to know all her secrets, only you will see her bared body, and all its imperfections. You will learn to love this woman as if she were your little sister, for you will be the only one to know her as she is. Past the crown and the jewels, and down to the very mortal flesh that a Targaryen Queen has.

The Red Keep is where your family has served for generations. Your grandmother is full of tales about the cruelty of King Maegor, and his various wives. Your mother has served Queen Alysanne faithfully, ever since both of them were mere girls. You come from a lineage of handmaidens, born to serve the greatest Queens Westeros has ever seen.

In your family, being born a girl is a blessing. When a boy is born, the family weeps for the opportunity lost. Your mother had been the only girl out of her siblings, and now you, an only child, get to learn her trade.

One of your earliest memories comes with being taught to read and write. A handmaiden must know all the recipes for beauty, and create her own. Never for embellishing herself, but rather her lady. Every woman in your family keeps her own book, tailored to the lady she serves. As a child, you dreamed of the day you would be handed your own journal, and today is the day it will finally happen.

You will get to meet Queen Alysanne today. She is the most loved and kind Queen your family has served. Your mother has always spoken highly of her, telling tales of her beauty and grace.

Her story is the story all little girls dream of living. She had married for love, defying her family, and ended up being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She had it all, once. Riches, beauty and a loving family. But as of late, you know her life has not been the fairy tale it used to be.

One of her sons, Prince Aemon, passed away a few years ago. The loss of her daughter had made the Queen even sadder and morose, and now, her other son was rumored to be running himself ragged with the responsibilities that came with being Hand. He worked so much, his health was debilitating.

The Queen walked around the Red Keep as if in a stupor. Your mother said that she had left her changed. No longer, the Queen had a thirst for life, nor did she care much about anything. The only thing that had broken her out of her sadness had been the fact that her granddaughter, Rhaenys, had been declared unfit to be heir to the Iron Throne.

“If your Grace truly believes that women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me.” The Queen had said to the King, that time. Everyone found her words so surprising, but not you. Your mother had always said she was a champion for women, noble and commoners alike.

The succession issue was not only the royal's, but yours too. On it depended whom you would serve, which Queen you would tend to for the rest of your days.

Prince Aemon left only one heir. Princess Rhaenys, a beautiful woman who inherited her father's eyes. It should be her who should be Queen, your mother says. It's only right. But she has already been passed over already, the King declared Prince Baelor his heir. Now Prince Baelor is weakening, and the issue resurfaces again.

You think that Princess Rhaenys would make for an interesting lady. She is married already and she has a young son. She would be the first Queen in her own right in the history of Westeros and that would make you at least noteworthy to your family history.

The other option is Prince Viserys. Prince Viserys is said to be peaceful and not very gifted with the sword. That's alright, though. He has a brother to do that for him. Prince Viserys is married to a young girl, around your age. Princess Aemma. They are said to love each other very much, despite having married as children. To her, you could be an older sister, you think. She is said to be very kind and royal, despite being an Arryn by birth.

Both of them have their advantages. Prince Viserys would no doubt bring stability, but Princess Rhaenys would implement changes that would surely benefit women.

It would be exciting to be part of such changes. Your mother always remembers fondly her first days as Queen Alysanne’s handmaiden, when she had convinced her husband to abolish First Night. A terrible northern custom that hurt people like you.

It had made waves, your mother had said. The Lords had not wanted to abolish it. But Queen Alysanne had interfered and saved thousands of young girls just like you.

It's difficult to think of the weak old woman laying on her bed as that same fierce Queen. You are allowed in her rooms at sunrise, with your mother and your journal. You watch as she prepares the room to rise her lady, and you sit quietly with the Queen's jewels on your hands and neck. It's one of your new duties, to warm them for your lady.

She looks frail, sleeping between the covers. Aged. Your mother draws the curtains of the room open. In the morning light, antiques and silks shine like jewels. It's ostentatious, and it makes you sick. Only the gowns in this room could feed three or four families for a year.

“It won't be long before now.” Your mother whispers to you. She opens the door and picks up a tray. On it, sits a grapefruit cut in half, eggs, tea, and bread. Your stomach growls. It smells heavenly. Your mother places it on the vanity where you sit, warming your Queen's seat and jewels. It's the worst kind of torture. Your stomach hurts with hunger and you think of your breakfast, a cup of broth that was heavily diluted with water.

As predicted, the Queen slowly starts to stir. She moves, long silver braid whipping around. She has very thin hair, and you wonder how your mother makes up for it. Your journal is ready to note down any tricks she deems to share. You are supposed to note times and other useful things for when the time comes for you to have a lady of your own.

“Good morning, my Queen.” Your mother curtsies, and you hurry to do the same.

“You brought your daughter.” The Queen rasps, eyes still cloudy with sleep. “Come closer.”

Your mothers urges you forward. You obey, unable to believe such an esteemed lady would want to look at you.

“You are a pretty thing.” The Queen says, brushing your cheekbone with her thumb. You lower your eyes, not wanting to offend her by gawking at her. Queen Alyssane's hands are like nothing you've ever felt before, made of the softest velvet. She has never worked a day in her life and it shows. Your mother's hands and yours feel rough by comparison. “Are you married yet?”

“No, my Queen. I wish to settle into my duties first.” You answer, demurely.

“Your duties.” She smiles. “You are a good girl.” Then, to your mother. “I suppose it's not only Rhaenys’s future at stakes, isn't it?”

“It seems like it, my Queen.” Your mother exchanges a look with the Queen. You would never dare gaze upon her like that, but they share a bond after so many years together. Almost a friendship. Or the closest thing to one that a commoner can have with a noble.

“Well. Hopefully, things will speed up soon. I doubt I have many years left, and Jaehaerys…” The distress can be heard in her tone. It makes you feel sad, too. What must it be like to love someone your entire life, and then being parted from them? If you had been in love with someone since you were a child, you wouldn't know how to live without them. It was that fear what had kept the Queen abed. After losing so much, she was afraid to lose even more.

Even if you were not a noble lady, that was a motivation you could understand. Losing your family would devastate you. Fear of it happening again would paralyze you too.

“The King will live longer, your Grace. There is no need to worry.” You said, softly. You weren't too sure it was your place to say so, but your mother's encouraging nod seemed to approve.

“Isn't it? When he insists on her not being Queen. He would rather bypass her rights again instead of naming her Queen.” The Queen said, sharply. Suddenly, she was sitting up straighter on her bed, eyes blazing with fury

“I do not presume to know the King's…” You tried to appease her, but she only became angrier.

“Do you not think it's a sign? Baelor will soon be struck down. I know it. His son is not fit to be King. Rhaenys can rule as well as any man, and she has her husband's support. He rides a dragon too. She also has a strong heir. Why would be Viserys be better?”

“The Lords would…” Your mother interjected, trying to save you from her wrath.

“A cock. He has a cock, and the Lords do too. It is time I show them it doesn't mean what they all think it means.”

And suddenly, Queen Alyssane was alive once more. She got up from her bed and started barking orders to her maidens, you included.

Your mother rushed to clothe her, draping silks over her. The Queen threw them all away, reaching instead for a black dress.

“Get me a quill, girl.” She screamed. “And summon Ser Otto. We have much to talk about.”

So you did. Everyone knew Ser Otto. He was the younger brother of Lord Hightower, and one of the most trusted men in the council. Tall and haughty, he did not take kindly to being summoned in such a way. But once he had a private meeting with Queen Alysanne, his mood greatly improved.

Many more meetings began to take place in the Queen's chambers. Another man had been asked to come and see her. Corlys Velaryon. The Queen said, loudly, that it was about him retaking his position as Master of Ships, but you could tell that was not it.

There was nothing to back your suspicions, though. You were not privy to what happened inside the Queen's chambers, and you only knew so much because you had been tasked with reading outloud her pending tasks each morning.

It was only when Queen Alysanne sent you to pick up some meat pies from the tavern she enjoyed that your suspicions were confirmed.

With your basket and borrowed gold from the Queen, you had gone to the tavern most highborn enjoyed. It was not a real tavern, in your opinion. You had been to a couple of those, with other serving girls and stable boys. Lowborn like you were not allowed here, just as they weren't allowed in the expensive pleasure houses of the Street of Silks. There was no explicit prohibition, but the prices said it all.

What it was, was a good imitation, for young lords to pretend to be having the real experience, and feel adventurous. It was also a good place for seedy meetings among the highborn.

You were making the queue towards the counter to purchase the meat pies, overpriced and made with much better ingredients than any tavern grub when you heard them.

“And you have a daughter, right?”

“A newborn. Alicent.”

At first, you didn't pay much attention, letting the conversation drift over you. It contained nothing out of the ordinary. Just a new father bragging.

“Alicent is a pretty name. Queen Alicent.”

“Laenor is…”

“Barely a few years older than her.”

But then, you realized. You knew those voices! They belonged to the men who often met with the Queen. The one with silver hair was Lord Corlys Velaryon, and he was the husband of Princess Rhaenys. The other one, you could tell, was Ser Otto. There was a third man with them, that you did not recognize. He wore a hood over his head.

“It has a certain ring to it, Hightower.” Lord Corlys laughed.

“We have to move quickly. Before the news spread.” The unknown man said.

“News?” Ser Otto asked, frowning.

“Aemma is pregnant. I fear, if she manages to carry to term, some might prefer Viserys over Rhaenys. If she births a boy…” Lord Corlys grimaced.

“A line of Kings, uninterrupted.” Ser Otto grimaced too.

“She will not birth a boy.” The other man said.

“We can't be too sure about that.”

“I should leave. I have to meet with the Queen in half an hour.” Lord Corlys got up and walked out, passing near you. He spoke the truth. You had read so this morning, on the Queen's itinerary. You tried hard to look very focused on counting your gold coins, despite the Queen having handed you the exact amount.

The silence stretched. Now, you could not hear them as clearly, but you were curious. So you stepped a bit closer and asked the cashier to warm your meat pies, trying to hear more.

“Make sure she does not give birth to a boy.” Ser Otto ordered.

“Trust me. She won't even announce it. I will make sure of it.” The hooded man's voice had a dangerous edge to it.

“We can't have threats to Princess Rhaenys around.”

“And future Queen Alicent, either.” The hooded man replied, his tone turning more teasing. You wondered who this Alicent was, and how they planned to place her on the throne. You did not know any Targaryen by that name.

“That, too. You will be rewarded handsomely, of course.” Ser Otto’s reputation did not indicate him to be humorous, but there was a hint of mirth in his words that could not be faked. He was pleased by the exchange.

“I would like to be Maester of the Red Keep, I think.”

One of the men laughed. The cashier knocked the counter in front of you, annoyed. He was handing you the heated meat pies, and expecting his gold. You paid him without a word. And as you walked towards the exit, bundled pies under your arm, you heard them toast.

“Hear, hear. To Grandmaester Mellos and Otto Hightower, Lord Hand.”

“And baby Queen Alicent.”

“And baby Queen Alicent.”

Your walk back to the castle was troubled. You were smart enough to know the implications of their talk. Did the Queen know? Considering they were meeting outside the Red Keep, it was doubtful. Besides, it didn't fit with what you knew about her. She may have disagreed with the succession, but she would never hurt her granddaughter.

Corlys Velaryon had left before the discussion took place. While as ruthless as his companions, the others seemed wary of involving him. Perhaps because, if the plan was discovered, it would affect Princess Rhaenys claim.

Your mind was racing. You had to tell someone. They were talking about murdering a babe not yet born! Would the Queen believe you? You knew her enough to know that she would not hurt you for speaking, but you doubted she would heed your warning. Instead, she would go straight to Ser Otto. A lowborn girl’s word against the word of a Maester and one of her advisors? The joke told itself.

Your other option was telling the Lord Hand. But Lord Baelor scared you. He was deeply protective of his children after the death of his wife. You didn't know him enough to know he wouldn't murder the messenger.

But you could not keep the memory tucked away either. It burned at you, when you were brushing the Queen's hair. When you were bathing. When you were attempting to fall asleep.

The hooded man said that Princess Aemma would not even get to announce it. Your time was running out. You had to do something.

[yuurei20]

So in the second novel, after Leona's overblot does it go into his past or is it just the speech afterwards?

Hello hello! We see a brief interaction between Leona and his brother that is similar to how things played out in the game.

Some places are identical but other places are only in the game, other places are only in the novel, and other places are similar in both but slightly different, so I put the pieces from each together into a puzzle--I hope this helps!

(The EN translation is great but I am posting screenshots from both servers for just in case anyone is curious)

"From the moment I was born, there’s been a boulder on top of me that’s too heavy to move.

From the very instant I came into this world—no, long before that. This weight has always been here.

Once, when I was too young to understand anything, I asked about it like a fool, and the butler looked genuinely troubled.

Not once, throughout all his long years spent serving the royal family, had he ever worn such a perplexed expression. In that moment I realized that I had no right to desire the throne.

Not to boast, but I was a clever, intelligent child. But even so, someone should have been able to understand me, sooner or later.

I will have my chance, too. Someday, someone will see me for who I am. I was so certain, and I worked so hard.

Until I realized it was all for nothing.

'Come on, let's finish up quickly before Leona-sama returns.' 

The servants are whispering as they clean.

‘I can't deal with such a moody child.' 

I can hear them through the door. 

‘He’s probably out there asking twisted questions, troubling his tutor. Crown Prince Falena-sama is so bright and cheerful, so why is his younger brother Leona-sama so sullen?’

‘It’s so troublesome. And to think a member of our own royal family possesses magic that turns everything to sand...'

‘Both of you, will you stop with that! What will happen if someone overhears you.’

Nothing. That’s how I want to respond, with a laugh. If I were to open this door, step inside, and show them this ‘terrifying power,’ I wonder what their faces would look like.

Of course, I would never do that. 

I used to have them reprimanded, indiscriminately, for being so ill-mannered, but by this point I had stopped. Because I had realized that it will never end.

Unique magic that is inherited at birth has nothing to do with the person’s will, but humans wrapped up in their own superstitions are ignorant to common sense.

Or maybe they think this is a power that I desired, and fought to obtain. Either way, they are not worth dealing with. I dislike hassles. And I hate doing things that have no point.

And yet, I still find myself thinking.

I bet that if I were the Crown Prince, this is what everyone would have said: ‘A promising mage with strong magical power? He is so thoughtful, composed, and completely different from his carefree younger brother.’

I knew thinking about it was pointless, but I couldn't stop. And I started to hate myself for it.

The hope I had been clinging to finally disappeared with the birth of my brother's son.

'Leona! Why weren’t you at today’s ceremony?'

My older brother was so polite as to confront me directly with reality.

‘Ceremony? Ah, you mean the party you threw to parade your child around in front of the nation? Yeah, sorry about that. I ended up going back to sleep.’

‘Such a lazy…the presentation of a future king to the citizens is an important day.’

‘Certainly. An important, joyous day. Since it’s the same day that the despised second prince’s only chance to inherit the throne disappears. Everyone in town and throughout the palace must be undoubtedly relieved.’

Even if both my father and my brother were to die, I cannot become king. The throne is a hopeless prospect. And he knows. He knows that I have longed for the day I would succeed to the throne since I was a child.

And still he believes that it is only natural that I would celebrate the birth of his son.

I cannot bear the kindness of someone so stupid.

‘Do not say it like that!’ 

If you can make such a pained expression as you speak, why don’t you hand over the throne? That glory that you’ve had since you were born without struggling a day in your life.

‘Being born first must be nice. You spend every day singing and lazing around, and become king.’

He furrows his brows, looking sad, as if preparing to counsel me.

‘Leona…you may never be king, but you are still wise. There is so much you could do for this country.’

For this country. What a cruel, detestable thing to say.

‘And? You’re telling me that, for this country, I should serve you obediently? You have some nerve, saying something like that while trying to be all chummy!’

‘That’s not what I mean! You cannot let that power of yours rot away, unused.’

‘And maybe if this country selected its kings on the basis of intelligence, I’d be motivated to do something with it.’

If I have to talk to this naiive man any longer I might go insane. Just before I left the library I turned to him, and smiled.

‘Congratulations, Falena-sama. I sincerely rejoice in the birth of a new sun…surely the future of the kingdom of Sunset Savanna is incredibly bright.’

Without waiting for a response, I slammed the door shut.

No matter how hard I study, no matter how powerful the magic I become capable of commanding, it will never be acknowledged that I am superior to my brother, and I will never become king. Why do I have to endure such thoughts, just because I was born a few years too late? 

Simply because I was born in the wrong order, everything I do is dismissed; nothing is even acknowledged.

Why did I have to be born second? Why will I never get to be first? Why. Why. Why. 

—Life truly is unfair."

(This connects directly to here!)

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Pink Roses [Fake Dating Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Fake Dating situation 1. Two characters pretend to date for some purpose such as social gain, only for real feelings to get involved at some point "Bucky asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend to keep his elderly sister happy. You’re just platonic friends/coworkers, what could possibly go wrong?"

Warnings: Lil’ bit of angst into a happy ending. Reader uses fem pronouns and is referred to as ‘girlfriend’. No use of y/n. Friends to lovers. Reader spends Christmas and Easter with Bucky but doesn’t necessarily celebrate them herself, but they are mentioned.

WC: 7,000 baby!!!! Kicking off the Trope De Sept event strong!

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“Thank you for the flowers by the way, they are beautiful.” Rebecca sighed, playing with the pink petals of the roses in front of her

“Of course Rebecca,” you responded. “Bucky picked them.”

“Oh my, he has good taste. He gets you flowers right?”

“Oh…” her question caught you off guard.

Bucky had merely introduced you by name when you arrived with him to visit his sister for Christmas. You assumed he had warned her he was bringing a coworker, but she seemed to not have gotten the memo and thought your relationship with her brother was something else.

“All the time, Becca. Mom raised me right.” he said, giving you a playful wink as he did

It was a lie, but Rebecca didn’t catch on.

“See I knew my brother was a gentleman. Oh he is so lucky to have you in his life.”

You shot Bucky a curious look and he merely shrugged in response.

The reason you were there with him at all began a few days before, right before Christmas.

“Hey Bucky, just heading out. See you in the New Year!” you said, tying your scarf tightly around your neck, ready to leave the Avengers compound for the two week break from work.

“Hey yeah! Have a good winter break! You got any big plans?” he asked

“No. Keeping it quiet this year.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah I just…I got so sick of my family asking me the same thing and all my cousins flaunting engagement rings, and wedding plans, and ultrasounds, that I just don’t even bother going home for holidays anymore.”

“Oh yeah, I get it. You should meet my sister. I’m going to see her on Christmas and all she does is worry about me. She’s convinced I’m unhappy because I’m single. She literally tries to set me up with every new nurse they hire at her nursing home and I just know most of the Christmas dinner conversation is going to be asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”

“Oh gosh that sounds fun.” you said with a chuckle

“Hey if you don’t have any big Christmas plans, would you want to come with me? My sister loves company and we can even get takeout afterwards. You know, just so you don’t have to spend Christmas alone?”

“Bucky, that’s very sweet of you. I’d love to. Your sister sounds amazing. I can't wait to meet her.”

“Great. Yeah Rebecca’s a fun time. She’s 98 and still smart as a whip. You’ll love her!”

“Okay sounds like a plan.”

The Crown Heights Senior Living Center knew how to throw a Christmas party, with Rebecca Barnes leading the charge on the caroling group and Bucky helping her coordinate the gift exchange.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a fun time, with a group of octogenarians no less.

“Wow Rebecca! How did Bucky keep a pet racoon in the attic for a whole week without your mother noticing?”

“Well that old Brownstone we lived in was solid. They don’t build them like that anymore. The walls were so thick it took her a while to figure out where the scratching noises were coming from.”

“Yeah well she also got suspicious when I swiped an extra serving of her meatloaf and ran upstairs with it right after dinner.” Bucky chimed in

“Speaking of, Becs they’ll be serving your dinner soon and we’re getting hungry too.” Bucky said, standing and giving his sister a kiss on the forehead

“Darling, it was lovely to meet you.” Rebecca said to you, then turned to her brother “James, please bring your girlfriend around more often, she’s a treat.”

You and Bucky smiled at her and departed the room, making your way down the tinsel decorated hall.

“Awe, she thinks I’m your girlfriend!” you teasingly commented, playfully smacking his arm

“Yeah well, literally every time I visit, she’s trying to set me up with a new nurse they’ve hired and she’s always asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“Now when I come back to visit next week, she’s gonna ask about you and I’m gonna have to break her heart and tell her I’m still alone and destitute. I…” Bucky trailed off

“What?”

“It’s a dumb idea.”

“What is?”

“What if we… look this might be crazy but. Would you want to, you know, pretend to be my girlfriend? Just come with me to the nursing home every once in a while on like holidays and things? Just to keep my sister happy. I mean she’s 98 years old, there’s not a lot left going on in her life and I’ve literally never seen her more excited.”

“Okay. This is either going to go really well or really poorly. Either way I wanna see it. So yeah. Let’s do it.”

You saw Bucky at work nearly everyday in the New Year, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk like all coworkers do. At the beginning of February, he brought up his sister again, mentioning that she asked about you and asking if you’d like to join him to visit her again on Valentine's Day. You agreed.

Bucky gave your front door three knocks and you swung it open to greet him, still fiddling with the clasp on your necklace as you got ready.

“Hey, I’ll be ready in a few.” you said as he entered your apartment, stopping in your tracks as you noticed the bouquet he held in his metal arm.

Pink roses, just like the one’s he’d brought Rebecca at Christmas.

“Oh these are for you.” he said, noticing your gaze traveling to them

“For me? But…”

“Don’t worry I have another bouquet for Becca.” he said, pulling an identical bouquet from behind his back “But at Christmas I told her I got you flowers all the time, so I figured I actually should, you know, not be a liar.”

“Not be a… Bucky, we are quite literally about to go see her and lie to her a bunch! You know, about us.” you gestured between the two of you

Bucky laughed and shook his head.

“Fair, but why lie about one more thing? And besides, I think I owe you more than just a thank you for doing all this.”

“Fair.” you said, mimicking his tone and taking the bouquet from him

As you filled a glass vase in the sink and placed the roses in it, Bucky stepped behind you, grabbing the necklace from where you had placed it on the counter and wordlessly fastened it around your neck.

A chill ran down your spine as his fingers fiddled with the clasp, finally connecting it with the hook and pressing his palm against the back of your neck to lay it flat.

“Now I know you aren’t just spending such a romantic holiday just visiting an old lady. What are your plans? James, how are you romancing your lady today?”

You and Bucky looked at each other nervously. You hadn’t really discussed backstory or any other thing she might want to know about your relationship.

“I’ll tell you later Rebecca, don’t want to ruin any surprises!” Bucky finally spoke up, and you made a point to reach for his right hand, intertwining your fingers with his like any couple might and put on an excited look on your face for the non-existent Valentines plans. His palm was warm as he rubbed his thumb in delicate circles around your hand.

“Oh good! Well don’t let me keep you kids too long!” she exclaimed, shooing you out the door of her room

“Okay we really need to discuss more backstory and stuff before we come here. She’s asking too many questions.” he commented as you walked down the hall

“Bucky, maybe this is a bad idea. Your sister is so sweet and I feel bad lying to her like this.”

“Hey, look, she's happy because she thinks I’m happy. We can call this off if you want, but I really think it’d break her heart if I tell her we broke up. Please, just a few more visits? Just so she doesn’t think I’m totally alone.”

“But you are.”

Bucky shot you a look that you’d only ever seen when Sam got on his nerves.

You gnawed at your bottom lip and gave it some thought, Bucky’s blue eyes staring you down. “Okay. But we need to come up with more of a back story. Let’s go grab a cup of coffee and set some ground rules?”

“It’s a date.”

Your eyes went wide at the word date.

“Sorry. It’s a ‘platonic coworkers pretending to date’ not-date.” he said with a grin

“Fine, but you’re buying.”

“It’s Valentine's Day, it'd be absolutely ungentlemanly of me to not.”

The coffee shop around the corner was decorated for the occasion, with heart-shaped foil garland cascading from the ceiling and a cupid chalk drawing taking up a large portion of the menu board.

The barista topped your hot chocolate’s whipped cream with red and pink sprinkles and Bucky chuckled at the foam heart she drew into the top of his latte.

Every other table seemed to be occupied by couples, all looking gooey-eyed at each other and whispering sweet nothings across the small marble tables.

You were so busy taking in all the displays of love that Bucky had to clear his throat to get your attention, arms stretched out behind you reaching for your coat.

“Oh gosh sorry.” you said, shrugging out of it as he placed it on the hook on the wall and then pulled the wooden chair out for you to sit.

“Shit, your sister is right, you are a good boyfriend.” you said

Bucky rolled his eyes with a smirk and took his seat across from you.

“Okay.” you said, placing your palms on the table in front of you “ground rules.”

“Right, if you want to add a third to the bedroom, it has to be Sam. We made a pact a while back, it’s a long story but sorry it’s the only way...”

“Bucky!”

“Shit doll, sorry! I was kidding! I mean kind of, Sam and I did sort of agree…”

“Bucky!” you cut him off “Look if you don’t want to take this seriously, then fine I can just go and call it here. This is for you and your sister after all.”

“No, dammit I’m sorry, you’re right. Okay, go ahead.” Bucky replied

“Well we need to establish a backstory. And know a little more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious.”

“Okay. You go first. Ask anything you want to know about me.”

“Okay um. What’s your favorite color?”

“Really? You think what’s gonna make us not believable is whether or not you know my favorite color?” he looked at you in disbelief

“I don’t know! What else do couples know about each other?”

“Not sure. I haven’t dated regularly since 1943. It’s blue, by the way. What’s yours?” He responded

“Purple. Is that your usual coffee order?”

“In the winter, yes. In summer, I go for iced coffee.”

“Okay. Um. I guess it might be more important to have some facts about us. As a couple.”

“Right. Like what?”

“Well like where was our first kiss? Or our first date?” you asked

“In Central Park under the Cherry Blossoms. I’m romantic like that.”

“Bucky you told her we just started dating in the fall…”

“Fine, in Central Park under the orange leaves.”

“Who said I love you first?”

“You, obviously” he replied

That made you roll your eyes “Why is it obviously me?”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy to be open with his feelings?”

“No, you're the quietest on the team. It took four months of me working with the Avengers for you to return my good morning greeting everyday with even a nod of acknowledgement.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows as if to say “see I’m right”

“Fine. What’s the most romantic thing you've ever done for me?”

“Decorated your Christmas tree while you were at work.”

“I didn’t have a Christmas tree.”

“Well since all of this is pretend, let’s pretend you did.”

“Fine. While we’re on the subject, what did we get each other for the holidays?”

“I got you that necklace.” he nodded in your direction to the string of delicate pearls he helped you put on earlier. In reality, it’d been a gift you got yourself for your most recent birthday, but you were fine with the alternate story.

“Fine. I guess I got you a Frank Sinatra album for your record player.”

“How’d you know I have a record player?”

“Lucky guess.”

“Is it because I’m old?”

“I mean, yeah maybe…”

He sat back in his chair, looking thoroughly unamused.

“Since I know she’s going to ask next time you see her, what did you do to woo me on Valentine’s Day?” you asked

“Took you to a coffee shop and got you pink roses.” he gestured at the cafe around you, a proud smile on his face

“You know what, it’s actually the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” you said with a grin

“See, I am good at this boyfriend thing. What else should we know?”

“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” you asked

“Trick question, neither. I sleep on the floor because of my nightmares.”

“Bucky thats…” you trailed off

“Hey, it's something my girlfriend would know.” Bucky said so casually, as if he had not opened up to you and revealed something incredibly sad and personal about himself.

“Right. Um… what else do you and Rebecca talk about? That way you can think of things to weave into conversation about us that make us seem real.”

“Honestly, we talk a lot about our childhood. She helps me remember a lot of things I’ve forgot thanks to the, ya know” he pointed to his head

You nodded in understanding.

“Anyway, like last week she told me a story I’d totally forgotten about the time Steve and I snuck into the movies and when we got caught, we pretended we didn’t speak English to avoid getting in trouble.”

You listened as Bucky shared more stories about his life in the 30s and 40s, eventually laughing so much and talking so long, the cafe employees had to ask you to leave so they could close up for the evening.

He rode the subway with you to your stop and even walked you to your door as if he were really your Valentine’s date. You felt much better about seeing Rebecca again, confident now that you and Bucky could convincably appear as a real couple after today.

By the time Easter rolled around, you’d established a solid back story and even hung out with Bucky a few times outside of your work relationship to get to know each other better. You always loved every visit with his sister and hanging out with him felt easy.

You were, however, very nervous when Mother’s Day came. You’d finally be meeting Rebecca’s children and grandchildren, all of whom loved their Uncle Bucky, but loved Rebecca even more.

“You seem nervous.” Bucky commented

You had been silent but fidgety the whole subway ride from your apartment to the nursing home. Bucky, of course, picked you up at your front door every time you met, even though it was out of his way from his place to the nursing home.

“I am.” you replied

“Why? Becs loves you. She’s excited to see you again.”

“Yes but I’m meeting everyone else and it’s making me anxious.”

“Why?”

“Because they love you and your sister a lot. I want them to like me”

“I like you so they'll like you.”

“Bucky, you’re only pretending to like me! I love your sister, but it feels a lot easier to trick one old lady than to trick a bunch of people at once into believing we’re real!”

“Okay. First, I do like you. I promise, that part is not pretend.” You know he just meant it platonically, but it still made you blush.

“Secondly,” he continued “Rebecca is the sharpest person I know, so if she’s convinced, then they will be too.”

“I’m still worried they’re gonna find out and kill me.”

“Hey” he reassured “They won’t find out and they won’t kill you and even if they try, like they’re gonna get past me.” he wiggled his metal fingers in your face.

“She hasn’t said anything right? Like she isn’t getting suspicious?”

“Doll, take a chill pill. Even if she figures it out, it’s on me not you. I’m her brother, remember?”

“I know but Bucky she’s been so sweet and nice to me and I adore her and I don’t want to let her down!”

“You won’t, now just relax.”

Rebecca’s son, Scott, had prepared a fabulous meal and as you all sat around a table in the community room of the nursing home eating, her daughter Kim gave a beautiful speech about how Rebecca taught her to be a great mom and how loved she was by the family.

Tears sprung to your eyes at just how loved and revered this woman was and how lucky you felt to know her, even if it was under the false pretense of being her brother’s girlfriend.

Bucky noticed you getting emotional and placed an arm around your back, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his hand in comfort as Kim continued to speak. You shot him a look of thanks and winked at him as you saw tears welling behind his eyes as well.

After dinner had been cleared and dessert had been served, you were locked in a pleasant conversation with Bucky’s grandniece Jenny.

“I don’t know, maybe I should change my major…”

“Well, you’re young. Lots of people take years to figure it out.” you replied

“Uh oh.” she exclaimed, pointing toward the door “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

Bucky was standing in the hall, deep in conversation with one of the nurses, who was throwing her head back in fits of laughter at whatever he was saying to her, and playfully touching his arm.

“Well, you know Bucky, he’s just… friendly.” you shrugged it off, trying to not let the interaction bother you

Jenny gave you a quizzical look, knowing that was a bold-faced lie and Bucky was the most surly and quiet person either of you had ever met. Except around you and Rebecca, of course.

“So tell me more about your thesis,” you said, directing the conversation back and hoping to distract yourself from whatever it was Bucky was doing

The subway ride back to your apartment was mostly silent, which wasn’t abnormal for him, except all you could think about was the way that nurse was with him, and more importantly, how he was with her. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, how he had leaned into her touch everytime she placed a hand on his arm, how they had talked nearly the whole afternoon.

“So David told me he and Shelby are expecting.” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence

“David and …? Oh yeah, Scott’s oldest.” you said, still mentally trying to keep all of Bucky’s nieces, nephews, and their kids straight in your mind, having just met all of them in one go today.

“Yeah. Which means Rebecca is going to be a great-grandmother.” he continued

“Oh my gosh that’s right! That’s so great! Did they tell her?”

“Yeah. She was pretty excited. Then of course, she asked me when you and I are going to start…” he said

“Oh yeah? What did you say to her?”

“Told her we’d get to it eventually. That we were still enjoying being young and in love.”

“Bucky, you’re 106…”

A smile formed across his face and he shook his head.

“You know what I meant!”

“Well we’ll never fictitiously get around to it if you for-real flirt with nurses.” you snidely commented

“Ohhh not my pretend girlfriend pretending to be jealous!” he joked back

“I’m not jealous, Bucky, I’m just trying to keep up appearances. But I don’t blame you, she was cute.”

“Yeah she was.”

“Okay serious question, what if one of us gets into a real relationship?” you asked

“Why are you planning to?”

“No, I mean I wouldn’t complain, but I don’t exactly have any great prospects right now.”

“I don’t either.”

“Um, that nurse was absolutely a prospect.” you argued back

“Doll, will you drop it with the nurse already?”

“No. Look, if you want to be for-real happy and quit lying to your sister, I think you should ask the nurse out. This has been fun, but don’t let us pretending to date hold you back from an actual relationship.”

Bucky sighed and hung his head.

“Okay. When I visit Rebecca this week, I will ask the nurse out. Just to get you off my back about it.” he conceded

“Well just be sure to add in the fact that you have prospects lined up when you tell your sister we broke up, just to soften the blow.” you joked

“Wow, you make it sound like I have women out the door, just waiting in line for me.” Bucky joked

You could if you wanted, you’re a fucking catch, is what you wanted to say, but instead just chose to lightly chuckle at Bucky’s joke.

“I think I will wait and see if the nurse says yes and if she does, see how the date goes before breaking it to my sister. And if it goes bad, at least I still have you.”

“Wow, make a girl feel more special to be your backup plan, why don’t you?” you joked

“You know what I mean! Wait, you will still keep this up for me if the nurse says no right?”

You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve actually really been having fun spending time with your sister.”

And you, you wanted to add, but again, didn't.

“But I do want you to be happy, so I will sacrifice hanging out with the coolest 98 year old I’ve ever met if it means you get a for-real girlfriend and stop being a grumpy, lonely old man.”

“Thanks doll, you’re the best.”

Things at work got hectic that week and you didn’t see Bucky until midway through the next week.

You were sitting at your computer, combing some case files when Bucky snuck up behind you.

“So things got complicated…”

“Jesus, Bucky, don’t scare me like that!” you said, practically jumping out of your seat when he spoke

“Sorry!”

“Wait, complicated how?”

“Well I asked the nurse out. And she said yes. And apparently it was the hot topic in the nursing home all weekend. And my sister asked why I was two-timing you. So I had to tell her we broke up.”

Your heart sank at the thought of not hanging out with Bucky and Rebecca anymore.

“Okay. Well, we knew that might have to happen. And the nurse?”

“Her name is Maddie, by the way. And we went out last night.”

“And?”

“It went well. She was nice and it was fun and we’re going to go out again this weekend.”

“Bucky, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” you replied, trying to truly mean it and push your own feelings towards the situation aside.

But your mind just raced with worry about how well it actually went. Did he mean it went well like it was an agreeable evening and they talked a few hours and went their separate ways? Or did he mean it went well like she got to find out if his lips were as soft as they actually look? It went well like they hooked up and had steamy sex and she got to feel how his toned muscles felt under her hands while he brought her to ecstasy the way you’d always imagined and … no. You needed to stop. It was a bad idea to think about him that way. Especially since he now belonged to someone else, and never really belonged to you in the first place.

“Doll, I really can’t thank you enough.” Bucky spoke and broke you out of your spiraling thoughts “Rebecca had so much fun with you and you know… I think pretending to date you might have actually given me the confidence to ask Maddie out. Don’t know if I thought I could be a good real boyfriend without being a good fake one first.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Well I’m happy to have helped. And by the way, yeah you were a phenomenal fake boyfriend. Better than most of the real ones I’ve had.”

You tried not to let the tears come to your eyes that you could feel brimming to the surface. You were just sad to say goodbye to Rebecca, that’s all. She was so special and spending time with her was a gift. It helped that Bucky was also so charming and funny, but it was absolutely just about Rebecca. Afterall, you’d still get to see Bucky at work. You wouldn’t really talk as in-depth as when you were with his sister and hanging out in service of keeping up the lie, but it would be fine.

However, much to your disappointment, it seemed like after that conversation, Bucky avoided you like you two had actually been a couple and actually broken up. He wouldn’t look you in the eye during mission briefings, wouldn’t say more than two words to you and they were always related to work, and if he ever found himself alone in a room with you, he quickly found an excuse to leave.

It had been about two months since you had “broken up” and you had given up hope of even having any sort of friendship with Bucky. But the truth was, you missed him. You missed making fun of him when he made a reference so outdated, historians wouldn’t even get it. You missed the way his smile rose more on his right side when you’d crack a joke. You missed when he’d sing along to one of Rebecca’s records and try to dance with both you and her at the same time, inevitably spinning you into each other and ending in the three of you in a fit of giggles.

You tried not to think of it though, threw yourself into work and tried to forget. But you couldn’t. Everything reminded you of him.

And you tried not to think about how much you missed him as you watched him walk onto the ramp of a quinjet, prepping to take off for a ten day mission to take down a Hydra base in Latvia.

Six days later, you were in your apartment, making your evening cup of tea when your phone rang.

You picked it up and put it down three times before finally processing that it was Bucky’s name popping up on the screen. With the time zone difference, it had to at least be three in the morning where he was.

“Bucky?” you finally answered “Is everything okay?”

“No. Doll, it’s not.”

“What happened? Are you okay? Is Sam okay? Did something go wrong?” you panicked, knowing of all the hundreds of people the Avengers employed, you were not the person to call if something went wrong with the mission.

“No, it’s Rebecca. She um…” Bucky sounded on the verge of crying and your heart broke in an instant “Kim called and Rebecca is in the hospital. I didn’t get all the details, but it’s not good.”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry.”

“Listen, I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but can you please… Can I ask you to go for me? Go see her? Sam and I are trying to wrap up as quick as we can, but I just can’t bear the thought of not being there with her and she loved you so much and I know you being there would really mean a lot to both of us.”

You had never heard Bucky ramble like that before. His voice was shaky and unsure and it broke your heart.

“Okay. Of course I can go.” you replied without hesitation. You loved Rebecca too, of course you wanted to be with her.

“Thank you. So much. Really. I’ll text you the room number and the hospital. I’ll let Kim and Scott know you’re coming too.”

“Okay.”

“And um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how it’s been lately.”

“Bucky, It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. But um, we can talk more when I get back.”

“Okay. I’ll go see her now, just text me.”

You were pulling on your shoes already when Bucky’s text came through. You were out the door and to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.

Kim greeted you with a big hug when you arrived.

“Oh, she’ll be so excited to see you!” Kim said, leading you down the hall of the hospital towards Rebecca’s room “You know, she still talks about you all the time even though you two broke up a while ago.”

You tried to bite back a smile, not wanting to feel happy in such a grim situation. But knowing at least Rebecca missed your presence and made sure Bucky didn’t forget you lightened your mood just a little.

Any hint of a grin was knocked off your face as soon as you stepped in the room. Rebecca was looking quite different from when you last saw her. Usually so healthy and spry for her age, she looked frail in the thin hospital gown, laying limply in the bed in the middle of the sterile room. Her gray curls were not in their usual coiff, but unkempt and wild. Her eyes looked sallow and dull. But her beautiful smile still came through when she saw you walk into the room.

“Oh my dear!” she reached out a shaky hand toward you. “It is so good to see you!”

Her hand wrapped around yours and she patted it a few times.

“How have you been? Oh, I’ve missed you! You know I was just saying to James the other day, it was a shame he let such a gem like you go.”

“Rebecca, that’s very kind, but how are you? Are you resting? Are you feeling better?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I was fine, but the nurses at the home, they called an ambulance and made me come here!”

“Mom, you passed out and your heartbeat was at 22 bpms!” Kim interjected

Rebecca waved her hand, then turned back to you.

“Where is James? Did you come with him?” she asked

“No. He’s away on a mission, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. He asked me to come see you until he could get here.”

“Oh that’s so kind of you. You know, he really loved you. I could see it every time he looked at you and every time I’d ask about you he’d talk and talk. I told him to hold on to you, but, well my brother never wants to listen to me!”

“Mom!” Kim interrupted again and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Even in this state, Rebecca’s personality was still shining through.

You caught up a little more, filling Rebecca and Kim in on your life since you last saw them.

Finally, Rebecca’s eyes kept closing mid-sentence and you and Kim left her to get more rest.

As you and Kim walked down the hall of the hospital together, she filled you in more on Rebecca’s health and explained that Scott and Jenny were also taking shifts visiting, currently hanging out in the waiting room down the hall.

“Sweetie, it’s getting late, let me give you some money so you can get a cab home.”

“No, Kim, I’ll stay here with you guys tonight.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Please? Just until Bucky calls again. Maybe by morning we’ll have a better idea of when he’ll be back.”

Kim nodded and gave your arm a light squeeze in thanks.

The waiting room was small and featured dated furniture and peeling wallpaper set under the glow of harsh fluorescent lights. Scott was asleep, curled in an uncomfortable position in a chair in the corner. Jenny flashed you a tired smile as you entered. You sat on one of the worn couches and laid your head back, attempting to drift off into sleep.

The night was rather restless, dozing in and out, but never really getting pulled into sleep fully. Between the buzz of hospital employees rushing about, the cramped sleeping arrangement, and the worry chewing in the pit of your stomach about both Rebecca and Bucky, it was far too difficult to get solid rest.

Would Rebecca be okay? How would Bucky act towards you when he got back? Would things go back to being friendly between you as a thanks for being there for his family or would he simply continue to ignore you and act as though this also didn’t happen?

You must have finally gotten to sleep, because you were pulled out of slumber by a metal hand squeezing yours and a soft calling of your name by a familiar voice.

Your eyes shot open to find Bucky, crouched down in front of you, face meeting yours as he gently woke you. Despite the exhaustion painted on his face, he was a radiant light in the otherwise dim environment.

“Bucky!” you sat upright and pulled him into a tight hug

“Hey Doll.” he said, squeezing you so tightly you thought you’d burst like a can of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.

“How did the mission go? When did you get back? Have you been in to see your sister yet?” you asked

Bucky shook his head.

“We can talk about the mission later. Thank you so much for being here.”

“How is Rebecca?” you asked

“I… um. I don’t know. I just got here and came to see you guys first.” he nodded toward the sleeping forms around you.

“You should go see her. Hopefully she got plenty of rest over night.”

Bucky shook his head some more.

“I don’t know if I can… she’s the last thing I have of my old life. I don’t know if I can bear to see her like that.”

“Bucky, she needs you. She wants to see you, she asked where you were last night.”

Bucky sighed, wetness welling in his worn blue eyes.

“I’ll go with you.” you volunteered

“Doll, you’ve already done so much. I can’t ask another thing of you.”

“Please, Bucky, I want to be there for you. And for her.”

He nodded and took your hand in his flesh one, helping you off the couch and not letting go as you walked down the hall together towards Rebecca's room.

She was sitting upright in bed and her face lit up at the sight of you and her brother, nearly spilling the applesauce the nurses brought her for breakfast into her lap.

Bucky finally let go of your hand, giving his sister a hug much more gentle than the one he gave you.

“Oh James, you know you didn’t have to rush away from work just to come see me!”

“Becca, yes I did!” he smiled

“Well, your girlfriend had things covered here.” she gestured towards you

“Oh, Becs no, we’re not back together.” Bucky explained

“Oh? But why not?” Rebecca asked

“It's not important right now. What’s important right now is getting you healthy.”

Rebecca smiled and shook her head.

“James, it is important right now. I’ve lived a lot of years and I’ve learned the most important thing in life is holding the ones you love close to you. I learned that when my big brother ‘died’ at war. I learned that when my children grew up too fast and moved away. I learned that with every grandchild born and held in my arms. And I learned that when you came back into my life after so many years.”

“Rebecca…” Bucky spoke, but she held up her hand to cut him off.

“I don’t know why you two broke up or what happened. But what I do know is how much the two of you clearly love each other. Look, James, I’m old. I know I don’t have much time left. But you, you have a life to live still and running away from the good things is not what your baby sister wants for you.”

“Rebecca, this is a conversation for her and I and another time.” Bucky argued

“You know for being my older brother, you sure aren’t wiser than me.”

“Wow, even sick in the hospital, still trying the younger sibling thing.” Bucky joked back

A knock at the door took the three of you from the conversation as a cheery nurse stepped inside the room.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to run a few tests the doctor ordered. It’ll only take a little while.” he explained.

Bucky sighed and gave his sister a kiss on her temple, then gestured for you to step out with him.

Once in the hall he finally broke down completely, the stress of the past few days catching up to him.

You cradled his head in your arms as he sobbed, knowing the longer the two of you stayed like this, the longer you could put off having a conversation.

“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, finally calm enough to stand and wipe the tears from his eyes

You nodded and took his hand again, leading him out to the front of the hospital into the sunshine.

A few open benches along the sidewalk provided a place for the two of you to sit. Still, it took a few minutes for Bucky to finally speak up.

“I’m sorry I let it get like this between us.” Bucky mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Bucky, please. We don’t have to do this right now. You should be worrying about your sister, not me.”

“No, Doll, Rebecca’s right.”

“Yeah?”

“About everything.” he nodded his head “About life. About us. But don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”

You giggled.

“I wanted it to be real. Not at first, but after a while. When she tells you a story about us as kids and you smile at me the way you do. Or when your eyes light up when I make up a lie about the latest romantic thing I did. I wanted it all to be real. And I still do.”

“I wanted it to be real too.” you confessed “But if you wanted that, then why did you not just ask me out for real instead of Maddie?”

“Because, like Rebecca said, I was running away from the good things. I was scared that after everything I’ve been through, no one would stick around knowing all of that about me. But then you did, and it scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t sure if I was reading it all wrong. Asked Maddie out as an excuse to push you away. I thought maybe avoiding you would make me get over it, but it didn’t, it just made me miss you.”

“And Maddie?”

“We went on a few dates and it was fun, but of course, I kept her at a distance. Didn’t want to let her in like I did with you. So she broke it off with me after a while.”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“You know, the leaves in Central Park aren’t quite orange yet, but it’s still a nice time of year for a first date there.”

“Yeah. It is. For real this time?”

“For real this time.” you agreed “But let’s worry about getting Rebecca healthy first.”

“I bet if we go up and tell her we’re back together, she’ll run out of that room and steal a cab just to make sure we make it to Central Park today.” he joked

You softly pressed your lips against his, feeling him melt into your kiss as the tension between the two of you these last few months finally evaporated.

When you finally pulled apart, you realized now you were the one crying, relieved that things between the two of you worked out.

Rebecca was released from the hospital a few days later, new medication bringing her health back into balance and making her as vivacious as ever. She was even well enough to join you and Bucky in Central Park for your 8th date, though she didn’t know that, as you and Bucky decided it was best not to tell her about the lie even now. And of course, when Bucky and Rebecca stepped out of the cab on 5th Avenue, he held two bouquets of pink roses in his hands.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Part 6

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader

Themes: Soft

Warnings: Mention of Elwing casting herself into the sea prior to the beginning of the story | Mentions of other character deaths prior to the beginning of the story

Wordcount : 3.1K words

Summary: Thranduil attends the feast held in honor of Angon taking Nitiel to wife.

Minors DNI

Masterlist

Thranduil’s POV

The feast Lord Thiliedir and Lady Annien held in honor of their son taking Nitiel to wife was a most splendid affair. 

Guests came from all over Amon Lanc. They poured through wide open doors leading to a vast garden, dressed in their finest furs and silks. Gold and silver, rubies and emeralds, glittered around the throats and lips and ears and wrists of many. Newly forged circlets rested amidst dark, crimson, and silver-gold hair that had been combed into intricate braids. Some of the visitors bore the marks of beasts and leaves and flowers along their arms and along their cheeks. Heralds called out the names of each new visitor, and attendants walked amidst the invited elves, their hands heavy with gilded pitchers full of wine and trays full of delicate pastries. Thranduil stood by his father’s side, observing lords and ladies joining an ever-growing line of those wishing to offer their felicitations to the newly wedded pair.  

“The marriage of Lord Angon and his lady has been well received.” Oropher nursed his chalice of wine, while minstrels kept to the grotto set aside for their use during the festivities. The music they played and the songs they sang drifted around the garden, barely heard over the chatter of elves and the clinking of glass. “I confess, I expected to hear and see quite the opposite when I was told the news.” 

“Were you hoping to witness the tearing of hair and the gnashing of teeth?” Thranduil whispered. He sipped his wine and then smiled. “Lord Angon’s lady mother and lord father are too well bred for such theatrics. So are their kin. If they truly are unhappy with their son taking a servant to wife, then they have taken great care not to show it.” 

“You are studying those who serve us,” said Oropher. “That is a good thing, my son. Continue it. It will serve you well should my crown pass on to you.” 

Thranduil shivered. His lord father’s demise was not a matter he wished to consider. “It will not happen,” he replied, “for you will live on for more ages than you could care to count, and then we will both take a ship leaving for the Blessed Realm so that we can be reunited with my mother.”

“That is my hope also,” his father returned. “But so long as Belegûr’s servants remain abroad, we must prepare ourselves for the dark possibility of my perishing in this land. Do you understand me, my son?” 

“Yes, father,” Thranduil told him, albeit reluctantly. 

Oropher clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Enough of such talk. Come! Let us join the throng!”  

The throng had grown in size by the time they joined them, and they had grown more carefree despite the late autumn chill. Golden lamps adorned the low-hanging branches of trees, their light limning all those who stood beneath them. Trestle tables had been arranged at the far end of the garden, with a raised dais facing them. Kitchen attendants were occupied slowly turning wooden spits and roasting wild boar and deer over a fire pit, basting the meat with honey and herbs until it crackled. The smell of freshly baked bread and pies wafted from the nearby kitchen. Even the tables themselves had large bowls placed in the center, all filled with wild berries, cheese, and olives brought in from Esgaroth. More wine was served, along with ale and mead. Thranduil joined his father while he spoke to the others, taking great care to listen to all that was being said and answering any question that was asked of him. 

It was an aspect Thranduil had long prepared himself for: the tediousness of everyday duties. He had to attend council meetings even when he wished to do nothing more than lay in bed; he had to hear out supplicants that came to him, begging for a listening ear; and he had to speak to elven nobles he had no desire to speak to, all while having a warm smile or a look of deep concern on his face. All of this he did splendidly well, which pleased his father greatly.  

“Now all you need is a bride who might one day make a fine queen,” Oropher said when they had a moment to themselves again. “Someone worthy of you, and of course, someone worthy of the crown that would rest amidst her hair.”  

‘Tis the same song as always, Thranduil thought. He forced himself not to sigh. “I will wed when my own household is ready, father,” he said through gritted teeth, and he set his jaw in determination. “And I will decide for myself whom I should marry. Me, father, and no other. Any command for me to bind myself to a stranger in a marriage of political convenience will be answered with a swift and certain no.” 

“I swear to Eru, my boy, you can be as stubborn as your beloved mother sometimes.” Oropher laughed. “And I understand the need to wait until your household is ready to receive a mistress. Pray tell me what is becoming of the halls our builders are making for you.” 

They spoke at length while they made their way to the dais. Angon and Nitiel had already taken the seats of high honor, and the king and the crown prince took their places on either side of them. Then the mother and father of Angon, and the mother and father of Nitiel, took their seats accordingly.  

Angon only waited a moment before rising, his cup in hand. “Let us drink!” He cried. “A toast, my friends! To Lady Nitiel! My wife and the companion of my life!”  

The others rose and lifted their cups. “Lady Nitiel!” They shouted as one. Nitiel flushed, and she bowed her head as a gesture of thanks.  

The first course was a dish of soup made of leeks and mushrooms, served in glazed green bowls. Lady Annien took the first spoonful to taste, and the others were served after she gave her approval. 

Lady Nitiel looks so different now, Thranduil thought. The lady who once served in the kitchens was dressed in robes sewn especially for the feast, and with colors that matched those on her husband’s tunic. Green velvet slashed with cloth of gold adorned her person. New gold caught the light of nearby lamps as they lay around her throat and around her wrists. More gold gleamed where it lay in her auburn hair. It had been combed into elaborate plaits and then arranged in a style he did not recognize.  

The gold and the robes must be gifts, no doubt, Thranduil thought, from her doting husband. The way her hair has been arranged, on the other hand…

“Forgive me,” he leaned in and said, “for asking this, but who arranged your hair?” 

Nitiel leaned in as well and lowered her voice. She did not wish for the king to hear what she had to say. “Y/n, my lord,” she said. “She helped me dress, and then she arranged my hair for me. It is the style favored by those who dwelled in a city called Alqualondë, she said, but without the adornments of shells and pearls.” 

Thranduil knew of Alqualondë, having heard the tales told by Lady Galadriel. “The style favored by the elves of Alqualondë?” he whispered, “and not the kind favored by her own people?” 

“She thought the sight of it might anger the king.”     

“Of course. It was wise of her to make such a choice. And it was thoughtful of her as well, to help you prepare for this feast.” 

The next course was a dish of sage and potato tarts, and the course that came after that was a dish of roasted boar and venison with stewed carrots and potatoes that had been boiled to a mash and mixed with cream. Thranduil ate with great relish, and he ate in silence.  

Y/n would have had to have learned the art of such arrangements from her mother, as she was born long after the first kinslaying. And it would have served her well during the years she spent wandering from one place to the next, perhaps even keeping her safe, as the few who served the sons of Fëanor and remained in the new land they had come to call home found little welcome wherever they went.  

There is the grandson, he remembered. Why did y/n not go to Lord Celebrimbor? 

It was a question he had asked when he first procured her freedom, and it was a question he thought of asking her himself, as those who held her could not give him an answer. Until the opportunity to do so presented itself, he would have to bide his time. 

A minstrel plucked at the strings of a high harp while another sang, her voice as sweet and clear as a bell. It was nowhere as lovely as Tinúviel’s otherworldly voice, Thranduil thought, nor was it as bewitching as her lady mother’s. Still, it was enchanting to hear, and a tear came to his eye when he remembered Menegroth in all of its glory. He harkened back to the days of his youth, when nightingales would make their nests in little nooks and crannies that dotted the great city of many caves, where flowers of rare beauty would bloom to life during the spring, where Daeron played the harp and Tinúviel sang, and they were sheltered from the darkness that tainted the lands beyond their own. Then the sons of Fëanor came to reclaim what was taken from their father, they had said, and to seek justice for the slaying of their grandfather.  

The sons of Fëanor came, Thranduil thought as he drained the last of his wine. The sons of Fëanor fought. And the sons of Fëanor perished. Thranduil set down his chalice when a dish of gammon pie was set before him. And the line of Melian and Thingol nearly ended because of them and that blasted Oath of theirs. 

Grief and bitterness gathered around his heart like a swarm of angry bees. Thranduil still remembered King Dior and his queen, Lady Nimloth. He remembered their sons, twins who were all of three when their father came into his inheritance, and he remembered the dreadful winter that brought about an end to Dior’s reign, the tragic fate that befell his sons, his queen, and the great city of caves they all called home.   

And then there was the daughter, the princess who was forced to abandon her own children as she was once forced to abandon her home, and cast herself into the sea after those who sought the Silmaril came for her. That too angered Thranduil—that swords were raised against those who fled the violence that fell upon their once-fair city. He remembered the dark words that were brought to them on a night with the moon and stars hidden behind thick clouds. Perhaps that was a sign, a portend of the dreadful message they were to receive. His father gave the order for their warriors to march, but by the time they reached the Havens, it was already too late. 

At least Elwing's sons lived, he thought, and I pray word of their living lives of great renown reached her ears in the Blessed Realm.  

He took the pie with both hands and bit into it. The meat melted in his mouth, as did the pastry that held it. And it tasted almost like ash against his tongue. Thoughts of the lives lost because of an Oath that could never be fulfilled tainted whatever joy the prince would have found in the food he ate. He waived away all further offers of refreshments, claiming that he was already full. 

I need to step away for a moment, he told himself, and free myself from such dark and dismal thinking.  

He rose and excused himself. “Pray allow me to take my leave of you all for a moment or two,” he said. “I will return soon enough.” 

“Of course, my lord,” Lady Nitiel said. Thranduil bowed deeply and took his leave of them. 

The air outside the manse was no less fragrant. This time, the smells that greeted him were of night-blooming flowers and not the scents of delectable dishes being brought to the table. He walked toward a nearby marble pond, listening to the little waterfall bubbling at the far end of it. There was no other elf to be seen. Most were at the feast. Others were keeping a watchful eye along the city’s high walls or tending to their duties in the palace itself, and there were those who had already retired for the night. Still, the absence of other elves was a welcomed thing, as was the cool wind that swept around his face and hair. Thranduil felt the anger and grief within him ebb away. He stopped and sat on the edge of the pond. 

Tis good to have a moment to clear my head, he thought. Tiny fish darted beneath the leaves of water lilies and around his fingers as he trailed his hand through crystal-clear water, their scales glittering with silver and gold whenever they caught the light of nearby lamps. He heard the sound of leather against stone. Another elf was walking toward him; the sound he heard was the sound of their slippers falling over polished cobble. Thranduil sighed as his peace was disturbed. Then he heard a gasp. The elf who came upon him did not expect to find him there.  

“Forgive me, my lord,” they said. “I… I was told this part of the city was empty at night.”  

“The one who told you this did not err on that score.” The prince turned to face the one who approached the pond. “This part of the city is quiet at night. And there is no need to ask for forgiveness, y/n. You have the freedom to walk about Amon Lanc; there is no one to hinder you from doing so. Pray why are you here, at such an hour?” 

“We were not needed in the kitchens.” Y/n dipped into a deep curtsy before rising again. “And the cook told me that I would not be needed on the morrow. I… I thought of seeing something of the city while the others were not about, my lord.” 

“Yes,” Thranduil smiled. “Amon Lanc feels like a city found only in fairytales when one walks about it at night. I will not say more, lest I spoil the beauty of the city for you.” He paused and decided now would be an opportune time to speak to y/n about Celebrimbor and why she did not approach him for shelter. “But I do have a question to ask of you.” 

“Go on, my lord,” said y/n. 

“That day when I procured your freedom, I was told you spent your days wandering. You put down no roots, not even with Lord Curufin’s son, Lord Celebrimbor. Why is that, y/n?” 

“Being the daughter of an attainted kinslayer made it hard for me to put down roots, my lord. And Lord Celebrimbor made it plain that anyone who served his father and his uncle would find no welcome in his home.” 

“Is it because of what happened to Lord Finrod?” 

“Yes, my lord. Lord Celebrimbor never forgave his father, nor his uncle, for that matter, for what became of Lord Finrod in the end.”  

“And so you kept away from his realm,” Thranduil said. He patted the space beside him.  

“Yes, my lord.” Y/n smoothed her skirts and sat a respectful distance away from him. Etiquette demanded it, for she was but a kitchen maid and he was the crown prince. “I did not have the stomach to bear the sight of another door closing on me, so I kept away.” 

The crown prince tried to envision what such a life would have been like: walking from place to place without a proper home to claim for oneself, selling what little possessions one had to keep oneself alive, having no friends, no family, and no one to turn to for aid. He shivered.  

Such a wretched life, he thought, and yet the lady is still here, enduring each hardship as best as she can. 

Enduring such hardships without complaint was to be expected of the Noldor; it was something minstrels waxed poetic about in story and song. Thranduil studied y/n discreetly. Her hair had grown a fraction longer, and already she looked less gaunt than she did before. The robes she wore were blue and gray, simple but well-made. A tarnished pin was all she had for an adornment. Its painted flowers had faded, and they were the likes of which Thranduil had not seen before. 

“The flowers on your pin,” he began, “are those found only in the Blessed Realm, yes?”

“Yes.” Y/n reached up and touched it. Her fingers trembled when they brushed against the filigreed silver. “My father had this made for me when I came of age. My mother painted the flowers you see in the center. This is all I have left of them.”

To have only one token left of one’s flesh and blood, and that too in a poor state, pricked at Thranduil. But it could still be saved, he thought. It could still be restored to its former glory.  

Ah, but would the goldsmiths agree to such an undertaking when the request to do so came from one such as her? Thranduil knew they would turn her away the moment they saw her standing at the door of their forge. A respected courtier who carried the order of the crown prince, on the other hand… 

“It must have great value to you.” Thranduil rose. He could not linger for much longer. The others would expect him to return to the feast without further delay. Nevertheless, he did not intend to leave until he spoke to y/n about what he had in mind. “And it can be returned to what it looked like when you first received it. Give it to Feren when you see him next. I will speak to him, and have him go to our goldsmiths. If there is anyone in Amon Lanc who could restore that pin to what it once was, it is them.” 

“I…” Y/n paused and hesitated. She lowered her gaze, took a deep, steadying breath, and then she dared to look him in the eye. A decision had been made. “Thank you, my lord.” 

Thranduil nodded. “And now you must excuse me. I must return to the feast before my father sends someone to search for me.” 

“Of course, my lord.” Y/n rose also, and curtsied to him again. “Good night, my lord.”  

“Good night, y/n,” Thranduil said. He looked back at her over his shoulder for a moment as he walked away. The sight of her beneath a spill of lamplight, her eyes sparkling as she turned to admire the fish in the pond, tugged at him in a way he could not describe.

tags: @deadlymistletoe @coopsgirl @lemonivall @tigereyesf @thranduilseyebrows @cupids-got-me @asianbutnotjapanese @kurochan3

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Sixteen - Make It In Three

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Masterlist

“Against a counter top?”

“Aye, slammed his head right down into it,” you laugh with Jisung.

“The all-mighty Hwang Hyunjin!” he exclaims. 

“The very same.” An easy, pleasant smile crosses your lips.

The two of you have been walking for three days now, making great time. If you do not stop for the night, you both should arrive at Miroh’s Keep sometime around midnight.

By the way the sun was dipping behind the horizon, that was only about five hours away.

“Did he cry?”

“Nay!” You laugh out loud. “His pride was most definitely wounded but he did not cry.”

“Perhaps maybe not when you were watching.”

“I did not even tell you the best part yet,” you say and Jisung turns his head sharply to look at you with an eager expression. “I had vaulted over the counter to kick Camus. He grabbed my ankle and swung me around and threw me into Hyunjin, the two of us collided and hit the wall behind us!”

Jisung breaks out in a high pitched laugh, doubling over and holding his stomach. You have to stop on the road from how hard he’s laughing.

“I cannot believe it!” he wheezes out. “Oh how I wish I was there to see it!”

His laughter is so contagious, your cheeks start to ache from how much you’re smiling. 

While you both were walking along the path, there has not been a moment of silence longer than ten minutes. Jisung always pipes up with a question or comment that fills the air between you both.

It passes the time rather quickly.

In four short days, you’ve learned so much about this man. You know all about his childhood.

Jisung grew up as one of Chan’s best friends. The two of them played together for as long as he can remember. When Chan’s father had died and he was crowned Jarl, Jisung was the first person he asked to be a member of his court.

“It was an easy decision,” he told you. “I now get to live with and serve my best friend.”

“Do you ever feel like you are just his errand boy?”

“If I am honest with you, no. Never once has Chan ever made us feel that way. This does not feel like a job, it feels more like helping him. But it is not one-sided, he does so much for me as well as other members.”

Jisung paused. “Do you feel like an errand girl?”

You thought for a long moment, weighing your words carefully in your mind. “Nay, not anymore.”

He nodded and looked around at the trees that surrounded your path. 

“But it did before?”

“In the beginning, aye. I cannot point out the singular moment when it became less of a job and more of a relationship.”

Jisung bobbed his head and acknowledged your sentence.

“Are you enjoying the heavy pockets of gold, then?”

He finally pulls himself together, wiping the tears of laughter out from the corners of his eyes. 

“I have to travel with you two next time, that is hysterical!”

A hum comes from deep in your throat as your own chuckles fade into the wind.

“Come on, Jisung.” You motion your head towards the road and you both begin to walk again. 

You’re both walking along for fifteen more minutes, easy conversation passing between the two of you before goosebumps suddenly raise on your flesh.

Every single one of your hairs stand on end and it feels like an alarm bell is ringing in the back of your mind.

A large flock of birds suddenly fly away from the trees around you.

You immediately freeze in your tracks and snatch Jisung’s arm.

He gasps at your sudden grab, his body going into alert mode.

Wildly, your eyes look around for any sign of danger. Your head whips around on your neck.

You’re both in the woods, the trees are not too thick in these parts, but they obstruct more of your view than you would like. 

“What is it, Y/N?” Jisung asks, obviously alarmed. 

You turn and look at him and take a quick scan of his body– no weapons. No dagger, no sword, no nothing.

Reaching down, you unsheathe the dagger from your boot and hold it out in his direction.

“Take this.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, eyes wide and alarmed. “What is happening?” His voice goes up an octave.

Grabbing his hand, you thrust the danger into it, curling his finger over the hilt.

“I… I do not know. But I feel as though something is–”

Every muscle in your body screams and you react as fast as you can.

Pushing forward, you throw yourself at Jisung, tackling him to the ground. 

Jisung yelps as his back hits the ground. You had the place of mind to cradle the back of his head to make sure it doesn’t crack into the stone road. 

The distant whizz of an arrow pierces the air and flies over the two of you.

In an instant, you’re back on your feet, ripping your sword from your sheathe.

“Take cover!” you yell at Jisung. He doesn’t move, his body frozen on the ground. “ Now, Jisung! ”

His entire body jolts and he scrambles up to his feet. He runs and hides behind a nearby tree.

Your eyes are still scanning the treeline where the arrow came from, looking for the offender. 

You crossed the border into Miroh last night, who’s shooting at the two of you? 

Another arrow flies past your face, at the last second you move out of the way. It pierces the tree behind you and sticks out of the bark.

“Show yourself, coward!” You call out into the woods.

Nothing.

Reaching behind you, you pull the shield of absorption from your back and strap it to your arm. If arrows are flying from an unknown source, it’s better to be protected.

There’s a stiff, uneasy moment of silence. 

Your sensitive ears are tuned into the environment around you, listening for something, anything that would tell you where the attacker was hiding.

To try and help, you even stop breathing.

Your ears perk up when you hear the distinct sound of an arrow being nocked onto a bow. It’s coming from your left. 

At the last second, you raise your shield up in front of your face just for an arrow to fly right into it.

Your shoes crunch the cobblestone and you take off running in that direction without hesitation. 

When you make it into the specific crop of trees where the arrow came from there’s a loud thud . 

Instinct takes over and you lean backwards.

A sword swings over your body, your eyes stare at the blade as it barely grazes your nose. Once the sword clears your body, you snap back up and swing the shield in the direction the sword came from.

The bash that you deliver has the added bonus of the deflected arrow.

Whoever you hit with the shield grunts in pain and stumbles backwards. 

A long, high pitched whistle sounds through the trees and suddenly there’s more movement than your eyes can parse.

But, you know you need to focus on the enemy directly in front of you.

Once your shield is moved from your vision you immediately recognize the color of their armor, green and black.

Erbus.

Was this a covert team sent to spy on the hold?

Why would they attack two people on the road so suddenly? They could have easily stayed blended into the trees and waited for you both to pass. You knew for certain your ears were hidden underneath your hair.

Why did they do this?

Your hand grips your sword tightly and you lunge at the soldier who was still trying to regain his balance, it pierces right through the side of his breastplate.

He gasps one final time and falls to the ground.

Sliding your sword out of his body you turn quickly and look around you.

How many? How many?

Your heart sinks down to the floor.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

All of them were armed. All of them were angry.

A shaky breath leaves your lips and you look around at your surroundings as they stalk closer to you. One soldier licks his lips. 

Seven. You can do seven. You did ten back at Fort Mire. You can definitely do seven.

Right?

Yes.

The first soldier takes three large steps towards you and swings his ax around and at your head.

Your body drops to the ground and his ax embeds into the bark of the tree directly next to you.

He’s so busy trying to yank his blade out that you take the opening and slice through his body. The ax never leaves the tree but you move onto the rest of the soldiers.

One down. 

You bash the shield into the tree next to you as hard as possible. Once more, the air takes a deep breath around you and the metal hums and vibrates against your arm.

A smirk pulls at your face when you see the soldiers eyeing you curiously.

Digging your boots into the soil for a split moment, you then take off running at one of them

Shock causes his feet to stay in place, his eyes widen and mouth drops open.

You hold the shield in front of you and charge straight at him. Once you’re upon him, you swing the shield as hard as possible.

His body flies away from the blast.

“What the–?” one of his comrades yells.

You turn and spin your body around to gain momentum, you bring your sword up and around down to meet the sword of another soldier.

Your impact against his sword is so powerful that his arm is knocked back and he takes another step backwards to regain his balance.

Staying on the offensive, you swipe at him time and time again, he meets each of your swipes and each time his arm is pushed away from him. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a soldier sprinting up towards you.

At the last moment, you raise the shield up to block his attack.

The shield purrs.

Twirling, your body spins and you slam the shield into the first soldier, hitting him right in the head. There’s a sickening crack that sounds through the trees.

Your own sword twirls in your hand to turn the blade downwards in your hold and you stab backwards, underneath your shield arm, and into the gut of the second soldier.

Three more.

The pommel of the sword twirls in your grip and you push it upwards to arc and catch the throat and underneath of the chin of the next soldier that ran at you.

Blood sprays from the wound and all across your face. If you weren’t in battle mode, surely you would’ve had a bigger reaction. 

No time.

One throws a dagger in your direction, you quickly deflect it with your shield.

It tings off the metal and flies to the side. He grabs another one to throw at you and you charge forward.

In a split second, you drop your sword to the ground and then you grab the shield off your arm and hold it in one hand. Like a discus, you spin and launch it directly at his body.

The shield slams into his skull and ricochets in another direction. 

Violently, your head spins around looking for the last soldier. Where did he go? He was here just a moment ago.

Where? Where?

“ Y/N! ” Jisung’s screech rings through your ears and fear grips your heart.

When your head snaps over in his direction, he’s slowly backing away from the soldier, he’s holding the dagger in front of him like a mini sword.

You don’t think, you just run.

Jisung lets out a choked cry of horror. His eyebrows pinched together and his eyes looked glossy with fearful tears.

His legs are shaking and it looks like his knees might buckle underneath him.

“Knew who you were by that heraldry on the standard hanging on your belt, boy. You’re part of Miroh’s Court, eh? Maybe your head on a spike will send a message to Jarl Bang to call back his dogs.”

The fucking standard. It’s a small version of Miroh’s flag that all of the court members wear on their belts. You chose not to wear yours when fighting against Erbus to not put a target on your back.

Obviously, Jisung had not thought about it.

The Erban soldier raises his sword high above his head and Jisung screams, dropping the dagger and covering his head with his arms. Jisung falls to the ground in terror.

You scream as you tackle the soldier to the ground from the side.

Both of your bodies hit the pavement.

The soldier loses his grip on his sword and it skitters away on the stone. 

With no weapon, you have no choice but to fight dirty.

As soon as you’re able, you scramble up and straddle the soldier’s chest, your fist raises in the air and you bring it down as hard as you can into his jaw.

He grunts as his head snaps to the side. You bring your hand up again and deliver punch after punch. You feel the skin on your knuckles split and start to bleed.

Suddenly, you can’t tell if it's his blood on his face or yours.

A piercing pain shoots through your leg and you let out a startled scream. While you were busy delivering blows to his face, he managed to pull out a dagger and stab it directly into your thigh.

In the split moment you looked down at your leg, he flipped the two of you over.

Grunts and groans of exertion coming from both of you.

What feels like a brick wall comes in contact with your nose and you know immediately by the crunch that it's broken. Blood pours down your face and into your mouth. The familiar metallic taste and smell flooding your senses.

A second blow to your jaw makes your head crack down on the stone. Pain blossoms at the contact and your vision blacks out for a moment.

Another punch, another, another, another. Your vision returns to you but with how fast his punches are coming, you’re not able to gather your wits

The pain is starting to blend into one another.

Suddenly, instead of delivering another punch, both of the soldier's hands wrap tightly around your throat. 

Gasps tear from your body and your feet kick around wildly at the lack of oxygen. You bring your hands up and claw at his skin, ripping large gashes.

Your sore mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for water.

When you meet the eyes of the soldier on top of you, his pupils are blown wide, blood is covering his entire face. His jaw looks crooked, like you dislocated it with one of your blows.

An absolutely evil smile spreads over his face as he watches you squirm around, desperate for air.

Your fingertips begin to go numb and your arms grow cold from the lack of oxygen. The edges of your vision begin to fade.

“Do not think I do not see what you are,” he sneers down to you and then spits right in your face. The soldier leans down close to your face. Blood drips from his face down onto yours. “I wish I could take my time with you, make this last forever.”

A red hot anger ignites within you.

“Wish I could really fucking make you scream, dagger ear. Been so long since I had my dick warmed. But hey, bodies stay warm for a while. I’ll make sure to get back to you once I finish your friend over there.”

As if possessed, strength returns to every one of your limbs. Your eyebrows furrow deep and you grit your teeth and clench your jaw so hard you think your teeth may break. 

You rip the dagger out from your thigh and plunge it right in the side of his neck.

The soldier gapes and his grip around your neck immediately loosens.

Greedily, you gulp air into your system.

You rip the dagger out of neck and slit right across his throat. His body falls off of you and onto the ground, his hands desperately clawing at his neck as he chokes on his own blood.

But you’re not done with him, oh no.

You straddle his chest once more.

Over and over again you plunge the dagger down into his chest, his neck, his abdomen. Guttural screams tear through your throat as you do so.

“Y/N!” You hear Jisung scream, but you can’t stop yourself. Not after what he said to you. 

Hot tears are streaming down your face, making tracks through all the blood covering your skin. But new blood keeps splattering onto you with every downward strike.

“ Y/N! ” Jisung calls again, louder this time.

When you don’t answer, two hands suddenly grab you from under your arms and yank you backwards.

You scream and scream and scream. 

“Please, Y/N! It’s me! Y/N! It’s just me!” 

As if released from a trance, you stop thrashing and let the dagger fall from your hand and clatter to the ground. 

“It’s me, Y/N.” Jisung repeats and keeps a firm grip on you.

Your chest heaves as it takes in air. It feels like you can still feel the soldier's grip on your throat, his thumbs crushing your windpipe.

Swallowing painfully, you look back and up at Jisung. He’s staring at you in horror, his entire body tense. When you turn to him, his hands release you and he jumps backwards a bit.

You look down at the ground, not able to look at his mortified face any longer. Your face screws up in agony and you look around, careful not to look at the body that you just massacred .

“Are you hurt?” you croak out. Your voice is extremely hoarse.

“N-Nay.” Jisung answers.

“Good.”

You continue to catch your breath, your eyes closing.

Behind you, Jisung only stares at your wavering body. 

In and out, air comes through your lungs.

Why can’t you catch your breath?

Something is not right.

Yes, you were just choked out, but you should be able to breathe semi-normally right now.

“J-Jisung.” You choke out. He makes a startled noise in response. “Jisung, something is wrong.”

“What do you mean?” His voice is thick.

“I.. I know not. Something…” Your hand comes up and clutches at your chest. “I cannot…”

Your eyes snap down to your thigh. There is a large hole in the fabric of your pants and blood is oozing from the wound, soaking the cloth completely.

Ignoring the stinging pain, you pull the fabric aside and your stomach flips.

Ugly, purple veins stem from the injury, the blood seems to bubble and burn your skin even further. This blood is tinted black.

���Fuck.” You gasp.

“ What? ” Jisung prods again.

“P… Poison.” You wheeze.

“Posion? Y/N. I… We are so far from the capital, I have… I have nothing on me. What do I do? What are we able to do?”

Your mind is reeling at the same time Jisung’s mouth is. You also have absolutely nothing on you. There are no plants that grow in the area that could be crushed into a salve.

Four hours. You’re four hours from the Keep.

“Jisung. Go grab my weapons please.” Your voice is already so weak.

“Y/N.”

“Now.”

He hesitates one more moment before running off in the direction you came from. Your body turns and you crawl across the stone path towards where Jisung dropped your dagger.

The muscles in your thigh seize for a moment and you groan before it releases again.

The dagger’s pommel sits comfortably in your palm for a moment before you crawl back over to the bloody corpse of a body that you ruined.

You grab the bottom of his tunic that's poking out from under his armor and slice a piece of the fabric off.

Using that strip of fabric, you tie it around your thigh as tightly as possible. 

Each gasp of air you intake sounds like a gasp. No matter how deeply you inhale, it doesn’t seem like enough. 

“Here, here.” Jisung drops to his knees next to you. He has your sword in one hand and the shield in the other.

Weakly, you grab the sword from his hand and sheath it on your belt. 

“Here is what is going to happen, Han Jisung.” The man gives you his undivided attention, you look up at him with determined eyes. “We are going to walk to Miroh’s Keep. We will make it there in three hours, not four.”

“Y/N.” 

Reaching up, you grab a fistful of his shirt and yank it towards you. “We are going to walk to Miroh’s Keep, Jisung.”

He gulps once and nods. Reaching behind him, Jisung secures your shield to his broad shoulders. 

Jisung grabs one of your arms and places it over his shoulders. The other arm wraps around your waist tightly. 

“One… Two… Three!” He stands up with you and you scream in pain. The knee on your injured leg buckles but he holds you stead to him. The hand on your waist keeps you firmly to his side.

Blood has already soaked through your bandage.

“Three hours is nothing,” you grit through your teeth.

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

After two hours your brain is completely out of it. When you take a step, it’s like your bones are made of jelly and your body flops along with it.

Jisung has not stopped talking for a moment, trying to keep your attention on him. 

The two of you have had to stop several times for you to fall to your knees and vomit on the side of the road. 

But each time, you get up, wipe your mouth, and continue down the road. 

“We are so close, Y/N.” He begs in your ear. He sounds so exhausted. 

Jisung has basically been carrying you for the better part of the last thirty minutes. Your entire body is shivering and a cold sweat covers your skin in a sheen. 

Are you close or is he just telling you that?

Your body sways and then your muscles give out completely. Your mouth is moving and incoherent babbling is coming out of it.

Before your body can hit the cobblestone, Jisung reaches down and scoops you into his arms, one arm under your knee, the other behind your shoulder blades.

Your head lulls around your neck like a newborn.

“Y/N.” He shakes your body desperately, “Y/N, please!” 

All you can do is babble some more. Your mouth feels so dry, like Changbin made you run fifty laps around the Keep.

The world underneath you is moving. By the wind blowing through your hair, you can feel that Jisung is running . He’s sprinting because he knows that your life is on the line. 

Every moment counts. 

Where did this strength come from?

No matter how much you try, you can’t open your eyes. 

In and out, your brain comes and goes from consciousness. Every once in a while Jisung’s voice will pull you back down from the Void and back into your body.

You have absolutely no sense of the passing of time now.

Is it five minutes later? Twenty? Did time pass at all?

Your breathing suddenly picks up again, each intake shorter and shorter. They’re pitiful gasps. No oxygen is coming in.

Choking, it feels like you’re choking. 

A sudden blast of warmth hits your face. 

Through the fog of your brain, you hear Jisung screaming bloody murder to whoever will listen. His voice rumbles through his chest and against your body.

It’s raspy and nothing short of shrieks of terror and cries for help.

“ What happened?! ” Oh, you haven’t heard that lovely voice in so long.

A second set of arms pulls you from Jisung and, like a ragdoll, your body flops against their chest. 

Oh, that musky vanilla smell. You missed it so much.

“Felix!” Chan screams from above you, “Someone get Felix! Now! Get him now! Fucking now!”

You’ve only heard his voice sound like this once. When the messenger was dying in front of him. But, even then, it did not sound this desperate. 

“Go!” Minho’s voice echoes his command in an even stronger booming voice.

“Poison! She was poisoned– stab to the leg. Her leg.” Jisung wheezes out. He sounds like he’s about to keel over from pure exhaustion. 

Chan shakes your body violently. Nothing. You’re nothing but dead, limp weight.

The sound of several objects, metal and glass, hitting the floor rings around the room and it feels as though you’re placed on top of a table.

Every single muscle in your body suddenly tenses and begins to convulse violently. Your back arches off the table and you’re choking on your own spit.

No air, you can’t breathe. 

Two sets of hands hold every one of your limbs down to the table.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can you hear me? You are going to be alright, okay? Come on, Y/N. Hang on, please.” Chan begs. You can hear in his voice that he’s crying, his throat sounds tight and his words crack. “You are not permitted to die for Miroh, remember? Do you remember Y/N?”

Your chest writhes and arcs. Suddenly, bile rises in your throat again and before you’re able to choke on it, your body is turned on its side and you throw up all over the floor. 

“Where is Felix?!” Chan screams out.

“Here! I am here!” Felix yells back as he runs into the room. 

“Poison. Leg. Heal her!” Chan barks to him, his grip on your arm and leg tightening anxiously.

“By The Six…” Felix is suddenly directly next to you. His hands immediately grab at the absolutely drenched bandage on your leg.

You made it, you made it.

Felix curses under his breath and it feels like your pant leg is being sliced open. 

Despite the circumstances, you feel relieved. You’re in Felix’s hands, he’ll heal you, you know it. He’ll fix you.

Your brain falls victim to this sense of comfort.

Slowly, it sounds like their voices drift further and further away. Even the feeling of their hands on your body seem distant, like they’re holding some phantom limb on another person. 

Several slaps hit your cheek, but all your head does is lull to the side.

“Felix.”

“I am trying, Chan!”

“This is not happening…”

“She saved me. Fuck, she did this saving me. Fucking shit!”

“Felix, please!”

Black.

[tothepointofinsanity]

Greener Grass Awaits Lore "Masterpost"

[This post contains major spoilers for the game, so please be careful while interacting.]

[I would call this a fancy piece, but really it's just me incoherently blabbering about something I like not being talked about enough again. Read it with a kilogram of salt and view it as a discussion piece instead of what it tries to be. Be warned that this is a very long post, and it is encouraged to play the game before scrolling this.]

The Fundamentals: Greener Grass Awaits is advertised as a sport and horror game. In the former, your main objective is to finish all 12 holes on the golf course. In the latter, your character is stalked by undead entities under the moonlight that distract you from your said casual golfing spree. Before all else, we should start by considering the environments presented to us within the game itself, as it contains history and lore relevant to the bigger picture.

The Setting: You break into a prestigious golfing course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club, a club that has appeared on a magazine issue before which crowns it as one of 'the most inconvenient' courses in the world, likely due to the fact that it was built on an island, also featuring courses that loop around bodies of water. A bit of history given to us was that the course was initially meant to be left as open space before it underwent renovations accordingly in 1982. Today, you will find a large bridge that looms in the skyline between hole 9 to 11 which serves as one of the alternate entry ways to the island, as well as long walkways that cut between winding grasslands and forests.

The Golf Course: The lush and verdant environments of Green Canyon's courses boast the transplant of distinctly non-native, European trees to sport its current iconic look, and this impressive landscape is maintained by an outsource lawn-care company known as Greener Grass, a team that specialises in 'large, remote areas' and is known for its apparently weird advertisements. It is also implied from the bizarre ad and posters that plays at the end of the game that Greener Grass Co. has capabilities in helping to 'revive' dead or dried up lawns, and use a special brand of either soil or fertilising materials that assist in this process. The latter is implied from what you find around the caddy shack.

The further you pick and go with your ball, however, the more oppressive the atmosphere becomes. At some places you will see the illusion shedding its scales - bald, exposed trees on yellowed patches of ground despite being surrounded by other lush trees.

The Caddyshack: At the end of the twelfth hole lies a building you were warned to stay away from because "it's bad", according to an actual Green Canyon club member you met previously. All the doors in the building are locked except for the employee's only room, which will reveal a bloody scene. Presumably, the person you encountered previously who gave you the warning was dead on a chair, while a charred body lies on the office table in the middle of the room. Strewn about are cans of gasoline and Greener Grass Awaits co. bags, possibly containing the fertiliser or soil speculated before. The caddyshack is an important place as it functions as the gateway between the human world and the realm of the residing deity.

More of this will be explained later on.

The Forest: Entering the darkness of the room in the caddyshack will magically transport you to a different space of existence. Here, temples are separated by deep forests, with sacrificial alters occasionally in between them. The forests are dark, and staying in the light is necessary for survival. There are two objectives in this section of the game: pop The Blister and then Kill the Tree. You will need to repeat this objective twice as you march further into the home of the eldritch deity. The Blisters are pulsing gobs of flesh, like a heart, that are stuck onto the orifice of a tree in the forests. However, the game developer interestingly refers to them not as blisters, but as wounds. More on this later. Popping the blisters with your ball will open up the temples' entrance to access the Trees in question, hence the latter objective. You Kill the Trees by swinging your ball into the hole beneath its trunk. There are two Trees (so two Blisters altogether) to kill. When both trees are killed, your action provokes the deity living in this space of existence so much that a boss fight is instigated.

With that being said, it's important to now discuss the enemies we encounter in question.

The Antagonists: Sneaking in for some midnight golfing has its consequences the longer you overstay your welcome on the field and continuously stare down the face of evil. Interestingly, this game presents a surprisingly thought-out mechanism and line-up of enemies as they do not operate on a singular basis, but rather as a triangular feedback between a cult, a forest of angels, and a God out of this world.

The Cult: Under the guise of a landscape company skillful in maintaining the surrounding flora, it is heavily speculated that the Greener Grass co. are an elusive cult that has been offering human sacrifices to a foreign deity that promises everlasting scenery (satisfaction, contentment) in exchange. It is implied from some sign boards that the Greener Grass cult have been spreading the deity's influence outside of its realm and into the human world through the transplant of the aforementioned 'saplings from Europe'. The flora of this game are symbolic of the presence of this God, and potentially serves as an anchor for it to assist in the maintenance of the landscape. Some clues eluding to us that it is indeed a cult were the bloodied altars in the forest sections, as well as a weird book lying on one of the chairs in the Caddyshack. The inscription on the front cover is hard to make out.

The three enemies that stalk you through the game are Greener Grass employees, and are the poster children for both the cult and company given they are one and the same. The 'bizarre ad' that plays at the end also features the same trio, and the song played in it has lyrics hinting towards the company's true intentions. Some of these notable lyrics are: "my life is not what I imagined", "what if you could find that green, and all you had to do was come with me?", "it's the answer to your problems if you come with me". Definitely ominous, and the cult's whole ordeal with 'greener grass awaits you' is a play on the proverb of "the grass is greener on the other side".

Essentially, it is a cult that capitalises off people's insecure dissatisfaction with their own lives (which is pretty much in character for most cults in the real world anyways), takes advantage of sentiments of envy stemmed similarly, all with the lure that you will be happy if you join them. However, the cult does not just follow the stereotypical 'what if happiness was evil' trope, but because their motif is directly tied to the deity they serve under.

The 'Angels': The forests between the temples and altars are occupied with a crowd of stone statues that have that trademark grin the employees had. The angels operate in a very unique mechanism. Unlike the trio employees that stalk closer when your back is turned on them, the statues littering the forest grounds follow another modified system of the weeping angel formula - the second you stay with them in the dark without a light source, it will prompt flashing visages of their faces to psychicly overwhelm your vision. They do not directly attack you, instead choosing to paralyse you in with their surrounding numbers if you're left to wander in the darkness. I call them 'angels' as they seem to be closer to the original weeping angel family in terms of how they work, but also due to the fact that they look much more friendly in the light. They are also enthusiastic statues who rotate between striking an unnecessarily cute abundance of poses. All these poses involve them expressing their joy, almost in ecstasy. Praising, worshipping...something. The ironic liveliness of their poses grants them an impression that they are dancing behind your back.

I also like the detail that when a light source is on them, their expressions are always shut-eyed, but with the visages that flash repeatedly in dark areas, even if you can't see them well, the game shows you that their eyes are open, and thus the impression their expressions give off is that they're mocking you.

On their own, the angels are not a difficult enemy given their psychic esque attacks are ceased with keeping the light close to you. But this game is sadistic, so it eventually throws in the Greener Grass employees into the forests as well. What occurs then is that you're forced to move away constantly - so you either get killed by the employee for trying to keep the light with you, or you're killed by the angels once the employee drives you out of the light's radius. Extremely evil. Once again, it is to enforce the idea that everything that wants to kill you in the game are in cahoots with each other. Another minor detail I noticed was that the trio employees from the Greener Grass commercial also broke into dances over something viewed as trivial as growing lawn grass, which is likely a parallel to the Angels' poses. The expression of 'dancing' and a carved, permanent grin, I think, is done to honour their God.

A God: The overseer of the Greener Grass cult, a deity not from our familiar world who is connected to trees, nature, and most importantly, joy. The final enemy of this game is Exuberance, an eldritch divinity who has nefarious intentions of fully crossing over to 'our' world once the Last Sacrifice is Broke Open. A face with a grin stretched wide by tree branches.

Exuberance is an interesting name as it is generally defined by 'the quality of being full of energy, excitement, and cheerfulness; ebullience.' It's not simply the emotion of happiness, but rather, referring to a state of high spirits, of ecstatic liveliness being. Furthermore, and perhaps this is merely a clever coincidence, but 'exuberance' can also be used to describe, 'the quality of growing profusely; luxuriance' particularly with plants, which would circle back to how it is related to trees and the Greener Grass cult. The entities associated with Exuberance are then constantly in a state of 'bliss' and carve their own faces to resemble their deity. After all, since when was the last time you felt so happy the only method of expressing it is through a dance? It's a primal trait, undoubtedly.

It is thus speculated that this God is quite ancient given the appearance of its realm, the forest, contains archaic architecture of temples. Yet, the bodies we find on the sacrificial altars are fresh, the blood more red than rust. Exuberance had been collecting human sacrifices through its cult, as evident by the large amount of bodies/souls that are released whenever the deity takes damage. It has that same air of confidence and arrogance towards humans that most eldritch Gods carry themselves with. Likes to speak a lot. Here are all of its lines:

Abandon this endeavor. You can't kill a God! You will join me eventually, everyone does!

Now I realise who I'm talking to! No matter. Your suit of flesh is fragile. I will break it open, and you will pour out. That body will be the last sacrifice I need.

You cannot keep that world! I will take your dinner from you.

Upon your first playthrough, though, Exuberance's dialogue sounds like complete gibberish or madness when the context is not made clear yet. This whole journey thus far has not made much sense on how it transitions from casual golfing to killing a God, how Green Canyon Golf Club has to do with a cult; but it will hopefully become clearer with the next introduction: The Protagonist.

The Protagonist: Our local golfer may not just be as local as we thought.

We've discussed the setting and the enemies. Now we must talk about the main character: yourself. In the game, you have no reflection to view your character's appearance, but if it helps in any way, you seem to be slightly shorter than the majority of the enemies and NPCs you encounter. This isn't important information, I just think it's funny. Your character is generally regarded as a weirdo, even speculated to be mentally unstable or inebriated by some people discussing this game. The signs seem to be there: vaulting fences into a premium golf course after dark to play golf in the dark, having a tendency to stare at other characters straight in the eyes, unsettling even the security guard, and appears to be obsessed with the sport of golf. Your character is played up to be an infatuated madman with the latter, with mental barriers scribbled about how they wouldn't miss golf for the world, and the leading theory as a result was that the entire game was a hallucination birthed from their obsession with golf, or rather, too bloody drunk and passed out with strange dreams near the canyon. This would have been the case until you consider two things: Firstly, despite claiming to be a hardcore golfer, your character carries around a beginner's guide on the sport, and has only a simple putter and driver in their sling bag. When you kill Exuberance and wake up in front of the club's front door, you also do not recall where you were, only recognising your car was parked, and that you should leave. Not recognising Green Canyon Golf Club indicates to us that something is off, given as discussed prior, it is an infamous place for golfing, and had the character really been a die-hard for the sport, they would have realised it without problem. Secondly, the character you play from the start to the end of the boss fight compared to when you wake up seem to have differing personalities. The character you have been stuck with seems to know what they're doing at all times, and gives instructions on their next move. They're stiff, rigid, and are not easily excitable even in the face of the stalking employees or a dead body. They don't seem to care much about anything at all except for an odd aversion to water, as well as wanting to kill Exuberance. What is even stranger is that the font for the character's monologue is completely different after the boss fight ends.

During the game:

After the game/ending:

The former is more messy, like it's written by hand. The latter is a plain font. This implies that something about your character has changed — the truth was that you were possessed all along, most likely by another eldritch God whom is not Exuberance, and came to the golf course to slay it. There are some allusions to you being a separate eldritch entity: Exuberance recognises you. Not the character you were playing as, but whatever that was occupying the human vessel temporarily. An eldritch God has no reason to remember or know a mere human, after all, hence explaining the second and third line of dialogue by it in the temples, as well as why when the original owner of the body wakes up, they have no recollection of what occured whatsoever, and, effectively as other players have thought - it's all chalked up to both the ordinary you and the players as 'just a dream'.

Your character also refers to themselves as "this body" whenever you enter the water as the vessel you are possessing has no swimming skills. At the very start of the game, you even get to 'choose body'. You're choosing a vessel suitable to your liking to possess. What is more evident as well is the ominous answers that you can use to respond to whatever the NPCs are saying, as well as frightening them due to the possibility even they knew you felt off. You would often hear screams drone louder and louder in the background whenever you got near to these NPCs, as they are actually dead. We 'hear' the truth from what is not directly told to us by these spirits that were trying to advise against proceeding deeper into the course.

Yet, we proceed. The enemies would have directly charged at you from the get-go instead of waiting for you to look away since the way you look at something (eyes are the windows to the soul, and I wonder what kind of thing they would see in the place of one when others look at you) since you clearly hold a certain influence over them by presence and stare alone. The undead should have nothing to fear, and yet even they practice caution against something that reminds them of their patron God. Another reason I believe you're being possessed is because the font you have always used in the game feels handwritten, the same way Exuberance's font is more cursive and messy. Clearly, you are a deity by some means, just a different kind with different intentions; some intentions that are left unanswered even after finishing the game.

Just what exactly does all of this writing amount to?

The Final Story: An expansive golf course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club opens up in 1982 after being renovated from its previously barren state. It was founded on a large island, featuring a diverse, challenging number of holes for people to enjoy while they traverse the canyon's scenery. In order to maintain the green and natural state of the course, Green Canyon managers hired a company known as Greener Grass to assist them. Greener Grass co. appeared to be a rather new company, having only few reviews, but an eye catching advertisement and specialises in the lawn keeping for large, remote areas, which seemed to fit the canyon's liking and geographic description. The hired company set to work, transplanting in gorgeous trees supposedly from Europe, as well as using their own brand of soil to allow the environment of the course to prosper. The environment was clearly well tended to, with the course even forbidding golf carts due to how sensitive and delicate the fields were, as well as advising golfers to not hit their balls into the trees as native birds nested there. Despite these rules, the course was fairly prestigious, its popularity captured in several sports magazines.

What was unknown to the club, however, was that this lawnscape company they hired was actually a cult, and the permission to freely introduce foreign flora to the land had been with the company's intention to bring in anchors tied to the God they made contact with, Exuberance. Through the golf course and perhaps other places not mentioned, Exuberance had been steadily increasing its influence over the human world as it received more and more sacrifices thanks to its formidable cult. The cult worked in a caddyshack on the golf course, and would lure in members of the golfing club with normal statements of refreshments available, only to offer them up as sacrifices to the altars of the temple. The sacrificed bodies were then burned and made into the materials the Greener Grass front used to maintain the lush landscapes. Countless rinse and repeat sessions of bloodshed later, Exuberance required just one more body still to cross over to the human world and, from there, become unstoppable with the fact that its associating flora were planted everywhere by the cult by then.

But the violent rituals of the Greener Grass cult had resulted in innocent souls trapped on the grounds of the course and realm in-between worlds. The souls screamed in their fate of immortalised anguish, and eventually this unbearable abundance of noise roused the deity of the human world from its previous state of inaction. Exuberance is a source of insolence, believing it could attempt to compete with Us for the world we looked after. Something must come out of this. The problem was that Exuberance's realm was closed off, difficult to penetrate without proper mobility. A plan was thus hatched: possess a suitable vessel to appear human in order to get closer to the home of the enemy. It risked vulnerability as the human body was fragile and had a mind occupying it already, but that doesn't matter when casting a heavy filter of obsession with the sport would properly motivate them to do the bidding. This different deity knows that Green Canyon Golf Club had been discreetly converted to a massive ritual ground at this point, and playing by the rules of the world of golf, even if tedious, was necessary to reaching the gateway and destroy the anchors tied to Exuberance.

You play the role of a victim as the undead start to stalk from behind, but something was off about this sacrifice, and the employees take turns reporting back to their God of this issue. Exuberance believed the disguise of a human, not being aware of what laid hidden under the layers of blood and bones. You finish the 12th hole, enter the caddyshack, and find yourself where you wanted to be: on the turf of the enemy's temples. Staying in the light was vital to survival here, and as fresh blood collects in the basin of the altar from a previous sacrifice, the innocence of a stolen life had purified to form a glowing orb. An orb that lights up like a star in the dreary landscape, taking the filth of flesh as it goes. By the time Exuberance had realised the scheme of a trojan horse, you had already successfully killed the trees, and all that was left was to kill Exuberance itself. With each swing, you take out pieces of the God, releasing the souls into the surroundings.

The fight ends with a clear victor, and you wake up outside of the golf club with no recollection of any of this. The deity possessing your vessel had relinquished control, allowing you to continue your life as normal. What occurs after then is unclear, as the advertisement sings its jingle, and we get to see the spine of a book inscribed with strange symbols on the right as the game ends with the sound of a closing door.

TLDR; Local grass cult goes overboard with human sacrifice rituals, acidentally summons worse eldritch being to kill their patron deity just so it would shut up. Happy golfing!

[invisibleraven]

"What can I do to make you believe me?" for PeterPatterLina please and thank you

"I knew I should have taken Alex up on those knot untying lessons," Reggie grumbled as he tried unsuccessfully to free his bound wrists.

Honestly he more so wished he could bend to get the knife out of his boot-the morons who kidnapped him didn't bother to search him, only divesting him of his sword. Unfortunately he was strapped to a rather uncomfortable chair with no way to maneuver.

He was sure someone would find him soon enough-as the Crown Prince, there had surely been demands made for his safe return. However, he would prefer not to be roughed up or missing any appendages upon such a moment.

He stiffened as he heard the door ease open, straining his head to see who had enter-mentally preparing for more insults or punches depending on who it was. However it was a woman in a simple dress, carrying a bowl full of water.

"I am to clean your wounds ser," she said, keeping her head low.

"Such humane treatment," Reggie snarled. "Why bother when those men intend to harm me farther should my kingdom not give in to their demands?"

"I want no part of their plans," she insisted. "I am only here serving them as they threatened my family.

"I want no part of their plans," she insisted. "I am only here serving them as they threatened my family. If I could free you, I would."

"A quaint sentiment, however how do I know this is not a part of some ploy?" Reggie asked.

The woman looked up at him, and he was momentarily stunned by her beauty. "What can I do to make you believe me? I swear upon every star that I would not wish this upon anyone."

"You could always let me go?" Reggie asked. "I can keep your family safe."

"Since you failed to keep yourself safe, I very much doubt that," came another voice from the doorway.

The woman looked up, but rather than looking scared, she looked jubilant. "Luke!"

"Hello my sweet," the man-Luke said, leaning down to kiss her hand. "Playing saviour again I see."

She blushed, nodding towards Reggie. "Seemed like he needed it."

Luke hummed, looking at the trussed up prince. "You just might be right Julie. So what do you think? Free him or leave him to his fate?"

"Do I get a say in this?" Reggie asked.

"None whatsoever," Luke replied with a smirk.

"Now my love, be nice," Julie admonished. "He's rather comely, and a prince to boot, we could fetch a high price for him ourselves."

"Hey!"

Luke sighed then, smiling at Julie. "I suppose we could do the noble thing."

"I knew you'd see it my way," Julie replied, kissing his cheek.

Soon enough, Reggie found himself freed, and Luke handed him a sword. "We may need to fight our way out," he said. "So I hope you can use that thing."

"I don't like to, but I can, yes," Reggie replied. He then retrieved the knife from his boot, handing it to Julie. "So you are not left defenseless."

Luke snorted at that, but Julie beamed. "Thank you so much Highness, that is very thoughtful of you."

"Reggie, please."

"Reggie then," she said with a nod, pulling her own knife-a large, sharp looking blade that made Reggie's look like a butter spreader. She spun both blades and smirked. "Let's go boys."

The three of them crept through the halls, taking out the guards as quickly and quietly as they could-Julie doing most of the work, until they were outside the compound. Luke lead them to a trio of stallions, and they galloped off towards the surrounding forest.

"So was the whole servant with the threatened family all a ruse?" Reggie asked Julie as they slowed.

"It was true once upon a time," she admitted. "It serves as a handy alias nowadays, to help captured princelings such as yourself who end up in a bad way with brigands and the like."

"We're the good guys," Luke insisted. "We help those that we can to keep the kingdom safe-though we never turn down supplies in thanks."

"I am sure whatever price you name my family would be amenable to paying," Reggie supplied.

"Royal support would be nice," Luke mused.

"And if you ever get in trouble again, we would be happy to help-though you do seem to be able to handle yourself until you're outnumbered," Julie offered.

"I think I've had enough of kidnappings for now," Reggie chuckled. "But if you ever require my aid, just ask of it."

"We just might Highness," Luke teased before getting his horse to speed up, Julie laughing as she followed suit. Reggie couldn't help but do the same, feeling a strange sense of freedom and belonging that had been lacking for eons now.

And wondered if he had to go home and to being a prince just yet...or if maybe, he could keep travelling with these two and see what would happen.

For he was certain, as they rode through the moonlight, talking, singing, laughing, and bonding on the long ride back to his castle-no matter the price they demanded of him, he would pay it. And hand his heart right over as well in the bargain.

Thankfully in the end, they offered him theirs right back in exchange.

[nocturnal-phantoms-fandoms]

Regulus Arcturus Black. in less than an hour:

for @pieceofshitregulus fest

a word, under the cut

Ive no idea if anyone will vibe to it, but alas, I made it, might as well share it. I wanted to focus on what we know about R.A.B: how he joined the Death Eaters so young, how he found out about the Horcruxes, and his journey to the cave.

Icarus - Bastille Natural - Imagine Dragons LOOKATME - Jann you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde Emperor’s New Clothes - Jann Meet Me In The Woods - Lord Huron Battle Cry - Imagine Dragons We Have It All - Pim Stones What The Water Gave Me - Florence + The Machine The Drink Of Despair - Nicholas Hooper [HP6 Soundtrack] Deep End - Ruelle Goner - Twenty One Pilots In the End - Linking Park

below my interpretation of the songs

Icarus is great for an opening song. It encapsulates the whole of Regulus; his ambition - that led him to join the Death Eaters - was what brought his untimely death and he can blame no one but himself. I especially like the line "you'll drink yourself to death" because his death was, in part, due to the potion he drank. (Also here the part "you leave because you're certain of who you want to be" can be seen as Regulus making the final decision to betray Voldemort and steal his Horcrux, which was the choice that led directly to his death).

Natural is Regulus's internal dialogue, whenever he tries to rationalise the values he was raised with ("In this house of mine nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost"), the sacrifices he needs to make to fulfill the role he's supposed to play in the pureblood society ("That's the price you pay" "You gotta be so cold to make it in this world"), and the choice to join the DE ("rather be the hunter than the prey"). He may battle with himself, but at the end of the day he is a natural - a rightful heir - and he takes great pride in that.

LOOKATME is here because of the lines "I lived for validation I met your expectations Pushed down on my temptation That's not what I want". I see Regulus as a dutiful son, a perfect heir, but one that was craving even more power and raw violence than his parents. He was raised to represent the oldest, most noble pureblood family, in a modest and respectable way - instead his greed pushed him to join the extremist group trying to seize the power by force.

you should see me in a crown is self explanatory. (Though I will admit it fits Bellatrix rather than Regulus a smidge better.)

Everybody Wants To Rule The World is the exact moment Regulus learns about Voldemort’s Horcrux - after joining the Death Eaters (Verse 1) and before planning to go to the cave (Verse 2) to destroy it (Bridge and last Chorus). Here the lines “Turn your back on Mother Nature” and “Nothing ever lasts forever” have a double meaning: they refer both to Regulus (when he joins the Death Eaters; and when he decides to sacrifice his life) and to Voldemort from Regulus’s perspective (what Regulus believes making a Horcrux entails; and what he essentially says in his letter).

Emperor's New Clothes can be a Regulus song if you are delusional trying hard enough. The lines that are repeated for the second time is how Regulus is recalling them after he learns about Horcruxes. While at first he was happy to serve and obey and make sacrifices for his Lord, now he is bitter, thinking about the promises (of power) that turned out to be lies (because apparently Voldemort is trying to become immortal). Regulus betrays Voldemort because he feels betrayed by him in the first place, and the feeling of hurt is so strong, the need to do something about it - throw it all away - so overwhelming, he starts wondering if becoming a Death Eater was ever worth it; to the point of questioning his own hunger for power, even trying to convince himself he never craved it in the first place.

Meet Me In The Woods has some “Regulus learning the truth about Horcruxes and slowly realising what he has to do” vibes. And the lyrics of Battle Cry just scream “Regulus making the final decision to steal the Horcrux”.

We Have It All is another perfectly Regulus song. It’s from the perspective of someone who makes a pact with the devil knowing it was the wrong choice, doesn’t entirely regret it (or is only now starting to) and makes excuses for himself - but in the end calls out to someone who could save him.

What The Water Gave Me: water themed suicide painted as a sacrifice for one’s loved ones. Need I say more? That, The Drink Of Despair from the Harry Potter soundtrack, and Deep End refer to the exact moment of Regulus’s sacrifice via the potion in the cave.

There is a lot of irony in Regulus’s sacrifice that accomplished next to nothing and I believe it makes him that much more tragic as a character. He was promptly forgotten by everyone but a house elf, did not help his cause in any way and Voldemort never even found out that it was him who discovered his secret. Hence the last two songs: Goner, which is another one of Regulus’s letters (begging to be known and remembered after his death) and In the End, because it didn’t even matter.

[ithaquasbbg]

If I eated soap.. wojld you still love me? This is supposed to be drifting apart like clouds.. but it’s more like Helel explodes something and the pieces are flying everywhere.

Drifting apart like clouds - MS x reader

Pairing : Morningstar! Ithaqua x Reader

Tw: it’s Morningstar. General violence should be a given

….

You remember being the princes favorite, coming to the palace at a young age to serve the royal family was rough, but you immediately became close with Helel. There were no warning signs he’d ever be the way he is now, nothing even suggesting he could do anything violent. As young children, you would play with him and Nebuchadnezzar, his older twin brother. All three of you were close, despite the fact your social standing was much lower than that of their own.

The first strange thing with Helel happened in your early teen years, you remember the moment vividly, hearing him and his brother screaming at the top of their lungs for hours on end, not even their parents could get them to stop yelling. “I hate you!” Helel screamed, grabbing his brother by the hair. “You ruin everything!” Helel was by no means a violent child, this event had been brought on by his brother simply breaking one of his favorite items while the two were arguing, that must have set off a fuse in Helel it seems.

The few hours afterwards he was left alone in his room by his parents and brother, nobody was supposed to accompany him but you didn’t listen, instead you two spent that time together, you hugging him tight as he sobbed into your shoulder. “Why can’t he ever get in trouble for anything?” Was one of the things repeated over and over again. “He’s so perfect, (name), and I’m nothing like him.” The words hurt to hear, he was a smart and thoughtful kid who had by no means been a disappointment. “Helel-“ he cuts you off, squeezing you tighter. “My father only focuses on my brother, it’s like I don’t even exist to them. He’s horrible, and they don’t understand it!”

At the time, you didn’t know how bad Nebuchadnezzar’s attitude could get behind closed doors; the countless hours spent mocking those around him, the way he would laugh during their father’s interrogations. Maybe it was you being ignorant, trying to convince yourself that the person you had been friends with for years truly couldn’t be awful, but he was. It took you years to see the break in the Suns facade first hand, to see the way he would treat others behind closed doors.

You remember that moment as well, you walking through the halls of the palace while cleaning with another servant, noticing that the prince had left the door to his private quarters open. Him and Helel are once again arguing with each other over god knows what, and you stop with the other servant girl to ask if they needed any help. When you’re noticed by Nebuchadnezzar, he simply walks over to the two of you, ignoring Helel entirely. “You’re making the floor filthy, you rat!” He shouts at the other girl, forcing her to get on her knees and apologize profusely. The way he laughed as she cried beneath him was sickening, a memory that haunts you. “And you.” He looks over at you, his expression unchanging. “Get out.”

Helel tries to convince his brother to calm down, to rethink his behavior. But within a moment, you hear the sound of a hard smack echoing throughout the room, and then the sound of Helel crying out in pain. “Did you not hear me? I said get out!” He shouts at you one more time, prompting you to quickly run away from the area before he could get any more upset.

You were there to comfort Helel the day his brother was crowned as king, there to ease his worries. “What is he going to do to the people..?” He asks, his worried expression shifting over towards you. You can only grab his hand and squeeze it in an attempt to comfort him. “I’m not sure, Helel.. but I’m sure you’ll manage to make it all right somehow, you always do..” You can remember the blush on his cheeks, the way his eyes widen. Within the next moment, he smashes his lips against yours, leaving the two of you breathless. “(Name)… I’ll never let him hurt you..” he whispers, holding you in his arms as if you could get ripped away any second.

But then only a few weeks later, he’s arrested under counts treason against his brother, sentenced to death. You visit him in his cell the night before he’s set to be executed, grabbing his hand through the bars. “(Name)!” He smiles as soon as he sees you, looking as happy as a person could be in a situation like he was in. “How did you get down here, you could get in trouble..” You lean your head in enough to kiss him through the bars, keeping him quiet. “My love, I needed to see you one last time.. should we never get to meet again in this lifetime.” That’s when the two of you start crying, trying to keep each other as silent as possible, fearing the possibility that you could get caught together. When you leave, he hands you one of the rings on his finger, slipping it on your ring finger as if it was an engagement ring.

“Should I have gotten to stay with you longer.. I would have loved to share my life with you. Please, (Name), don’t forget about the way I loved you.” You nod and give him one final kiss, wiping the tears off his face as you say your final goodbyes before walking off into the palace. You didn’t know that he was exiled instead, That Nebuchadnezzar had any feeling of love for his brother in that heart of his, much less enough to spare him.

The next time you see Helel is when he comes back years later, an army of rebels backing him as he takes his brothers crown forcefully. His behavior is so different from what you remember, his ego seemingly inflated significantly. ‘The Morningstar’ is what he calls himself, holding a speech to his new subjects. It’s only a matter of hours until he searches for you, bringing you into the throne room.

You feel his nails digging into your cheeks when you’re forced to your knees in front of him. “Tell me, (name), do you still have that ring I gave you?” You nod and he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand closer to look before he starts laughing. It’s a cold laughter, a cruel one. This is not the Helel you had once loved, not the sweet young man who got sentenced to death trying to protect the people. No, this was nothing but an insane monster in front of you, one that relished in the terror and fear of others.

“Now, I’m not the type to break a promise.” He has the guards unhand you and drags you to your feet. “You’re to be wed to me at the end of the week, and you will help me stay in power, do you understand?” His tone is ice cold, contradicting the wide smirk on his face. You have no choice but to listen to him, to get wed to him. Though even on your wedding day, it feels as if he no longer loves you. In all honestly, it seems as if he feels nothing but hatred towards you. The night after your ceremony, he shows you to a separate room, not even bothering to say goodnight, not giving you a warm embrace like he used to.

But that night you’re awoken by the sound of glass smashing and sobbing in his room. You rush in to find Helel on his knees, holding a photo of you two together and sobbing uncontrollably. His expression when he sees you is one of fear, knowing that the facade he had been keeping up since he’d returned is now nothing. You walk over to Helel and take his hand, cleaning the wound and bandaging it In silence. Despite however much he’d tried to convince the both of you to stop loving each other, to drift apart.. it’s obvious the feelings you have for each other are the same as the day you had first kissed.. however damaged the both of you were now. He takes your hand one more time, his own shaking as he holds it. “I’m so, so sorry.. I’ve ruined everything.”

-end-

I may continue this fic in a second part later, perhaps. I like it..

[sky-kiss]

Hi there, it's me, your girl, knocking on your door and asking for a tiny fic if you take to this prompt 😊

Strip poker. Lmao no. But maybe. It'd just be Tav getting naked as they lose horribly to him.

Okay actual prompt, sorry. I love possessive Raphael, it shivers me timbers.

What if after he successfully gets the Crown with Tav's help. And Tav thinks they're done forever, and is sad about it during their hurrah meal (THAT HE PROMISED US BUT WE DIDNT GET IN GAME?), but Raphael is very much not done with Tav yet. But plays them along a little, delighting in how attached they seem to be to him.

But also, feel free to do the strip poker adjacent if that appeals more. 😉 Thank you my dear!

________

A/N: I’m going to be super honest, babe. I almost did the strip poker prompt. 

________

“This, my dear, to a most successful partnership.” Raphael held up his glass, a beautiful crystal flute that seemed to catch the firelight; held it. Tav didn’t want to guess how rare it was, or how much it cost. Raphael seemed inclined to excess; the meal he’d promised so many moons prior reflected those beliefs. The first wine he’d served was centuries old; the second was even older. The gown he’d left provided, perfectly tailored, was set with enough jewels to sustain a small kingdom. 

Tav smiled at his toast but could not find it in herself to respond. As fine as the night had been, it held a note of finality that sat heavy on her heart. It was the bow on his victory and his crown. After this, they’d go their separate ways. 

It was objectively the correct course of action. Dealing with a devil of any sort was ill-advised; dealing with one so intimately bordered on suicide. 

Raphael smirked at her, cocking his head to the side. The firelight caught him in profile, sharpening already fine features, casting his eyes in deeper shadows. He leaned forward. “My, has the cat finally caught your tongue? Here? At the end of all things?” 

“Not in the least. Only tired.” 

“I could send you back…” 

“No!” The answer was far too quick. The devil arched a brow, smiling with teeth. He folded his hands in front of him, long fingers interlaced. Tav tried not to fixate on them, or the way his thumb shifted, stroking some invisible line across his wrist. “No, that isn’t necessary. It’s only…I supposed a part of me didn’t expect things to end so soon.”

“But it’s been months, my sweet. Are you not tired of the road? The violence?” Lower, a note of teasing crept into his voice. “My company?” Tav huffed. The adventurer sipped her wine to stop her immediate reply. The one the devil undoubtedly wanted. His eyes, bright as hellfire, glowed. “It should grieve me to leave you wanting, little mouse. You need only say that word and…” he snapped his fingers. The candles leaped with new liveliness before fading to a more intimate level. “We might find some new way to occupy our time.” 

“You have hells to conquer.” 

“And what is a conquest without dear friends?” He chuckled, and Tav fought the urge to shiver. The fireplace was far too large for the banquet hall. Avernus was naturally hot. The air in her lungs felt stagnant and overheated. “Admit it. You're curious. What will Raphael accomplish?” 

“I don’t doubt you if that’s what you’re implying.” 

“Never. I would not dream of slandering my talents or your good sense, pet.” He extended his hand, palm up. “But I would never force my suit. You are, as ever, entirely free to make your own choices.”

Tav pursed her lips. The little alarm in the back of her head was screaming. Run, it said, get far from here and far from him. She’d never been good at listening to those notes of reason. Raphael must have seen it too. The devil smirked, the right corner of his lips curling back to highlight the point of his fangs. “I wouldn’t…see us part ways. Not yet.” 

“Mmm. And why not? Indulge this…inquiring mind.” 

 She sighed, shrugging. “Because I’m…fond of you, devil.” 

“Good girl, honesty is always the best policy.” Gods, but he looked insufferably pleased with himself. Raphael leaned back, resting his chin in his palm. He drummed his fingers against his cheek. “It would be dangerous for you to stay, of course, and I could never endanger one so dear to me. Unless…” he let the sentence hang between them, full of potential and thoroughly premeditated. Tav could feel the noose tightening, the hooks he’d set in her flesh from their first meeting tugging at her soul. “A patron makes all the difference in the hells. Were you to swear yourself to me, you might remain.” 

She laughed. “Is that all? Just put myself in your hands?” 

“My hands, my lap, my bed.” His smirk took on a particularly feline quality. “Don’t look so surprised, pet. I kept the Emperor out of that lovely head. Did you think I hadn’t seen what was in it?” 

He made a vague gesture with his left hand, and those lurid imaginings came forward. The dreams that had chased Tav into an uneasy sleep for months: his touch smoothing over her hips. His mouth on her breasts. Touching, and teasing, and…

“Enough.” She swallowed, head spinning. “You’ve made your point.”

“Swear you are mine, devote yourself to me, and I will give all your imaginings form. What is one mortal life compared to pleasure eternal?” He held out his hand again. 

And Tav took it. 

[innytoes]

im so damn in love with kidnapped by the fae AU. especially willex. I'm on my knees i just need a little bit more

Some loose Kidnapped by the fae!AU headcanons inspired by conversations with @floating-in-the-blue and @legolasghosty

-Willie is friends with the crows. Ray has accepted this. He's glad Willie is making friends, even if they're not human. He's also glad the crows never poop on his car anymore.

-Willie has a hard time with the whole concept of money. He's been raised by fairies. His entire life was a series of complicated rules about trades, kindness that is rewarded, except when you try to reward their kindness and it's seen as an offense, and sometimes there's tricks where you're punished either way, and other times Caleb is just amused he's asked for something interesting, and now they're telling him you can just... slide some paper and coins to someone and they do or give you specific things????

-Yes they had several long conversations about it because Shoplifting is Bad, even if they don't see you, if you want more strawberries you can just put them on the grocery list. No teleporting inside the greenhouse and eating them there is still stealing. Yes even if you clean their house for them. Please don't break into random farmers' houses to clean them, buddy, this is America, people have shotguns.

-Between Willie trying to eat things before paying for them while at the supermarket and Alex getting overwhelmed with all the choices and Luke just staring at everything modern (he really liked the automatic doors once Ray promised they weren't magic), Reggie is the only one who gets to come grocery shopping if he's in a hurry.

-Yes Reggie absolutely adores father son bonding time shopping with Ray. And also getting to pick special treats for his boys.

-But when Willie starts asking to come with because 'I have your silly papers now, I want to pick my own fruit please, I promise not to eat them until we're in the car' Ray is like: okay. And then: where the hell did you get money.

-Willie: =D The crows give it to me. Ray: You taught the crows to pickpocket??

-Willie just shrugs. "When you go to the place with the Fast Food you give the people in the weird hats the papers and they give you fries. I started giving the crows fries for the silly papers, and it works." He leans over to whisper: "Sometimes they get a fry just because they're good birds or they bring me something shiny instead."

-Ray is still in an existential crisis on if his new foster son and his empire of Crime Birds is something he should try and stop, when Willie is like: Like this rock!!!

Ray: WILLIE THAT IS A DIAMOND.

Willie: Oh is that good? You can have that one, I like this one better. And then he proudly shows Ray a random pebble with some pink bits in it.

-Listen four extra supernatural mouths to feed is a lot but also he doesn't want to get arrested trying to pawn it but also he can't go to the cops and say: the crows brought my kid this in exchange for a french fry. So the diamond ends up in like, a junk drawer.

-Now that they've all worked out that Sharing Is Caring Willie is no longer wanting to hiss in jealousy at Julie and they become good friends. She makes him flower crowns that he proudly wears everywhere.

-When Ray insists he has to wear a helmet to skateboard he pouts because it will crush his flower crown, so Julie makes him one that fits over his helmet.

-The boys all love Flynn and let her play dress-up with them until they 'find their signature styles'. Alex likes pink and comfy clothes and fanny packs, Luke will cut the sleeves off anything.

-Flynn teases Reggie that is he sure he came from the 90s and not the 50s and Reggie is just like: I already have a signature style and it's served me well thanks.

-Willie will wear whatever and makes everything look good but he likes crop tops because of the way it makes Alex go all flustered.

[ashleyfanfic]

90 + 140 Jonerys

90. “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” 140. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

Oh, I think these can go together, don't you?

Jonerys Canon AU Fluff

The crown had only been atop her head a few moments. The people were still cheering, reminding her of her time in Yunkai, though she hadn't been held on shoulders or celebrated to that degree. But the people did seem happy about it. Jon glanced back at her from his position on her left.

Jon had all but abdicated any right to the throne. He even offered to leave the capitol so that there could be no misinterpretation of his purpose there. Instead, she'd ordered him to stay. It had turned into a cheeky argument that eventually ended with them in bed together. But he had and she was relieved.

He also said he thought it best to keep their relationship a secret. He thought this because he'd been listening to Tyrion who thought it best to leave her options open. In her mind, her choice was made and it would always be Jon Snow. People began coming up to pay their respects to their new queen, her guard always close by to protect her in case anyone got the wrong idea to try anything. Jon stood beside her silently.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Lord Snow?"

"I can't remember when I last had such a thrilling day, Your Grace," he deadpanned.

"A pity. I certainly can. Last night was rather enjoyable. This morning as well."

He lowered his head and turned to look at her, a smile playing on his plump lips. "Yes, that was memorable to be certain."

"You are diligent in your service to your queen."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"Tell me," she said as she bowed her head at lord something from somewhere. "Are you a true servant to the crown?"

He hesitated to answer but when he did, it thrilled her. "I serve the woman wearing it."

"I see." She smiled to herself, allowing the line to dwindle. "You would do anything your queen commands?"

"Have I failed to prove my loyalty to you, Your Grace?"

"If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” she waited to see what his response would be, and instead of an outright refusal or ignoring her, he actually turned to face her.

"Your Grace? We've been told that's unwise."

"We've been told a great many things, Jon Snow, but I don't believe this one to be true. What am I waiting for? An advantageous marriage to some man who only marries me for my crown? Is that what you want for me."

"Of course not."

"My advisors are there to advise me. I make the final decisions. My choice is and always has been you. Now, if I order you to kiss me, will you follow my order?"

"No," he finally answered.

Her face fell. "Why not?"

"I don't want to kiss you because I was ordered to do so, I want to kiss you because I can't spend another moment without my lips against yours. Honestly, Your Grace, it's as if you don't even know me," he teased.

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” she laughed as she stood and faced him. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers and everything drifted away. She melted against him and when they began to break away, her smile spread wide across her face.

"I think you should know, Your Grace, I'm submitting my name for consideration of marriage."

"That's hardly a proposal."

"I shall propose on my knees this evening."

She took a deep breath and gave a nod. "I know how skilled of a negotiator you are in that position."

"And I know, Your Grace, Daenerys, how agreeable you are when I am."

She gave a small wink to him and turned to face the people still in the room. "All of my honored guests, please enjoy the feasts on the terraces in the halls. The mead is flowing, the food is plentiful and the entertainment exemplary. Drink, feast, and be merry."

Full list of prompts here

[animehouse-moe]

Well, Tumblr decided to bug out on me and I've now lost the original question that was asked, but someone had asked for my favorite series (be it manga/anime/movies/Tv/etc), and this was my response.

(first of all, so sorry for losing the question! I should have taken a screenshot or something when Tumblr wouldn't let me post)

It's all good, I enjoy getting these types of questions because they make me think about this stuff haha. I'm not one to really do well with the idea of favorites, so having to pin down stuff like this can be interesting for me!

That said, for this one I might just stick with anime for the list to make it a little easier. I can definitely do a top ten of manga or other stuff later on though. Also, this list will be in no particular order because I'd be stuck forever trying to figure out a satisfying order for them.

Sonny Boy

I think it's a very fair point to argue, that at this stage in his career, Sonny Boy is Shingo Natsume's magnum opus. There's just not much else to it. It's a series that he created, from his own mind and talent, and he executed on that. There are very, very few people that work in anime that can manage a feat such as that. In terms of story, I don't have any issue with claiming Sonny Boy is the pinnacle of high school storytelling. It stretches the fabric of reality so far that you might struggle to claim that it's about high school, but the longer that you spend with it, the more undeniable a fact it becomes. Or maybe you could generalize it to the human condition, or how the cracks in society will fester and form no matter the condition, or how authority will always appear in a self-serving manner, or this or that or any concept under the sun.

Terror In Resonance

Call me crazy, but there's quite a few reasons why this is the Shinichiro Watanabe anime for me. Bebop and Champloo have rose colored glasses that adorn every fan in the community, so I feel like it's hard to really take a proper look at it compared to Terror In Resonance (even though it has a similar amount of users on MAL). As a Mappa project, it is simply the best they've ever been from start to finish. As a concept, Watanabe's approach is impeccable as it examines the frustration and sorrow of displaced children in a society that never wanted them. It's powerful, concise, and from start to finish an incredibly focused series filled with some of the crowning achievements of animators in the industry. Seriously. Takashi Hashimoto, the animator for this cut, actually did all the math to calculate the speed of the smoke as it fell and moved. Some of the best work you'll see on an anime.

Vivy: Fluorite Eye's Song

I am a big, big fan of Tappei Nagatsuki's work, so being able to experience an anime that is entirely his vision of the work is really impressive. It's one of the biggest struggles with artists, I find. Understanding their work through different mediums. What you see as an anime is not what they created as a manga, or light novel. But this is different, it is Nagatsuki's (and Umehara's) sole vision, the entire intent behind their creativity. And WIT knocked it out of the park to an insane degree. As a post-AoT studio, they showed just how far they can push their creativity and execution on a series beyond human. Incredible story, incredible animation, arguably some of the best hand to hand combat we've seen in an anime in a very long time. It's just that good.

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners

Maybe you see a trend going on with my picks, and while yes it's partly recency bias, it's also a gravitation towards anime originals. I'll add a piece to that at the end, but this is about Edgerunners right now. I was in high school when the video game was first announced. That's a decade ago, now. I played the shit out of 2077 when it dropped, and I'm absolutely eating up Phantom Liberty currently. It is then, absolutely no surprise, that I've placed Edgerunners on a pedestal. But of course, there's also a reason that Edgerunners is in the top 100 anime on MAL, and why it's Trigger's highest rated anime. It's just that damn good. An incredible story revolving around Night City and the themes that Mike Pondsmith laid the groundwork for decades ago. A true tribute to the tabletop game and the genre at large.

The Tatami Galaxy

I don't think there's a way I couldn't put The Tatami Galaxy on this list, truthfully. Of course, that also encompasses the sequel ONA The Time Machine Blues, and spinoffs like The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl. Tomohiko Morimi is a genius, Yusuke Nakamura is an icon, and Masaaki Yuasa is a savant. Incredible work for such an incredible story and message about the pursuit of perfection and the beauty that lies in the present. Arguably, much like titles such as Sonny Boy, these are 100% must watch titles for an anime fan. I'd highly recommend the others still, but these two represent such core and important aspects to how people choose to lead their lives and the frameworks that they do so within, that I strongly believe it's a requirement. I also wrote a review on the novel when I read it in January of this year.

Heike Monogatari

I think history is a very important thing to understand. I also think that history can be presented as obtuse, disinteresting, or too literal - especially in relation to history stories or myths. Heike Monogatari by Science Saru is arguably one of the greatest examples of how to display a modernized version of such a foundational tale to the history of Japan. It's also an incredibly powerful moment for the director, Naoko Yamada, as it was their first real work since the arson attacks on her home studio of Kyoto Animation. Because of the weight of her past, her work beyond words on this anime feels that much more powerful considering its messages about the past and fear of the future. It's wonderfully emotional, and contains one of my favorite closing scenes to a series.

The Saga of Tanya The Evil

Light novel aside, anime quality aside (though both are great), there's a separate reason this title is featured on this list: the adaptation. It is, for lack of a better term, borderline insane as an adaptation. It bears almost no similarity to its source. The tone is different, the scope and scale differ, there's significant changes in terms of narrative, and even the order of large scale events differs. But still, somehow, it remains a fantastic series. Bearing nearly zero resemblance to what it claims to adapt, it is something that I love. It's an incredible feat, and the gold standard of its one-of-a-kind approach to adapting a light novel.

Mononoke

Horror is a very hard thing to do right, at least in my opinion. Many get suckered into thriller territory very quickly, and avoid the psychological nature of horror. The immovable nature of something fearful standing in front of you, the slow descent into madness and despair. Mononoke grasps that incredibly well, and earns a spot on this list because of it's appeal in that manner. Also, the art is just incredible, personifying the more classical style that would be associated with the creatures and myths that pepper the story. I'm incredibly excited to see what comes from the upcoming movie.

Welcome To The N.H.K

While it may differ between its three formats, the core of the story stands strong. Impossible to put into words, it's more of a descent than anything. A descent that turns inwards on each of the characters as they slowly lose their grip on reality, as they continue to fall apart, piece by piece. I have my qualms about how they choose to end it, but I am a very bitter man at my core so it's more a personal difference than a quality one. Regardless, if you want an acid trip down the rabbit hole of depression, mania, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and all manner of other illness, there's no better story than Welcome To The N.H.K.

Toradora!

There's something special about Toradora to me. Is it the era that the anime comes from? Is it the appeal to a classic style of romance without falling prey to the issues of the layout? I'm unsure. But something about it feels so… comfortable, to me. I could watch it again and again and enjoy each minute. It's probably not the best romance anime out there, but it's one that I'll always be drawn to.

And with that, the list is over. Just to provide some extra context and honorable mentions, I'd love to have put series like Alien 9 or Monogatari on the list, but the challenge with them is the fact that the first is a shorter OVA, and the latter is a much larger series encompasses nearly too much to explain in this sort of context. There's really quite a few series like that that I struggled with when forming this list, but they're still really great titles nonetheless.

Anyways, the anime original point. While it's sort of an unconscious thing, I do realize what I do with it. Anime originals present something that you can't experience elsewhere. They are the end all be all of their creative vision, and that excites me more than a manga adaptation. Following someone else's blueprint vs creating your own, obviously one is more interesting than the other. And that sentiment extends to some of the other titles on the list like Heike Monogatari which approaches a classic story with a radical new viewpoint, or Tanya The Evil which basically forgoes the vast majority of its source material. It's really something I struggle with at large with adaptations. So many people want to leave their marks on the work, but quit just short of doing so in a meaningful manner. Very few go the mile to say that they did something in regards to the work, and instead meddle with it in minor ways which can negatively impact its reception as the original material. A great example of valuable changes is Heavenly Delusion. The team under Hirotaka completely re-arrange the order of events in the anime, and in doing so elevate the series in a way that only they can. Anyways, I digress, a discussion that I should leave for another time. This is my list, it may not be the best list out there, but it is mine.