#this book was a gift from my sister so i’m reading it nonetheless

[twinprime]

reading one of those books that makes you realize that literally anyone can get published

[mvjerbs]

 “Ami! I was going to pay for us!” Kenji complained as he walks out of the restaurant together with Ami who continues to ignore his complaints. She had called him for another exclusive interview but eventually got distracted and started chatting about other things, sharing tea and gossip about other players and people. Ah, the perks of being friends with a journalist.

“Amiii, let me pay you.” Kenji whined causing Ami to sigh in annoyance.

“Oh, just let it go already. I don’t want to feel like a leech! Besides, I was the one who asked for the meet up therefore I am the one who is obliged to pay for us.” Ami reasoned.

“But I have money to burn. Lots of it!” Kenji replied, raising his arms up in the air to prove his point. Ami only rolls her eyes with a smile, still not giving into the offer.

“Ok millionaire, I gotta go now. Chiho is waiting for me to go home.” As if on cue, Ami’s phone rang causing both to look at the source of the noise. Ami fished out her phone from her bag and answered the call, but before she could say hello, Chiho’s voice yelled ‘Mama!’ loudly causing Ami to flinch away from her phone for a moment. Kenji laughed which earned him glare from her.

“What a timing. I’m guessing she’s going to ask you to buy something for her?” Kenji said. Ami replied with a nod before waving goodbye to Kenji who, in turn, waved back before heading to where his Motorbike was parked. As he walked to the parking lot, he passed by a bookstore where he found the brightest and the most eye catching storybook he has ever seen that even got himself hypnotized. Kenji has to admit, he has never seen anything quite like it before, it was adorable and brightly colored. Something Emi would like, it’s been awhile since he last bought her a story book and Kenji decides it was perfect for her. Well, appearance wise that is, he has to check the contents of the book to make sure if it was suitable for her. With the decision in his mind, Kenji walks in and went to the children’s corner where he found the book he was looking for. He read the story for himself to check and was satisfied with it, he turns around to head to the cashier and pay for it only for him to run into someone he didn’t expect to meet. Just a few feet away from him with a basket full of books on one hand while browsing the shelf was-

“Agamatsu?”

The man turned to Kenji and his eyes widened from surprise.

“Sato?” Juro called. The initial shock wore off from Kenji and was now replaced with a smirk.

“Well, it’s a surprise to see you here Agamatsu. What are you doing in the nerd shop?” Kenji asked. Juro turned to fully face Kenji as he gave him his own smirk.

“Was going to say the same thing, but the children’s book says so otherwise. What’s that for? Don’t tell me you let your dad read you bed time stories” Juro replied.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, bookworm” Kenji said in a mocking tone. Despite the insults being thrown at each other, they both felt a strange sense of playfulness in each word causing them to feel slightly comfortable around each other. In fact, Juro merely laughed at what Kenji said causing him to smile. Juro eventually calmed down before asking a favor.

“Hey, listen. Let’s timeout for now, I need help on something.” Juro said, surprising Kenji but nonetheless obliged from the request.

“I honestly thought you forgot about that since it has been months, nor did I expect to do this again with you but I’ll bite. What do you need help with?” Kenji said, curiosity over coming him.

“Of course I wouldn’t forget it, it was something unexpected, but anyways. I need help looking for a book series. The birthday of my friend’s sister is coming up and she has been wishing to get this series as a gift.” Juro explains. Kenji nods along, finally knowing the purpose of the ‘timeout’.

“What do you have so far?” Kenji asked as he peered into the basket.

“So far, I only found 2 parts which is the series’ book 2 and 4.” Juro continued while picking up both books to show to Kenji. 

“I need to have all 5 parts of the book series but I can’t find the rest and I have circled this god forsaken bookstore 4 times already.” Juro complained, looking slightly frustrated at the situation he is in. Looking closely, Kenji could see the exhaustion from walking and looking around. No wonder he’s desperate enough to ask help from him.

“Alright then, I’ll help. Where do we start?” Kenji asked slightly lifting his sleeves to emphasize his seriousness in helping. Juro smiled at the gesture. Both immediately got to work and spent the whole time in the bookstore digging, asking, searching, and complaining about how some costumers won’t return books to where they were originally placed and how it cost them their energy (the other parts were scattered in different parts of the bookstore). Eventually, they found the rest of the parts, all except for the last. Kenji was starting to feel frustrated and Juro was in the verge of giving up, he turned to Kenji to tell him that they can stop then when he was cut of by him.

“Juro, Look!” Kenji exclaimed and pointed. Juro followed the direction to where he was pointing and there he saw someone holding the last book that they needed. And from the looks of it, she was about to return it to the shelf. Both started to head towards where the woman was.

“Excuse me ma’am, I just wanted to ask if you were going to buy that book you are holding?” Kenji asked, catching the attention of the woman causing her to turn around.

“Oh, no I’m not. In fact I was just about to put it back on the shelf. Do you want this book?” The woman asked, pointing at the book.

“Yes please ma’am, thank you so much. You have no idea how long we have been looking for this.” Juro thanked her, both him and Kenji let out a sigh of relief. Their book hunt was now finally over after hours of searching.

“Well, it’s a good thing you both found me before anyone else can-“Before the lady could finish and hand over the book, someone passed and snatched the book away from them and proceeded to walk away.

“Wuh- Hey! That’s ours!” Kenji yelled, pissed because someone had the audacity to snatch the book from them after finally finding it. The man turned to and proceeded to give them a dirty look.

“Yours? You don’t seem like the type to read these type of genre. You don’t seem like the type to read at all. Besides, she was putting it back so I’m claiming it.” The man replied and left, leaving no chance for Kenji to speak.

“Son of a-“Kenji was about to march over to the man, ready to fight for the book when Juro grabbed his arm causing him to stop.

“What are you doing? We should go after him.” Kenji asked, anger evident in his face, but he noticed that Juro’s expression was the opposite. He was strangely calm for someone whose gift was stolen from him. Kenji wonders what he has in mind.

“We will, but I have you ask you something.” Juro said, still staring at the man took their book. Kenji gave him a confused look but turned to him to show he was listening.

“How do you feel about going low?” Juro asked. Kenji smiled in response, glancing at the thief one last time before walking closer to Juro to listen to his plan.

“Fools, they should’ve grabbed it immediately instead of talking. Now my collection is complete!” the man said, smiling to himself as he walks into an aisle, browsing the shelfs and occasionally grabbing a book to read its synopsis. The man was engrossed on the book he grabbed that he failed to see Kenji approaching. As he got close, Kenji ‘accidentally’ bumps into the man causing him to drop all the books he had.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I really should’ve looked where I was going” Kenji apologized. Bending down to help the man in picking up the books he dropped.

“Maybe you should, idiot.” The man muttered loud enough to make sure Kenji hears it. Kenji gritted his teeth, holding back the urge to actually punch the man in the face. After collecting the books, he handed them back to the man and apologized once more before turning to leave.

The man continues to grumble while checking if he was missing any books, and he was. The man slowly started to panic as he wonders what he was missing and where it went before realizing which book was missing. It was also the moment when he realized who bumped into him. Enraged, the man dropped his books and started to look for Kenji, repeatedly chanting ‘thief’. It didn’t take long for him to find Kenji who was just an aisle away from where the man was, he was browsing and looking at the books he was passing by.

“YOU!” The man exclaimed loudly, causing everyone to turn to him including Kenji. Kenji swears he could hear steam coming out of his ear with how angry the man was as he was marching over towards him.

“YOU STOLE MY BOOK! WHERE IS MY BOOK?!” The man said, grabbing Kenji by the collar of his shirt causing him to slightly bend forward. The man was quite short compared to Kenji.

“Book? What book? Can’t you see I am trying to look for a book as well?” Kenji replied, standing back to his full height causing the man so slightly stumble forward.

“LIAR! YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHICH BOOK YOU T-“The man shook Kenji angrily, but then he saw something at the corner of his eye. By the cashier, he saw the missing book that was being held and packed inside a bag by the cashier and Juro handing over the cash to pay.

It turns out, Kenji had stolen the book when he had accidentally bumped into the man and was passed on to Juro who was hiding behind a shelf that was close to the cashier. With book acquired, Juro heads for the cashier while Kenji walks away from Juro to serve as a distraction for when the man realizes one of his books are missing.

The man panicked, letting go of Kenji and started to bolt for the cashier.

“NOOOOO” He yelled out, the world seemed to slow down around him as he watched the cashier print out the receipt and handing it to Juro.

“Here you go sir! Thank you for shopping in-“The cashier yelped in surprise as Juro immediately grabbed the book when he noticed the man dashing for it. He held the book up and backed away from the man who was currently attempting to grab it from him.

“NO THAT’S MINE, YOU CANT HAVE THAT.” The man yelled, trying to get close to Juro and grab the book from him.

“Dude, I just paid for this!” Juro said, still keeping the book out of the man’s reach.

“NO GIVE IT BACK YOURE STEALING YOU THIEF.” The man said accusingly.

“Thief?! I just bought this, its on my receipt. You’re the thief here since you’re trying to take what’s technically my property!” Juro snapped back. This caused the man to throw a tantrum and was about to lunge at Juro when he was suddenly apprehended by the security. He continued to cry out as he was being escorted out of the building. Both Juro and Kenji watched as the man pathetically cried and hurl insults at them before eventually being thrown out of the store.

“Finally, that guy was gone. We have been waiting for an opportunity to do that since he kept disturbing other costumers.” The cashier said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“He does that all the time?” Kenji and Juro asked at the same time, both shocked at the revelation.

“All the time.” The cashier confirms and thanked them once again for shopping. After all the books were paid, both exited the building where they stood there for a moment to process the events that had transpired in the store.

“…do you think we went too low? I mean, we basically embarrassed the guy and got him banned.” Juro asked, finally breaking the silence.

“…nah, he deserved it.” Kenji said. Both looked at each other before bursting out in laughter, tears forming in eyes from how hard they were laughing. Eventually they both calmed down.

“Oh man, that was amazing.” Juro said, wiping the tear from his eyes as he slowly regained his posture. Kenji nodded in agreement, finally calming down from his own laughter.

“Alright. I should pay you for my book-“ Kenji said, reaching for his pockets to fish out his wallet when Juro grabbed his hand to stop him.

“Oh, No need. Take it as thanks for helping me out today.” Juro said, grabbing the story book out of the bag and handing it.

“Ughh, c’mon man. You’re the second person who paid for me today, let me use my money!” Kenji groaned and Juro laughed in response.

“Too bad. Suffer the rich people problems.” Juro replied, Kenji pouted but still accepted the book. He’s going to find a way to somehow repay him for it. As Kenji grabbed the storybook and noticed the contents of the bag.

“Hey, speaking of books. Are those Robotics and Engineering books?” Kenji said, pointing into the bag.

“Oh, yeah they are.” Juro confirmed, fishing out a book to show Kenji.

“Are they for someone as well? They must be a genius to be asking for that kind of book.” Kenji said, thinking about how his dad and the person might get along with their interests.

“No, these are for me.” Juro replied. Kenji looked at Juro with eyes wide in surprise.

“Yours? I didn’t think you were the type at all. No offense.” Kenji commented. Juro simply shrugged at him, looking at the book he has on his hand.

“It’s just a hobby of mine. Nothing much.” Juro said dismissively.

“Nothing much? Bro, my dad is the same as you and I still get impressed with what he makes. You should really show me some stuff, I could show it to my dad too.” Kenji said, Juro looked away while running his hand through his hair. A habit that Kenji notice him do often.

“I’ll think about it. Thanks again by the way. Our timeout can end here.” Juro said as he gave Kenji a soft smile, and Kenji mirrors it.

“Alright, I’ll see you later…nerd.” Kenji said, his smile now replaced with a smirk.

“Really? After you just learned about my hobby I’m a nerd now?” Juro said, playfully as he watch Kenji slowly walking away from him.

“It fits!” Kenji said, still smiling.

“Whatever, thief!” Juro yelled, causing a few people to turn to them.

“You can’t just say that out loud!” Kenji yelled back, now embarrassed as he noticed a few stares from people. Juro only laughed loudly. He watches as Kenji gets on his Bike and drives away while flipping him off as he drove past where he stood, Juro laughed harder and waved at him. As Kenji’s figure disappeared from his sight, he turns around and headed for his car that was parked not too far from him as well. On his way, he recalled the events that happened in the bookstore and Kenji’s laughter echoes in his mind as they laughed about what happened. Juro smiled, suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy inside, he made a new friend. As Juro steps into his car, he silently wished they could have another timeout.

[miloformula123fan]

Hi I love you,

LOGAN FIC PART 3 PRETTY PLEASE.

xx

FINALLY PART 3 IS HERE

the story now has a conclusion but I will be happy to go back to it for some small snippets of their life if people want - just send me a message in my inbox

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for anything created in this universe

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

part 1 is here, part 2 is here

george russell x sargeant!reader

---

He’d started with flowers. He remembered that she liked orange, so he had gifted her some orange lilies, yellow carnations and tiger lilies. The florist had looked at him very weird when he’d asked for those 3 flowers, but wrapped it nonetheless. He’d had no response after leaving them at Logan’s front door, despite the note also left. Lily had looked at him like he was an idiot when he told her what he did.

Then there were some bad jokes sent to her phone. All left on read. Okay maybe sending her some jokes from a book titled ‘bad dad jokes for dads’ was a bad idea but he had just hoped that they would make her laugh. Lily once again looked at him like he was stupid and Alex had also laughed at him when he told them.

He was never taking relationship advice from then.

He started talking to Logan again. It had been a little awkward because he had been broken up with by his sister, but they managed. He was a good running partner and seemed to be able to differentiate between George, his friend, and George, his sister’s ex boyfriend. Alex had smiled and Oscar had winked when they all went out for dinner together. Lewis just waggled his eyebrows.

He googled the flowers. Okay, maybe sending her a bouquet full of hateful flowers was a bad idea. He made sure to actually consult the florist and instead gave her some orange roses, frangipanis and alstroemerias. She answered the door this time and smiled when she saw the flowers.

She invited him in. Talked to him at the kitchen table where he’d made her pancakes on one of the few cheat days that lined up together. She put the flowers in a vase on the table. He could see the old flowers chucked in the bin. She gave a sheepish smile when she followed his gaze to the bin. He couldn't remember what exactly she said, but he left with tickets for her next Arsenal game in his coat pocket.

He went for another jog with Logan that week. Then joined him in the friends and family box for the Arsenal game. Then he went to the Paris Olympics to cheer her on for her second place medal. In return she had come to Miami and cheered him on from the Williams garage. Then she had come to COTA and cheered her brother on from the Mercedes garage. George and Logan had laughed about that.

“Well, now that I’m banned from the Williams and Mercedes garage, I guess it is time to finally time to say, I love you Russel George.”

“Does this mean I'm forgiven?”

“I suppose so.”

“Love you too Y/N Sargeant.”

---

taglist: @folklorsweet @the-untamed-soul @thatgirlmj @cstads-blog @sinofwriting

[melonminnie]

Hello there!!! How are you?? I am here with another request after your last post ok becoming the Villains family I need a post on the first time line where they found her or I'll not be able to sleep... so here is the request as it's valentine week so like the reader somehow found out about wat is valentine (heared from the conversation between the maids) and what she know is its a day where u show love to the person you love dearly and what she don't know is that the ' love' they were talking about was romantic . And she also heared that people kiss on that day so like she made it a mission to kiss the whole mansion down papa valentine always carry her and give her gift 10 kisses.....mama valentine told her stories and fed her cakes give her 20 kisses ........ Vincent took her for walks give him 15 kisses ....Mr. butler and nanny took care of her give them10 and Like whole mansion is like melting down becuz of these cute little kisses.. and the masters of the house are fighting over who got more kisses all while baby reader is hugging her older sister nuzzling into her saying she loves her the most.... sorry if I'm troublesome and thank u!!!!

I always love someone unconditionally! (Valentine special!)

Btvf x fem! Child reader.

-Thank you for requesting! My followers have really cute ideas 🤭🌷

“Valentines day is so soon” one of the maids sighed, the other giggled “do you think someone is gonna ask you?”.

“Well maybe”, “oh! So you do think someone is gonna ask you then what? Are you planning to make out with him?!” She gasped teasing the other, the maids face quickly flushed in embarrassment, “you really have no shame!, and if i was planning to kiss him-”. “So that means you have someone in mind, but nonetheless you should find someone you truly love not just some random guy you meet” she nodded her head in confirmation.

“Hey!, I know that you know..” she trailed off starring at her feet, her face still burning red, “yeah whatever I’m just saying”

While the two were talking, pink hair was able to be spotted from behind a wall pillar, tony hands gripping it while pink eyes starred directly at the two maids.

of course everyone knew who it was, or surely if they noticed.

“Kiss?..” the pinkette was slightly questioning what they meant for a second, she slowly stood up from her sitting position.

the girl was still questioning what they meant.She walked into her room and headed to the nanny that was seated on one of the chairs.

“Nanny!” The girl yelled running up to her once noticing where she was, “hm? Is there something wrong?”

“What’s Valentine’s Day” she asked, the maid slightly smiled “its a day where people show their love for others!” She answered.

“Ohhh, how do they do that?” The girl asked wanted more information, “well everyone has a different way of showing that” she hummed in response.

“Okay!” For a few minutes the pink haired girl starred at the nanny, thinking about what to do before she spoke.

“Can you bend down please?” She asked, the nanny had accepted, she got up from the chair and kneeled to the young girl.

Chuu!

The girl had kissed the maid’s cheek, “thank you!” She smiled before running away.

The nanny stood there in shock one hand touching her cheek.

And so started name’s operation began of kissing everyone’s cheek in the mansion

The first victim of this plan, was Tristan or more formally the Duke of valentine.

The black haired man was just minding his own business when he came across his youngest’s daughters bedroom door closed, it had hit him that he hadn’t seen her in a few days so like any normally affectionate father he walked inside.

Upon further intrusion, he had walked in on her reading, without speaking a word Tristan sat infront of the pink hair. The man added one hand on the table resting his head on it.

“Dad?” The girl peered up from the book she was reading, “what is it” he answered. Without a word the girl moved walking to his seat, Tristan almost by instinct stood up and picked up his much tinder daughter and walked out of the room.

although he didn’t have a destination in mind, this is much better then signing and reviewing papers, he thought humming.

after a while of walking around without a goal, the pink hair decided it was the perfect time to execute her plan!.

But before she was able to complete it, Tristan handed her a bracelet , it looked ordinary but if you look very very closely, it was made with pink diamonds that decorated it nicely, making it glow under sunlight. “Thank youuu” she smiled at the man.

To her it was the perfect timing to start her operation, “I have a gift for you to so close your eyes please” Tristan slightly questioned his daughters actions but complied.

‘Chuu’

The girl had pecked Tristan’s cheek, Tristan opened his eyes in surprise but didn’t have enough time to react

‘Chuu!’

The girl continued for 20 seconds before stopping, still in shock the pink haired girl had ran away from her fathers arms finding her next victim.

With wide eyes Tristan’s hand reached his cheeks before he mumbled out, “what was that?..”

Names next victim was the duchess or more knowingly Sabina, with the bracelet in one hand the girl knocked on the door before entering the room.

The woman became aware of the girl’s presence and welcomed her with a smile, “Name!” Sabina was clearly happy to see the young girl from her tone of voice and expression.

Name quickly ran to the said woman and sat next to her, with a bright smile Sabina asked, “are you happy to see me?”

“Yes yes!” She replied hugging the black-haired woman’s waist, in one hand name was holding the bracelet, in the other was a book she wanted Sabina to read to her.

shoving it in the woman’s face she asked, “my nanny gave me this as a gift can you read it to me?” She cheerfully held onto book, “of course I can” Sabina replied grabbing it and opening the book.

While Sabina and name were busy reading the book, servants were walking in bringing tea and desserts for the two to drink, for a moment Sabina had passed and looked at the food before continuing what she was doing.

When the two were finished, name had grabbed a strawberry tart to eat, before managing to eat it, “do you want me to feed you?” Sabina hummed grabbing a fork from the table.

the pink haired girls eyes filled with glee as she repeated yes’s over and over, “say ahhh” Sabina opened her mouth, motioned the young girl to do the same. “Ahhhhh” the girl complied her hands held onto her mothers dress. Name had bitten the spoon the sweet taste filling her mouth her eyes sparkling.

The two had long finished eating, name had almost forgotten her plan, tugging onto Sabina’s dress once again, “come down I have a gift for you!” She giggled.

Sabina like Tristan had complied lowering her upper body to the girls height.

‘Chuu!’

Sabina let out a same laugh, she found it cute, yet amusing.

‘Chuu!’

the younger girl kept her lips onto the woman’s cheeks, pecking her every 5 seconds, then she would run away before Sabina could reply, the older woman holding a warm smile on her face. Chuckling softly at what had just happened.

Vincent had been waiting infront of names door for over 15 minutes, as much as he wanted to complain, he couldn’t.

“Vincent” name had just arrived infront of her door from being at Sabina’s, “let’s go for a walk” that was the only word that he’d said before he softly grabbed the younger females hand.

the two siblings had been in out in the garden for a while, Vincent was humming, while name kept on pointing at flowers calling them pretty.

“I think this one’s the best” Vincent had cut a pink carnation flower, placing it in his sisters pink hair, after his task he smiled.

“then this one looks pretty on you” the girl returned the favor by adding a white rose in his hair. “Ah! Also I have a gift for you” with what she just said the boy kneeled down not needing to be told to.

“What is it?” He asked touching a strand of the girls pink hair, “you need to close your eyes first!” The boy complied closing them as tight as possible.

‘Chuu!’

Once again, name had ran away from the crime scene, leaving a bewildered Vincent in shock just like the others.

and so she went on to do it to the butler and head maid once they helped her clean up her face from the dirt in the garden.

While Name was searching for her beloved older sister, she ran to all of the family members arguing aria standing in the middle.

“Well she obviously loves me more!, she told me so” Vincent argued with Lloyd, “do you have a death wish? Did you force her to say that” Lloyd shot back His arms crossed.

“You two are obviously idiots” Tristan entered the argument, “nobody was talking to you you old man” Lloyd glared at him

“Aria~!” The pink head ran to her elder sister, Aria engulfing her into a hug, “I love you the most!, more than the moon and back”the girl hummed nuzzling into her sisters chest.

the three who were just arguing, starred at the scene, slightly embarrassed.

“Hm y/n do you love me too?” Sabina interrupted point at herself, “oh! Yes I love both of you alotttttt” she hummed hugging the both of them.

“I love all of you equally”

“ as long as we can be a family I’m happy” Tristan quickly picked her up before loudly announcing.

“See this is the reason she’s my favorite child” he hummed playing with her hair.

the girl smiled at the saying, even if she wasn’t his favorite, she’d still be happy that the somewhat noticed her, because they saved her for something she never thought she could ever get out of, this was just her paying them back with her affection.

Tags!: @bloobewy

@helpmeidontknowsworld

[moodymelanist]

Where The Light Won't Find You Chapter Seven

Happy Tuesday, everyone! I wanted to try and wait to post until Wednesday, but this chapter was so exciting I wanted to post now hehe. Hope you all enjoy xoxo

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Nesta

Having Elain by her side again was easily one of the best decisions Nesta had ever made. It had only been a week since they'd been reunited, but things had been running more smoothly than even Nesta could have anticipated. Not only was Elain a calming presence in the Hewn City, with her pretty dresses and easy smiles, but she’d been practicing her own magic as of late. She’d gotten much better at controlling her visions, even if she didn’t always understand them, and was more than willing to share the interesting ones with Nesta. 

“Did you See anything of note today?” Nesta asked once they’d sat down for breakfast. They were eating in one of the rooms closer to the top of the mountain today, both of them vastly preferring being as close to natural light as possible. 

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Elain answered vaguely, smoothing down the fabric of her dress before reaching for a pastry. She had on a pretty green number today, complementing the much darker shade of Nesta’s own gown, and half of her hair was pinned back from her face using what must have been new pins. Elain had been getting little gifts from the servants for days now, and she made a point to show her appreciation as often as she could. “Besides, we’ll have our own guest soon.”

Considering her sister was wearing the pearl earrings that Lucien had gifted her last Solstice, Nesta wasn’t particularly surprised when the spirits whispered that he’d entered the Hewn City. When he strode into the room a few minutes later, she looked up to greet him. “Hello, Lucien.”

“Your Grace,” he replied, inclining his head toward Nesta. His eyes fell on Elain and he paused, clearly unsure of how to greet her for a few moments, but he continued onward nonetheless. “My lady.”

“My lord,” Elain responded with a smile. “Please, sit with us. You must be starving.”

Lucien only hesitated for a moment before pulling up a chair and sitting between them. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“If you were, we wouldn’t have told you to sit,” Nesta told him with a roll of her eyes. She turned and faced Elain next, cocking an eyebrow as she said, “At least now I know why there’s so much extra food.”

Elain went a little pink, but they were all too busy piling food onto their plates for Nesta to call her out on it. Once they’d all gotten something in their stomachs, Nesta turned her attention to Lucien. He looked handsome as always, wearing an all-black ensemble threaded with green that made his red hair even more striking than usual, but he was so busy sneaking glances at her sister that he didn’t even notice Nesta looking him over. 

“Did you get that book I asked you about?” Nesta asked, thoroughly enjoying the way he had to force his attention back to her. She supposed he and Elain had never had time to themselves before all this — and she was partly to blame for that, she knew — but that only made it more fun to witness it now. 

“I did,” Lucien answered. He twisted his hand through the air and her book appeared in a flash of golden light. “It certainly caused a lot of fuss, so I hope it was worth it.”

“Fuss how?” Nesta followed up. She took the book from him without comment, copying his gesture to perform the same trick he’d just done but in reverse. “Did anyone try to hurt you?”

“Gods, no,” he responded with a snort. “I mean, I saw Cassian, but I left before anything really happened.”

“They all thought you took me from Velaris,” Elain chimed in, playfully rolling her eyes before her expression turned serious. “I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of that.”

“It’s alright,” he replied softly. “I didn’t mind.”

Nesta allowed them a few moments of charged silence before she cleared her throat. “Have you made up your mind yet, Lucien?”

“My answer is yes,” he told her, managing to tear his eyes away from Elain long enough to focus on Nesta. “I’d been thinking about leaving for a while, but… that gave me the push I needed.”

“Good,” Nesta replied, pleased. She’d have to write Eris to update him on the good news, and more importantly, gather Lucien’s thoughts on a number of things going on at court. “I’m happy to have you on our side.”

“As am I,” Elain chimed in with a pretty smile. 

Lucien’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he managed to continue the conversation without giving in to being flustered. “Should I just pick a room in the mountain then, or…?”

“Mhmm…” Elain trailed off. Her eyes went a little vacant as she tapped into her powers right in front of them. “Not here. I think it’s high time for a proper upgrade.”

“Are you going to tell me what that means, or are we supposed to just follow your lead?” Nesta asked, teasing. 

“You’d follow me anyway,” Elain teased right back. “But I won’t make you guess. It’s time we take up residence in the moonstone palace.”

“Rhys did give it to Keir,” Lucien informed them. “There’s a strong argument it’s now yours.”

“Do you think it would anger anyone if we moved up there?” Nesta asked, biting her lip. She’d gotten used to sleeping in her cavernous bedroom, but she wouldn’t lie — it would be nice to sleep in a palace where she could go outside freely. “Anyone at court, that is. I don’t care what Rhysand and the rest have to say about it.”

“As long as you keep spending the majority of your days in the Hewn City, I don’t see why anyone would be too bothered about where you lay your head at night,” Lucien answered with a shrug. “Besides, I’m sure there’s some way to go back and forth without too much fuss. If not, we can always create one.”

Nesta nodded, taking it all in. “You’ll help with checking the wards?” 

“Of course,” Lucien agreed. “I’ll be sleeping there too. Believe me, I don’t want to wake up to unwanted guests any more than you do.”

“Then it’s settled,” Elain decided. She turned back to Nesta as she speared an apple slice on her fork. “We’ll claim the palace tonight after all your meetings for the day?”

“That’s fine with me,” Nesta replied with a smile. She liked seeing this more assertive side of Elain, and based on the way Lucien could hardly take his eyes off her, he did too. “I’ll find you when I’m done for the day.”

✵✵✵✵✵✵

True to her word, Nesta found Elain in the study the moment she was done meeting with some of the Hewn City’s merchants. They’d been annoyed with some of Keir’s old policies on trading with outside courts, but the issue had been quickly resolved with Lucien’s expertise. 

Elain was lounging across one of the couches, reading what looked like an old tome about Day Court magic.  She must have picked it up during her brief trip to Helion’s court, but Nesta didn’t know why it would interest her. Elain was crafty enough to have her own reasons, though, and they’d both had enough choices taken away from them that Nesta wouldn’t begrudge her this. 

“Are you ready?” Nesta asked, keeping her voice soft so she wouldn’t startle her sister.

“As ever,” Elain replied sweetly. She marked her place in the book and used the same trick Lucien had performed earlier, her magic glowing nearly the same pale green as her dress as the book vanished. “Is Lucien winnowing us?”

“Yes, since I haven’t been before,” Nesta answered. She waited for Elain to stand up so they could start walking toward where Lucien was likely already waiting for them. “You should have him teach you how to winnow. You never know when you might need it.”

“I don’t have to make up reasons to spend time with him,” Elain responded, rolling her eyes. “If I wanted to see him, I’d just ask.”

Nesta just poked her sister in the side. “I never said you did. I’m just saying it’s a useful skill to have, and it would make me feel better if you knew how.” 

“Fine,” Elain promised with a put-upon sigh. “I’ll ask him, but only if you get to work on your magic too.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” Nesta asked dryly, motioning to the spirits silently accompanying them. 

“I mean proper training, Nesta,” Elain replied with a knowing look. “There are things those books of yours won’t be able to teach you. Things you really should have guidance on before you just… try them.”

“Fine,” Nesta agreed, rolling her eyes. She knew Elain was just trying to be helpful, and even she could admit there was too much to learn on her own. Raw power could only get her so far, after all. “I’ll examine my options.”

“Wonderful.” As they rounded the corner, Elain flashed a smile at Nesta before turning the full force of it on Lucien. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Lucien confirmed, shaking off his slightly dazed expression. He offered both his arms to them, and Nesta latched onto Lucien’s right elbow while Elain gently threaded her arm through his left one. “I don’t know if the dead can winnow, so you might want to leave them behind.”

Nesta used her free hand to send the ghostly guards away for now, barely even registering the rush of magic through her veins. “I’ll summon them again if we need them.”

“Alright,” Lucien answered slowly. “Well, let’s not waste any more time.”

Nesta let herself be yanked into nothing for a few moments before reappearing outside the familiar palace. After being inside the Hewn City for so long, it felt strange to be out in so much open air, though seeing the sun without barriers was certainly a nice change of pace. The moonstone palace glittered before them in all its glory, rising high above the gray mountains it was situated on top of, but even from outside Nesta could tell it was empty. 

“The wards might grant us access, but we’ll have to try and find out,” Lucien eventually said. His metal eye was whirring and clicking as he studied them, and Nesta watched it move, completely fascinated. She’d never seen anything like it, and she’d had such few chances to see it in action.

“Even though Keir is dead?” Nesta asked, shivering as a cold wind whipped right through the fabric of her dress. It was freezing up here, and they weren’t inside the wards that kept the palace warm. It was one of the few times in recent memory she found herself annoyed her flames didn’t burn hot, but not as annoyed as she was with herself for forgetting to bring one of the thick traveling cloaks hanging in her new wardrobe.

“The magic doesn’t flow the way you’re thinking,” Lucien explained. “There’s no power tied to the ruler of the Hewn City, at least not in the way High Lords are tied to their Courts, so there’s no telling if the wards will recognize your claim to the throne. We might have to force our way through the wards and change them from the inside.”

“I understand how the magic flows, Lucien,” Nesta countered with a roll of her eyes. “I was there when Keir died. I was just wondering if the wards would still be functional when they’re not tied to any specific person.”

“My apologies,” Lucien said. “They’re still functional. Rhys likely altered the wards to allow Keir access, but they’re still keyed to him.” 

“We’ll have to be quick,” Elain added suddenly, her eyes far away. “Their plans have changed.”

“Isn’t that just perfect,” Lucien muttered under his breath. He finally sighed and turned away from the palace to face Nesta. “I think I can unravel the wards in a few key places, help weaken them, but you’ll have to help me.”

“Whatever you need,” Nesta immediately agreed. Anything to get her out of this miserable weather sooner. 

Lucien took a few moments to conjure up a little fire to keep Nesta and Elain warm, the flames magically confined so no one would get burned. “Come closer.”

“Alright.” Nesta took a moment to warm herself before coming to stand next to Lucien. “What now?”

“When I say, you need to aim a blast right for the doors,” Lucien replied. “You’re going to have to hit it a few times, so don’t use all your magic up at once.”

“Okay,” Nesta agreed. She let her ironclad grip on her magic go slightly, just enough for her silver flames to come when she called. “And then?”

“And then we go inside,” Lucien answered with a shrug. “I don’t know what kinds of traps Rhys put up, so we should be prepared for anything.”

“I can do that,” Nesta said with a shrug of her own. She took a deep breath before reaching beneath the earth, searching for nearby spirits to help with their mission. She didn’t have to look particularly hard before they answered her call.

Lucien swore at the sheer number of spirits suddenly surrounding them, looking every bit like he wanted to take several steps back. “Mother help me. Can you… talk to them?”

“Yes,” Nesta answered. She couldn’t blame him for his reaction; the dead were eerie, especially if you couldn’t communicate with them like her. “What would you like me to ask them?”

“If they know anything about what’s inside,” Lucien told her. 

“Tell me what you know,” Nesta demanded of the nearest ghost.

There was an explosion of chatter, so chaotic that Nesta knew from the first few moments that none of them truly knew anything. They were all rushing to speak over one another, but even when she managed to sort through all the noise it was clear that none of them had been privy to the High Lord’s magical choices – neither Rhysand nor any of his predecessors. “Nothing helpful.”

“Fine,” Lucien said with a sigh. He raised his hands, his fingertips shining with gold as he started probing the wards for weak spots. “Let’s just do it, then. On my mark.”

Nesta waited with bated breath for Lucien’s permission, letting her power stir through her veins until he told her to strike. She held out her palms and aimed for the gleaming doors, the majority of her magic slamming against an invisible barrier while a small amount managed to actually penetrate. 

“Good,” Lucien complimented. “Ready to go again?”

“Yes,” Nesta answered, only the slightest bit out of breath. She’d gotten so used to using magic in her everyday life that expending a large blast like that didn’t completely deplete her energy anymore. “In the same spot?”

“No, go there,” Lucien instructed. He did a complicated motion with his hands and the air glimmered right where he wanted Nesta to aim, a little to the right from her first strike. “Now!”

Nesta aimed and fired before she could second-guess herself, immensely satisfied when most of her magic made it through to slam against the doors. The entire mountain seemed to shake for a few harrowing moments before settling, and she exchanged a wary glance with Elain before turning back to the task at hand. “Again?”

“One more should do it,” Lucien confirmed. “On my mark again.”

This time when Nesta hit her target, there was a sound like glass shattering as she finally broke through the wards completely. She commanded the spirits forward and they surged inside the palace, eagerly seeking out whatever lurked inside. 

“Amazing,” Elain murmured, making Nesta blush. “Let’s go inside. I’m freezing.”

Lucien extinguished the tiny fire at their feet before taking the lead, wreathing his palms in his autumn flames as they slowly made their way inside the palace. Nesta did the same, her hands burning cold with her silver flames, while Elain brought up the rear. Their steps echoed off the high, domed ceilings, and the fae lights glittered to life as they slowly made their way further inside. 

It was obvious that they were the only ones inside the palace — maybe even the first to come inside it for years. Although the palace was likely enchanted to remain clean, the air felt too still, like it had been too long since anyone had come inside. Nesta couldn’t smell any freshly-made scents, but just to be sure, she reached for more of her magic to sense if anything felt alive nearby. 

“There’s no one here but us,” Nesta whispered, feeling the urge to remain quiet even though she knew they were alone. “What do we do now?”

Lucien’s golden eye whirred as he looked around the palace, taking a few moments to check for any unfortunate surprises before he responded. “I suppose whatever we like. It’s ours now.”

✵✵✵✵✵✵

It didn’t take long to stake their claim on the moonstone palace. Lucien played around with the wards some more, keying them to Nesta’s blood as fast as he could before someone from Velaris showed up, while Elain did the sensible thing and actually locked the doors behind them. 

“I’ll show you how to do this yourself later, if you like,” Lucien promised once they were done. “It’s a useful skill to have.”

“I would,” Nesta agreed. “Elain, too, when you get the chance.”

They spent the rest of the day exploring the palace. Nesta had never been inside the giant structure, and she couldn’t believe Keir hadn’t taken advantage of such a lovely place. The moonstone shone even more beautifully after sunset, and the palace was clearly spelled to keep its inhabitants warm despite all the large, open windows. She didn’t have much interest in taking Rhysand’s family jewels — nor did she want to sleep in what was clearly his room — so she contented herself with choosing a room at the top of one of the domed spires on the opposite end of the palace. 

Beautiful patterns were carved right into the ceiling, and the large windows were covered with a similarly patterned lattice. There was an enormous bed pushed against the center of the wall complete with the largest canopy she’d ever seen, and she had her own private bathroom, closet, and sitting area. The view this high up was lovely, all snow-capped peaks and vast expanses of sky, and she let herself 

It might not have been the biggest room in the palace, but it was perfect for Nesta. 

After taking a much-needed bath, Nesta plaited her hair back from her face, rummaged around in the wardrobe for acceptable loungewear, and eventually found her way to the dining room. Lucien and Elain seemed to have a similar idea and were already waiting for her, the two of them chatting quietly before she came to join them. 

“I’m starving,” Nesta announced, unceremoniously plopping into the closest chair. “What is there to eat?”

“You do know the palace is enchanted to you now,” Lucien replied dryly. He’d taken off his black coat to reveal a white tunic underneath, and he’d rolled up his sleeves to reveal his golden-brown forearms. “Summon us up something, my lady.”

“Fine,” Nesta responded with a huff. She conjured up a steaming hot platter of rice, fish, and a vast assortment of vegetables. “Happy?”

“Thrilled,” Elain told her with a little smile. The ends of her hair were still damp from her bath, and she’d changed into a similar outfit as Nesta. “Thank you, Nesta.”

They fell into silence as they ate, Nesta feeling much better after her gnawing hunger was finally sated. “Have either of you explored the palace much?”

“The libraries here are beautiful,” Elain answered, her brown eyes twinkling with excitement. “And the courtyards here are stunning. I’m not sure what will grow this high up, but I’m sure my magic can help.”

“We can focus on the logistics of moving the servants and staff here tomorrow,” Lucien added. “Their quarters are much larger here than in the Hewn City, and I found an enchanted passageway while I was looking around the lower levels. It shouldn’t be too difficult to move back and forth once we figure out how it works.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Elain smiled so sweetly at Lucien that even Nesta had to look away. “I don’t mind coordinating some of the logistics with the staff. I’ve gotten to know them a little since I left Velaris, and Nesta will be too busy to worry about it anyway.”

“Thank you,” Nesta replied gratefully. “That would be lovely.”

They talked amongst themselves for another quarter of an hour before Nesta started yawning. She excused herself and made her way back upstairs, pulling a few ghosts away from where they’d been standing guard so they could watch over her as she slept. It had been a long day, and while she trusted Lucien’s magical abilities, she could never be too careful. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

The next morning, Nesta ate a quiet, solitary breakfast in the palace before winnowing directly into her chambers in the Hewn City. Eislyn and a few other handmaidens shrieked in surprise, and Nesta spent the next few moments apologizing profusely for the fright. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think any of you would be in here,” she said as they helped her dress. Today’s outfit was another black gown, her sleeves delicately resting off her shoulders and revealing a good amount of her neck and collarbones. 

“It’s alright, my lady,” Eislyn answered. Her brown hands moved quickly and with certainty as she swept half of Nesta’s hair back into a series of loose braids. “We heard about the moonstone palace. It’s truly ours?”

“Yes,” Nesta confirmed with a smile. She couldn’t help it, especially not after she heard her other handmaidens’ excited whispers. “My sister will be coordinating the logistics. Would you mind assisting her?”

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Eislyn quickly agreed. “I’ve never left the Hewn City. It would be an honor to do it for you.”

Once Nesta was prepared for the day, Eislyn quickly took charge of the other handmaidens before leaving to find Elain. Caolàn was waiting for her outside her door, and he inclined his translucent head in her direction before they made their way toward the throne. 

So it’s true then? he asked. You’re opening up the palace to us all?

“Yes,” Nesta answered. “Did Keir never…?”

Caolàn snorted. He barely opened the Hewn City to us, let alone his prized palace. Most of us have never ventured far from this place.

“That will change, if I have anything to do with it,” she said decisively. 

They didn’t have time for any further conversation once they arrived in the throne room. Nesta waited for her full title to be announced before striding over to the new throne, thoroughly impressed by the snakes carved into it and their gleaming, emerald eyes. She’d been called a viper for so long that she figured she might as well own it, and it felt good to settle into the new seat knowing she was the first person on it. 

Her day passed in a blur of meetings, mostly soothing the merchants’ fears about trade arrangements now that Keir was gone. Lucien slipped in at one point and helped Nesta fend off the would-be replacement courtiers, already circling for their chance to replace the ones she’d beheaded, and before Nesta knew it, the sun was already low in the sky. 

She turned to say something to Lucien about retiring for dinner, but then she felt a little tug in her ribcage as someone new entered the Hewn City. Even if they didn’t have that strange connection between them, she was so attuned to the spirits here that they practically tripped over themselves to report Cassian’s presence. 

Nesta sighed, not sure what he wanted, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt anyway. If this was some ploy on Rhysand’s behalf, he’d made a mistake sending his general here. If it wasn’t… well. She supposed she’d deal with that too. 

“That will be all for today,” she said to the various fae in the room. “Give me the room.”

Nesta caught Lucien’s eye and subtly shook her head. He bowed his head slightly and backed away from where he’d been standing next to her, moving into one of the corners of the room as the rest of the small crowd slowly cleared out. Her heart raced in her chest of its own accord; part of her couldn’t believe Cassian was really coming, but an even bigger part of her refused to let herself hope. He’d stood by all that time and allowed her to suffer — why would things be any different now?

Thankfully, it didn’t take much longer for him to appear. Caolàn had already disappeared to tell the rest of the guards to be on high alert, and he reappeared by her side moments before a living guard announced Cassian’s entrance into the throne room. 

Cassian’s eyes were wide as he took in the changes she’d made, but he eventually made his way closer to her. He had on a nicer set of leathers, his traditional Illyrian blade sheathed at his back, and even Nesta had to admit how handsome he looked with his hair curling loosely around his shoulders. His siphons gleamed ruby in the low light, but even that wasn’t enough to distract her from the angry bruising around his knuckles. 

“Cassian,” Nesta eventually said, tilting her head as she continued to study him. She didn’t know whether Lucien’s words had gotten to him or not, but there was only one way to find out. “Tell me. Have you come to bend the knee? Or did you want to die by my hand?”

Cassian didn’t answer right away, clearly taking a few moments to steel himself before speaking. “I…”

“Yes?” she prompted, leaning forward on her throne. A flash of silver caught her attention by the doors as she noticed Elain enter the room, but she didn’t let herself get distracted for long. 

“I’ve come to bend the knee,” Cassian told her after a long few moments. He slowly made his way to the floor, his hands resting gently on his thighs as he bowed his head. “Your Grace.”

“How do I know this isn’t one of Rhysand’s little schemes?” she asked. She stood from her throne and descended from the raised platform, stopping right in front of him. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Cassian.”

“It’s not,” he replied. He snapped his head up to meet her gaze, his hazel eyes glittering with something she couldn’t place. “I promise.”

“You’ve made me lots of promises,” she countered with a tilt of her head. “You promised you’d protect me, and I was forced into the Cauldron. You promised me time, but you abandoned me the moment we returned to Velaris. I’m sure you can understand why your promises don’t mean much to me anymore.”

Cassian winced. “I know I’ve failed you, but I’m here because it’s going to be different this time. I want it to be different this time.” 

“You didn’t want things to be different before?” Nesta asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is that why you chose everyone else except me?”

“I don’t want anyone else,” he argued, his hands balling into fists against his thighs. “I want you , Nesta. It’s been you from the moment we met.”

“That’s not how everyone else sees it,” she countered. “Least of all Morrigan.”

“She shouldn’t have acted like that, and I shouldn’t have let her,” he responded emphatically. “I knew that — we both did — and I’m sorry. But I know what I want, and that’s you. However you’ll have me, whatever it takes.”

“Prove it,” she told him, heart pounding wildly in her chest. She didn’t know what he would do, what he could possibly say to ease the hurt of never choosing her, but she was curious to see how he would try.

Cassian didn’t hesitate to follow her command, his fingers moving quickly as he removed his siphons. Nesta had to force herself not to react; she’d never seen him without them, never presumed he’d allow himself to be so vulnerable. He placed six of them in a neat row at her feet before he removed the one in the center of his chest, raising it in cupped hands like an offering. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of your trust, given what I’ve done to you,” he began quietly. “I’ve treated you far, far worse than you’ve ever deserved, and I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to take my head for it now. But I want to be by your side in any way you’ll have me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn that privilege. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize that.”

“That’s the only thing you’re sorry for?” she asked, her tone a little incredulous.

“No. No, it’s not.” He took a deep breath before continuing, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “I… I was so cruel to you, Nesta. I said horrible things to you, I didn’t listen to what you wanted, and I let my family make everything worse. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

It was everything she’d ever wanted to hear, and coupled with the image of Cassian on his knees before her, it was almost too much to bear. 

“Oh, Cassian,” Nesta eventually murmured, bringing a hand up to cup the side of his face. He leaned into her touch with a happy little noise, his eyes fluttering shut, and she allowed herself to enjoy that for the space of a breath before she leaned in close. “I’ll allow you the chance to prove yourself to me. But if this is some elaborate ruse, or you decide to betray me later… I won’t be the one who’s sorry. I will put your head on a spike and deliver it to Rhysand myself. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Cassian breathed. He raised his arms higher to offer his chest siphon to her once again. “If you’d have me, I’d pledge myself to you and only you.”

Nesta let go of his face and took the siphon from him without comment. It was larger than the other six and warm to the touch as she ran her fingers over it. “Do it, then.”

“I swear to ward the queen, with all my strength, and give my blood for hers,” he said. She didn’t recognize the words, but they sounded like something he’d memorized; perhaps the oath had come from Illyria, or maybe some other time he’d sworn fealty. “I— I shall guard her secrets. Obey her commands. Ride at her side and defend her name and honor.”

“I accept,” she said back. Her magic was roaring to be released, and she saw the perfect opportunity to free it. “In exchange, I’ll allow you to come and go from the Court of Nightmares freely. With your head intact.”

“I accept your bargain,” he told her. Magic flared hot between them as their promise to one another was inked onto their skin. She didn’t know where the ink had settled on him, but she felt the skin at the center of her back burn as the bargain marked her there. 

“Why did you stutter?” Nesta asked once the bargain between them had settled, curious. 

Cassian’s cheeks flushed. “There are… other lines I didn’t think were appropriate.”

“What are they?”

“To take no wife, hold no lands, or father any children.”

“I see.” Nesta couldn’t help her smirk, but there was no need to embarrass him further. She’d made her point. “Perhaps we’ll revisit those terms.”

“Thank you,” he responded, relieved. “I know I have a lot to make up for, but I hope one day…”

Cassian trailed off the moment Nesta raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“A wise choice.” Nesta looked down at the siphon still in her hands, reflecting ruby light as she tilted it one way and then the other. She’d never had the opportunity to examine them up close before, and it gave off a faint glow even though it wasn’t physically on his body anymore. “Are these easily replaceable?”

“Yes,” Cassian answered slowly. “I can always get more from Illyria.”

“Put the rest of them back on and stand up,” she told him. She kept examining his siphon while he did what she asked, his hands refastening them onto his body with ease. “Let’s go.”

Nesta didn’t bother to check if Cassian was following her, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he would. She let her feet guide her to one of the studies she favored because of the windows and stilled in the small patch of sunlight shining down from above. 

“My lady?” Cassian prompted from behind her after a few moments of silence. 

“Hush,” Nesta said, but she wasn’t harsh with the order.

Once she was satisfied that he would remain quiet, she looked down at the siphon in her hands. The red surface gleamed brightly in the sunlight, and she was struck suddenly by the urge to leave her mark on it somehow. She didn’t know much about how siphons worked other than channeling the Illyrians’ killing power, but she vaguely remembered hearing something about how not all magic could be harnessed with them. Feyre had mentioned a story once about Rhysand shattering several when he was still learning, and Nesta hoped that she would be able to accomplish yet another feat the High Lord couldn’t manage as she poured her magic into the gem. 

For a few moments nothing happened, and then Nesta gasped in wonder as the siphon was slowly overtaken by black. She had no idea what she was doing, but she knew she wanted everyone to know by looking at Cassian that he was hers , and this would serve as good a reminder as any. 

Once the siphon was wholly black, she turned around to face the newest member of her court. His eyes traveled over her face for a moment before snapping down to the siphon in her hands, shock lacing his features as he stared down at the jewel. “What…?”

“You’re sworn to me now,” Nesta said, reaching out with one hand to caress the empty spot where the siphon normally sat in the center of his chest. Cassian went so still under her touch that she idly wondered if he was still breathing. “Don’t you think everyone should know that?”

“You’re right,” he eventually said back. “They should.”

She allowed him to reach out and guide the hand holding his siphon to the empty spot on his chest, hardly breathing as they gently slid the siphon back into place. The rest of his siphons rumbled gently before settling into their usual calm state, and she felt her own magic stirring in her veins in response. 

“There,” Nesta whispered. She looked up at Cassian to see he was already looking at her, the intensity in those hazel eyes nearly too much to bear. “Now there’s no question of who you belong to.”

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[casitafallz]

LTRL AU |  Talking Between Relatives

Vera knew it’d take time for anyone—aside from Luisa—to come and visit her shop. It had been a day since she had spoken to her son, and she had fortunately seen Agustín leading his disgruntled wife through town during the morning to—she hoped— was Dr Lopez.

But she had thankfully caught one of the Madrigal she had seen rarely about since she had heard his return. So, she had invited him into her shop at lunch after most of the girls had hurried to eat with their families. The fact he had without a second invitation was a surprise, despite also not going home for lunch either but she was glad to see him sit down and she put together a cup of chocolate Santafereño and a few buñuelos she had since she didn’t like his too-thin frame.

Bruno sat, a little awkwardly but seemed to enjoy it, though seemed to knock on wood stool often which seemed to settle him more.

“How would you like to be addressed, Señor Madrigal or Bruno?” Vera asked politely, as she took a seat and picked up her own crocheting, and began to continue.  

Bruno looked up in surprise. “Er… Oh, Bruno’s fine.” He answered.

“Then feel free to call me Vera.” Vera smiled, “I’m glad you took up my offer.”

Bruno shrugged, “A…passing sleep vision last night showed I’d be here. I figured…I’d see what happens.”

Vera nodded but it made immediate sense. The man had no release from his gift, even in his sleep it seemed. “Well, I was hoping we could have a…talk in regards to your family. I can’t imagine it’s… all too easy.”

Bruno paused for a second. “Are you a therapist as well as a seamstress?” Bruno eyed her wearily. “Agustín said you were good at reading people…”

“I’m the youngest of seven, Bruno. I’ve learned to read people by necessity—my older siblings at the least—or risk losing food or personal objects… or getting tackled down a flight of steps by accident.”

“Seven?!”

“Well, there was more and after me but nature is not always kind.” Her mother never went into details so Vera didn’t pass that a second thought. “Nonetheless, I learned young and my mother taught me a lot as well. Was…your mother a single child or did she mention any siblings to you growing up?”

Bruno slurped on his mug thoughtfully. “No siblings, but her mother was a twin. She never talks about her mother or Tia; only that she had them. Wouldn’t you know if my mother had siblings? You came from the same town and you’re close in age, aren’t you?

“Same town but different ends of it.” Vera corrected, gently “Plus, she wasn’t a Madrigal when she was growing up. I can’t remember her maiden name at this point, however, I knew the Madrigal family well.”

That caught his attention, his eyes widening, “Wait, you knew my father?” He leaned forwards.

Vera hummed, not fully committedly. “Si, he belonged to a…small family. A sister and his parents. His family owned a shop close to ours, a bookshop, actually. His family would come in mostly for a new outfit every so often. We sold things a little cheaper so our store was more visited. His family was…known by the fact his father was pale and had such a mass of red hair.”

It was a…distant memory, but she hadn’t been part of the business to care about who came and went too much until she had started to pay attention to boys. But the redhead was easy to remember as they were so rare, more than the blondes. There had been an old woman with red hair and green eyes but Vera couldn’t remember what happened to her. She knew the woman’s family all had dark hair so who knew where her descendants ended up?

 “I… think Pedro was a writer? He loved reading. His father used to drag him to my parent's shop for new clothes but he always spent his money on books or notepads than his clothes until his sister cut the threads out of his shirt once to make a point on his spending habits.” Vera hadn’t realized she had stopped looking at the twig of a man until she had looked up from her wool work to see she had his full, wide-eyed attention.

“My…our grandfather was a redhead?” Bruno sounded a little excited at that. “At least we know where Pepa got her looks.” Bruno leaned forwards in both excitement and anxiety about her words, “He was a writer too? W-What did he write?”

Vera paused, though she felt…confused, did Alma not tell her son of his father or his paternal family?? She hardly felt like it was her place to feed her son information of a lost man when she should have done so. On the other hand… there must have been something to hold her back. Vera’s mind touched on her son, her lost son.

Grief.

It was almost annoying to hold the same reasoning but… she supposed that they all had their pain held in different places and in different degrees. Vera knew how to handle hers. She had bid her griefs farewells and let them come and go when they visited since. There was no true way to let it go. She had learned to cope… or risk being caught and left stranded and never moving forwards.

“It varied, I…never got involved in his work. Poems were his main interest but… his last few years, his work got more…political. He wanted to help out his town and to have more of a voice for them as well. But… typically people who got dabbled into politics or expressed their option too much were often sought out and killed.” It was sad to think about that, but she had to think that… the following of them that day their town went to the flame was not without purpose. People with influence or in a position of power were often tracked down and killed for their actions; it had been a common thing in the large, open towns and cities for that to happen. Vera looked up sharply, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…imply anything.”

Bruno’s face was…uneasy but oddly calm. “It’s fine.” He sucked in a heavy breath. “It just…. I never thought of it that way.”

“Your father’s death?”

“The senseless killing.” He knocked gently on his stool. “and yeah, that too. I…never thought there was a reason for it beyond terror…and war.”

“Encanto is a safe haven and it’s all you’ll ever know, Bruno,” Vera spoke. “Me, your mother… everyone who was part of the fleeing share burdens with that knowledge of what people will do for control and power. We were all just…civilians caught in the middle.”

“But…Pa died for a cause?”

“He…may have been a target for his public views, si, but you and your family were most likely his cause to protect from the moment he met your mother.” Vera didn’t want to diminish the man’s noble sacrifice; it was for his family and only that when the moment came down to it. An honorable, but brutal death.

“Does… did my Mother know about… what he wrote about?” He almost looked hopeful and conflicted at the same time at the idea.

“I assume so. He moved away when he married. I didn’t see him until he was leading the survivors away with your mother a year later.” She hadn’t even known he had died until morning, the spurt of magic had been a wonder and a distraction.

Bruno took another deeper sip of his drink. “Do you have many stories about him?”

“I do but… some don’t paint him in a positive light.” Vera was careful. “Why don’t you ask your mother for more stories?”

Bruno visibly deflated at her suggestion. “Mama never tells us the bad things, barely anything more than him being a good man who gave his life for us. It’s… hard to see him anything less than that. It’d…” Bruno hesitated, “It’d be nice to hear him more human and with flaws.”

Vera felt her resolve soften. It made sense… Alma put her husband’s memory on the highest of pedestals for all to see the good.

“Well, let’s make a deal, you help me find ways for your family to…get on the road to…stability and I’ll tell you all that I remember about your father and his family?” Vera offered, as much as she knew he’d want to hear more now… she’d have to steer the conversation to where she needed it to be. Less on the past, and more on the present.

Bruno hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing his options as he picked up one of the cheesy bread balls and ate it. “That is….acceptable, I suppose.”

“I am not the only one that knew him, I can point you to a few others who may have other stories as well.”

“Please do.” Bruno ran his hand through his hair, “So… where do we start?”

“Well, I’m not the one to go all the way back to the start of the issues, so I’ll go with the more recent stuff. So, to put some perspective on the matter; following the attack on Mirabel; Isa’s been punished and so, what has the rest of the family been doing the following nine months after that?” Vera questioned, continuing her work with the other blanket for the baby to remain busy with her hands. And, not to mention Isa would need a few spares from either spit up or poop so she’d happily make the girl a backup.

Bruno shrugged, setting his mug down in favor of his plate of fwood he put on his lap. “Well… I noticed they simply…carried on. A little less intense work in town but…it never overly changed. Mirabel was the one to push her mother away from the town's reliance on her gift which… was probably a smart idea.”

“How is she?”

“Who, Mirabel or Julieta?”

“Julieta.”

“I can’t say. I’ve… sort of stayed with Antonio and his animal friends a little mostly to avoid all the drama. He can talk to my rats you see and… it’s just nice to talk to someone who can actually help direct the rats to position.” Bruno seemed to lighten up more as he spoke, “He’s a...very bright kid.”

“I sense the lingering in your undertone, Bruno.” Vera looked up from the blanket, “Is Antonio alright, that should be addressed, I suppose. He’s young and… I suppose he can be easily missed in the mess that’s happened?” Perhaps Bruno’s hanging around also kept Antonio being exposed to such family messes.

Bruno nodded, “He seems alright. But, I suppose he misses how things used to be. I’ve…tried to explain that the family’s going through a tough time in knowing what to do. He thinks what’s happening is Isabela keeps getting into trouble or someone else is and doesn’t know the resolve. One thing after another.”

Vera nodded though she supposed that was a very one-sided thing that could be resolved quickly. “Why don’t you simply talk to Pepa or her husband about his feelings? I can’t imagine she’s realized among the mess.”

Bruno hesitated but nodded, “I suppose. Dolores wasn’t soft on them and… I think they’re doing better with her today at breakfast. They didn’t realize how…affected she is with her gift.”

Though there was no mistake he spoke with a sense of…familiarity. Vera could only assume it was a mutual feeling, given his own gift which she… didn’t care much for. It wasn’t relevant to her and so, didn’t care. She wasn’t the type to ask for a future. Why spoil her own future when patience was a virtue?

Though, looking at his scrawny face and dark eye shadows… he looked far rougher than he should.

“Then, as long as they keep their eyes on their children then it’s not our business. But, how are you handling this, Bruno?” Vera asked. “I can’t imagine it was easy to appear and get thrown into drama.”

The man in question shrugged. “I can handle it, just another day in La Casa Madrigal.”

“You’ve otherwise told me you’re hanging around with your five year old sobrino to hide away from the drama. Don’t you think that it would be…healthier that you shouldn’t resort to such methods for peace in your own home?” She set the last stitch on her work for now, to give him her proper attention. “You shouldn’t have to live that way, not because of your siblings or your mother. There is more to life than that.”

Bruno huffed out shortly, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Vera raised an unconvinced, sharp eyebrow up at him, tilting her head to look over the rim of her glasses. "Nine months and no improvement, it’s not fine and no one is willing to talk. I’m not above blackmail or bribery if it gets results.”

“Bribery? That won’t work.” Bruno snorted in amusement.

“So you wouldn’t like rat pockets in your ruana?”

Bruno paused, remaining still for a moment though she could see the wheels in his mind picturing such a thing with some degree of desire. His hand tugged on the front of the one he had. “I see your point.”

Vera smiled though she was glad to listen to Mirabel’s titbits about her family. Bruno and his rats were…common in her talks. She didn't doubt Mirabel already planned for that for him for his gift this Nochebuena.

“I think the problem in the family comes from one source and to solve the family issues, you need to start at the source. Your mother, Bruno.” Vera started, “I hope you’re not too offended on that?”

Bruno shook his head. “I’m not… but I don’t like hearing it. I know…that you’re right. I’ve tried to tell Mama but…it’s hard.” Bruno picked up another Buñuelo, tearing it in half and slowly began to chew. “She doesn’t listen for long.”

“Then she needs a motivation to change…one that doesn’t risk anyone in the family.”

Bruno shook his head uncomfortably. “I… know your intent is good, Vera but…should you really be putting yourself into our family problems? You threw a fit when Luisa did…”

Vera inhaled deeply. “That is different. I have no intention to break into your home and catch anyone unawares. I don’t intend to force myself into a situation like that. I just need to shine a light on the problems and I can point out alternative methods to deal with the problem than your current methods. To do that, I need to understand. The one thing I’ve noticed is no one in your family is actually talking to each other. No talking, no solution.” Vera clarified. “Someone has to start talking.”

Bruno stared for a moment, though his eyes didn’t meet hers. “No one likes talking… it’s uncomfortable.”

“There’s always a breaking point, Bruno,” Vera replied, her voice soft. “Isa broke first. Who’s next?”

Bruno’s shoulders slumped “I hate that.”

“I know. But once it’s all out, feelings and…problems, the family may actually be able to move on. Be a family not treading on eggshells around each other...” Vera fiddled with her blanket. “Broken families drift apart. While I lost everyone, Bruno; my parents, my siblings, and the rest that never made it to Encanto so I’m not willing to allow a loss on such a scale to happen to my son’s family if there’s a way to stop it.”

“You took Isabela.”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean forever, she needed that just as much as the rest. The point is, the family needs to heal and they can heal their bonds with Isabela as well to the point she’s willing to return to Casita. As a family. Not by force, not when neither side is ready.” Vera pointed out, “Do you need your own vision to see how that might end if the family try that?”

Bruno’s expression didn’t change too much though he nodded. “You have a point.”

“All that’s needed, Bruno, is for the family to be forced to talk; about their problems to their parents and for them to figure out how to fix them. No matter how messy. Apologies, if they’re needed. Your mother should be part of that because she has such an influence over the household.”

That wrinkled his nose. “I’ll…think about it.”

“Then, that is all I can ask.”

  -

Isabela gently kept her foot down on the treadle, the wheel spinning and the cotton fluff in between her finger tightened into yarn. Simple, yarn than anything fine like a thread. The motion was predictable and soothing and the sound of the wheel echoed in the silence of her room.

Her heart ached but there was little she could do. Her mind mulling on one thing

No one had seen Mateo since yesterday morning when Luisa had returned him home.

Abuelita had said she had gone to ask for him but… she came back worried. This meant the real possibility he was left to heal if he was still alive, but… Abuelita had no authority to demand entry to see him. Dolores hadn’t raised an alarm either which was… another concern. She wouldn’t notice one less person missing from the town. She could have slept through what happened to him easily.

A part of her itched to go to Casita; for her Tio. If he could see his future and where he was or…if there was no future to be found. She should do that.

But she couldn’t bring herself to leave her home.

Who knew if Camilo had told the town? Was going out really the risk she was willing to take?

Trying to seek out Mateo herself was another thought. But…confronting his sister would be worse if she found out about the baby. It…would be worse to…put herself and risk the child too. She couldn’t do that. Mateo wouldn't want that; for her or for it.

“Isa,” Abuelito’s voice echoed behind her door. “Someone is here to see you.”

Isa kept going. “I’m busy.”

“Isa.”

Her hands paused as she heard Luisa’s voice, the plants in range turning sharp and prickly before a cactus popped up close by. She heard the door open but she didn’t turn to face it so instead, she stopped her bobbin and reset to start on making sewing thread.

“Abuelito, can you remove Luisa? I have no interest to talk to her, regardless of what she has to say.” Isabela asked, forcing her tone to be polite.

“Isa—“

“Shut up, Luisa.”

“No,” Abuelito stepped forwards calmly, "Angry as you are, you speak with respect in this house.”

Isabela turned from her wheel to his stern face. “Sorry, Abuelito.” She didn’t give her middle sister a second glance as she picked up her near-empty basket of cotton, though this time began to reform small puffs between her fingers and dropped them into the bottom. “I don’t want an apology. I don’t want you in my room, Luisa and unless you’re willing to locate the father of my child, I do not want you to talk to me. Please leave.”

“Child?” the echo of confusion was soft but thankfully, she heard Abuelito speak softly and their doorway steps echoed before the familiar clip signaling that her door shut.

  -

Mirabel looked up as she saw Luisa return to Casita, her shoulders slumped, and looking very pink in the face like she was about to cry. Mirabel’s hands tightened on her bag of sewing supplies she had though she already had a sinking feeling that tonight's festivities weren’t going to go well.

She knew that Luisa had wanted to go down and apologize, to hopefully bring Isa up to Casita to the party but… clearly something went wrong. Back far too quickly and Isabela-less.

“Did it not go well?” Mirabel asked, drifting from the steps.

Luisa shook her head, her eyes welling up. “She wouldn’t even talk to me. Or look at me.” Luisa swallowed thickly.

“Ah.” Mirabel reached forwards and gently hugged her. “Give it a few days, we both know Isa hangs onto grudges.” Harmless grudges but grudges nonetheless. “At least Abuelito let you try.”

“Yeah…”

Mirabel tugged Luisa to the kitchen, where her mother was working diligently by the stove, talking quietly with their father though…he was doing more of the talking. The creases in his face suggested concern but Mirabel led her older sister to prep the house for festivities.

“Let’s not dwell on that tonight,” Mirabel decided. “Let’s put up the decorations and see about distracting Camilo before he eats all the food.” It would be a good thing and be done by the time the food and party start.

“I...suppose but  she said something and I…can’t stop thinking about it.” She plucked up the huge stack of plates, leaving behind Isa’s one on the shelves.

“Oh?”

The table was set up outside on the patio and lanterns was already up, or being put up by Tio Felix and Antonio. Parce was lounging on the floor, chewing an animal’s leg from a recent hunt.

“She…mentioned that… she has a child?”

Mirabel almost dropped the bowl she was carrying. “What?”

Luisa looked around, clearly being careful. “She’s…probably lying but she mentioned a child and the fact I should locate the father as the means for me to actually have a conversation with her.” She set the stack down. “I know she’s upset but…”

“She’s not lying.” Dolores seemed to appear out of nowhere, looking in better spirits. “She’s pregnant and surprisingly far along but Abuela’s not yet to know. So keep this from Antonio and Camilo if you can help it.”

Mirabel stared at her cousin for a long moment though she felt almost winded at the news.

Isabela. Pregnant.

Oh.

Oh.

Now she could see why Isabela was so pissed at Luisa. She herself knew nothing of…the father or anything but if Luisa had interfered somehow… then it affected this…baby too…

“Wait, when did you find out?”

“I’ve heard the heartbeat for months.” Dolores shrugged, “but… it’s only recently she’s known. She had Marquez around to tell him the news.”

Luisa groaned softly, sinking her face into her hands. “That was what I was seeing?”

“Yes.” Dolores’s tone was cooler. “You’re not going to earn back any favors with Isa any time, Luisa. She’s furious.”

Luisa’s head rose, “I can wait…. I just…” She huffed out and walked away back through the door.

Mirabel and Dolores watched her for a long moment before she saw Dolores step to face her, hesitating to touch her arm for a moment. “Sorry for dropping the news on you.”

“I can keep a secret.” God forbid, she had learned from the last time when Isa was involved. “Is…Isa okay with you telling?”

“She expects the family to know at some point but… not for Abuela yet. Your Abuelita’s concerned about how much stress she’s under. The child won’t survive if it’s born too early because of that.”

“What are you two talking about?” Camilo’s voice echoed as he carried a stack of wine glasses, “plotting a prank?”

“No, we’re not you.” Dolores quipped playfully. “We were talking about…Luisa’s mishap with Isabela.” The lie was not too far from the truth, though it made her wince but she’d go along with her story. For Isa’s sake here.

Camilo scoffed, rolling her eyes. “She needs to get over herself.”

“She thinks you spilled to the town about it.” Dolores pointed out, “Lay off her, Camilo.”

“Look, if she's going to screw around then she shouldn’t be upset that she got found out. Luisa did her a favor.” Camilo shrugged, “She shouldn’t be so mad at her.”

Mirabel exhaled out, hating how close to home that phrase was. “She had justification for her anger, Camilo. Stop prodding the cactus.”

Camilo scowled lightly. “So do you, Mirabel. Why are you sticking up for her?”

“Because I want to.” Mirabel snapped, her voice rising to her own surprise which only grew as she felt the hot flush of anger rise to the surface. “Stop going back to that day, Camilo. I am angry. I am downright furious at my sister for what she did. I won’t let my anger get the best of me. I am not ready to shout at her more than she is ready to bare it. There is a time and a place for that. Not now and certainly not any time soon. All I want is to talk to her, be alone with her and actually bond with her.”

“The risks—“

“I’m not done talking.” Mirabel snapped over Camilo sharply, very aware of the eyes on her. “I want to actually move on. I don’t want your weight of concern to keep holding me back so let me decide when I am ready to talk to her. I don’t want any more hand-holding and I don’t want to be spied on to make sure I’m safe. It’s exhausting trying to find privacy and I’m sick of it.” She turned and stormed back inside, not even noticing Abuela through the window

[keggerk]

Does this app get used by anyone anymore?

If it doesn’t, cool, free place to put my thoughts.

If it does, I hope whoever’s reading is doing well.

It’s been a long time since I felt like writing anything here so here’s a little life update.

My roommate moved out about 6 months ago. I miss having him here sometimes, but I’m so happy for him and his girlfriend. I love that man like my own brother and it’s so amazing to see them doing life together.

My job has been nuts. I’ve finally reached a level in my career where I have sway, I can make a difference in my company, in others lives. I genuinely enjoy the work I’ve been doing and I’m so excited when I hear that the work we do has helped someone improve their business. A client sent me a watch as a thank you. I cried.

I’m finally getting out there and seeing the world. Granted, I’ve been limited to this country, but Portugal is coming up soon. It’s hard to believe 3 years ago I’d never been on a plane. I flew over 30,000 miles last year. Sure it was mostly for work, but it’s exciting nonetheless.

The downside with a lot of work travel: dating has been tough. There’s been a few times I genuinely thought things were going somewhere, but the timing just hasn’t been right. At the end of the day: the right thing at the wrong time is the wrong thing.

Outside of work, I’ve loved being an uncle. My niece is adorable and too smart to believe for a 4 year old. Spoiling her with gifts for Christmas and her birthday has been fun, and that smile when she says “Uncle Joey!” Takes all the stress away. I’m so glad my relationship with my sister has improved over the years. My family in general. I’ve never been closer with Tiffany, and I’m glad we’ve gotten to this point.

Same goes with Suzie, albeit to a much lesser extent. I don’t see her enough, but I think that’s mostly because she lives in the city and she’s engaged. That’s okay though. She’s actually happy and I’m so glad. Her fiance is dope and I actually like this dude a lot.

Dads good. He’s working from home, thank god. His new condo can be a pain at times, but I think he genuinely loves having a place he can truly call his own finally. When grandpa died, I was really worried. When Jeff died, I really didn’t know what was going to happen. Knowing he has a safe, comfortable, accessible place brings such peace of mind. He’s losing weight too, which is phenomenal. His aches and pains were getting to be a problem, and the fact he’s finally addressing it and taking care of himself is massive.

I’ve been reading a ton. I’ve already read 3 books this year, looking to read 30 by the end of 2024. It’s been a nice way to unwind after work. My healths been improved over the past year. I’ve been able to stop seeing the cardiologist every 3 months finally.

I play in a darts league every week on a team with my sister, brother in law, and some family friends. It’s been a nice hobby. Between that and baseball card collecting, I’ve been able to keep my hobbies safe and relatively cost-aware lol.

My friends are all in a bit of a transition period. It’s strange. If someone had told me I’d be in the most stable position of most of my friends a few years ago I wouldn’t have believed it. I’m happy to be here for support for all of them. I’m excited to see what these next chapters will be.

All in all though, I’m happy. I find myself smiling in moments to myself sometimes. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern… It may be the coldest day of the year, what does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.” - Frank O’Hara

[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

[zodiyack]

Niffler’s New Discovery

Requested by anon: May I request a the youngest Shelby sister x Newt Scamander story? The Shelby sister is nothing like her siblings. She’s shy, reads books like they’re oxygen, loves animals, and doesn’t drink, smoke, or anything like that. She doesn’t even swear, she’s so pure. She also loves his animals. And Tommy acts like her father but she loves her brother very much. Same as her other brothers. They find out she’s dating him and get all overprotective. Sorry if this is too specific. I just love the idea of a Shelby sister who’s nothing like her siblings. Because most of the Shelby reader fics always have them smoking and all that. Which they are fun to read, but it’s nice to see something different. Feel free to pick the Scenario. :)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Female!Shelby!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (not from reader ofc :)) slight suggestiveness (also not from reader), fluff, ✨m a g i c✨

Words: 1,303

Summary: (See Request...also I thought the gif was cute, so anon, I based it off the gif kinda)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox​, @i-love-superhero​

Masterlist | Fantastic Beasts (AWTFT) Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, they had no problem keeping their relationship hidden from her overly protective family, but the troublemaker Newt constantly had to chase down and return to his case was the thing that exposed them. The bloody Niffler just loved things that shined. Who could blame it though? It was it’s nature.

Just as it was the Shelby brothers nature to react the way they did. Violent, perhaps, but of their nature. Their possessive, over the top protective, shitty, big brother, nature.

And it all started, one late afternoon...

The older Shelby trio, not counting Ada with her age advance over John, returned home after a nice night out at the pub. Sure, the sun hadn’t set yet, but Pol wanted them to return home a little earlier today for a family meeting. The meeting included everyone, minus the innocent angel whom the Shelbys called their sister.

It was the perfect time to have Newt over. The perfect time to explore the secret world hidden inside his little brief case. If only they knew the pesky Niffler had been waiting.

“Are you sure they won’t suspect anything of my presence?” Newt hesitated, one foot hovering above the wooden flooring of Y/n’s bedroom, the other resting on the rooftop outside her window.

She ushered him in the rest of the way, making sure to lock her door after checking that no one was around. “Positive. Family meetings take a while, so we’re good on time. How about you? Are you sure this is good with the council?”

He had a guilt-ridden look across his face as he looked around. “There are some things the council doesn’t have to know.” A nervous laugh rumbled in his throat before he cleared it and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh huh... Well, just promise me that you won’t get into any serious trouble for this, alright Newton?” The blushing hufflepuff gave his lover a quick nod, as well as a smile in return for the little peck she placed upon his cheek, pinkening his skin further down his neck- it was no surprise that Newt was terribly new to receiving affection from anything other than his beasts that resided in his case.

“S-shall we be going?” He broke the tension, gesturing to the case in front of them.

“Boys.” Polly stopped the bickering that had started up between John and Tommy, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling, the trios’ following. “Your sister’s been awfully quiet.”

John cackled, “Oh no, maybe she snuck out, went to have a quick fuck with some guy off the streets, didn’t she Pol?” His rather sarcastic tone suggested his knowledge that the referenced behavior was most certainly unlike his little sister, but the immaturity of John Shelby simply couldn’t resist making a joke.

Polly, however, was in no mood for John’s incessant kidding. Her hand met the back of his head, a disapproving furrow of her brows telling him to stop talking. “I’m being serious, you idiot. It’s more quiet than usual.”

“And what about it, Pol?” Tommy spoke after taking a drag from his cigarette, an eyebrow quirked.

“If she really does have a boy up there, he better pray he’s out the window by the time we get up there.”

Tommy’s brow, lowered after asking Polly how she’d respond, lifted back once again. “There’s no God for him to pray to, Arthur. The boy is fucked, plain and simple.”

“In more ways than one.”

John’s childish cackles were hushed into silence, a slap sounding throughout the room prior to their ceasing. A hand rubbing the back of his head, John glared at his aunt, yet continued the discussion of what to do with Y/n nonetheless.

The past ten minutes had been spent trying to block off any and all exists for the pesky little Niffler. Each time it attempted to escape the bedroom, Y/n or Newt were quick to block it off. It amazed Y/n how many places the little creature could scurry off through. Unfortunately, with their wild-goose-chase, footsteps turned to stomps...well, really running, but downstairs it was more likely to sound aggressive, such as the hard thud of a Blinder’s boot on the floor of the Garrison.

It was inevitable; the possibility of being caught, but the fact seemed to slip their minds as they both tried to corner the Niffler, as well as capture it once more. Every shiny thing, ranging from jewelry to bullet casings, or things that caught her eye, made into décor (gifted from her brothers, as she would never touch a gun unless need be) were being stolen as the creature evaded capture.

Newt shot Y/n a sorry look each time one of her belongings were snatched up by the Niffler. It touched her heart, truly, it did, but now was not the time to swoon. Y/n froze as the Niffler wandered over to a bottle. Wine? Champagne? She didn’t know; Y/n never drank- the bottle was a gift from her sister in law, which she couldn’t turn down without upsetting her, so it soon became another...decoration.

Atop the bottle was shimmery, gold-like, wrapping. Of course it caught the mischievous little shine-thief’s eye. It pulled and pulled, Y/n and Newt made eye contact as the uneasy feeling in their guts mirrored, until POP!

The door broke open with a loud bang, Arthur standing confused before getting both a Niffler and a cork to the space between his brows. While Y/n flinched, Newt only looked away in shame.

“What. The. Literal. Fuck. Was. That?” John gapped. His usual remark would be to poke fun, but he too was in great shock, he couldn’t even think of anything humorous.

“A- ...A Niffler.” Newt stuttered. His rather shy demeanor was rarely common around Y/n, so she new he was slightly uncomfortable the second his hand lifted to itch the back of his neck as his eyes found interest in the floorboards.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” John narrowed his eyes at the timid wizard.

It was unusual for Y/n to get angry, but the unjustness of John’s attitude toward her lover didn’t sit well with her. “Leave him alone!”

Now there was more to be shocked about. “I- what?”

“You heard me, John. You, Arthur, and Thomas. Leave Newt alone. He didn’t mean for this to happen, so he shouldn’t be harassed by you three. Want to question him? Have Pol do it, but the second you come to my room and bully my lover is the second you cross the line.”

Tommy, amused, let out a little chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.

“Something funny to you, Thomas? ‘Cause I don’t think any of us are laughing.”

 “No, sister, nothing is of humor to me.” He muttered despite dawning a lopsided smirk. Tommy looked at his brothers and nodded his head toward the stairs before walking away. Although he was leaving, he never said he wouldn���t poke at the boy some more. Now just wasn’t worth it; he was already shaking in his boots as it is.

“Tommy- where- where’re you goin’?” John did a double take, following shortly after.

Arthur rubbed the red spot where he’d been nailed by the creature and it’s new favorite possession, proved by it cuddling the cork close to it’s body on the floor where it had landed after hitting Arthur. He excused himself politely before walking in the same direction as his brothers, still rubbing at his soon-to-be-bruising injury all the way down.

Newt took the opportunity to grab the niffler and tickle Y/n’s possessions from his tummy before running over and tucking him in the case. The anger faded from Y/n’s eyes as she watched her lover. “It looks as though the Niffler has discovered something new.” Newt chuckled lightly, easing up slowly.

“New indeed.”

[the-hidden-pages]

Misread Affections - Laszlo Kreizler/Fem!Reader SMUT

I started at midnight. I had 0 words. It’s 4:30am. I have 4643 words because I have fallen deeply for Doctor Laszlo Kreizler. Forgive me for this.

Synopsis: With all your history together, you and Doctor Kreizler believe you understand each other. Yet when you believe him to be infatuated with Karen Stratton, and he believes you to have affection for Marcus Isaacson, you’re both stunned when you find yourselves to be proven wrong.

Warnings: NSFW. Desk Sex. Dirty Talk. Patient-to-Friend-to-Lover. Definite depression and general self-loathing.

SPOILERS FOR THE SECOND SEASON!!!!!!

You had always admired the man Doctor Laszlo Kreizler was.

He championed those who could not champion themselves. He worked tirelessly to understand the minds of criminals. To those very same criminals, and many others that lived as outcasts to society, he would offer kindness and understanding. At his best he was beyond intelligent and, daresay, sweet.

At his worst, he was ruthless, and his own self-loathing would have him come across as unempathetic most days. While preaching to others to care for himself, he would often forego his own care. While offering an ear and a receptive mind, he would refuse to offer himself the same.

You knew this within mere days of knowing Doctor Kreizler. And such facts made you rather fond of him.

A fondness that was not helped by his handsome build, his dark locks, his scrutinizing gaze.

And yet no part of you could justify ever acting upon this fondness.

You had come to him both as a patient and a colleague. You had always been aware of a darkness within yourself, ever since you were a child. This darkness had only grown, too often all-consuming, leaving you. a dysfunction wreck of a human being. However, you had an obligation to keep going, a promise you had sworn to your sister to continue your own existence. So, exist you did.

While your family’s fortune wasn’t enough to send you to Harvard, like the Doctor himself, it did allow for you to be a reasonably educated woman of the times. A deep fascination in understanding your own darkness led you to the work of alienists, and eventually to the work of Doctor Kreizler.

While you couldn’t often justify breaking societal rules to such an extent, you found yourself motivated enough to call upon the Doctor with a proposition – should he aide you in understanding your own illness of the brain, you would offer any services you could to the Kreizler Institute.

You could tell he was curious of you. A woman of your standing did not often make such demands with such authority, nor so blatantly admit to her own illnesses. He quickly agreed, eager to study why you considered yourself so damaged, and happy to take on an extra set of hands with the children he looked after.

Over time, you begun to slip effortlessly into Doctor Kreizler’s life.

You met the likes of Cyrus and Stevie, along with many others that worked at the Institute. You were then blown away by the strength within Miss Sara Howard, and the pure, undiluted love that Mister John Schuyler Moore could show others. You were even called upon on several occasions to be a fresh set of eyes, the murders of young boy prostitutes and kidnappings of babies not deterring you, to the surprise and reluctant joy of the Doctor.

And as Doctor Kreizler studied you, you studied him.

You slowly learned of all the emotion he kept hidden behind the façade of professionalism. The kindness, the love, the anger, the fear. While he showed none of these most days, occasionally a concoction of such feeling would burst in an overwhelming outpour.

In offering him a platonic safe space, a place for him to talk through such outbursts should he wish, he in turn aided you.

The darkness you felt for so long began to subside some days, and between the efforts of him and a passing remark from John, you learned of an outlet for your darker thoughts – writing.

While expressing your own emotions and turmoil did not come easy, you found it far simpler when written down on paper, as opposed to spoken aloud to a judging room.

Doctor Kreizler gifted you a beautiful leather-bound journal a mere day after this revelation, with the request that you record your thoughts. He promised he would not read it unless you requested him to as an act of therapy.

For many days, you allowed him to read any thoughts that came to mind.

Thoughts of blood, of death, of pain and anger. Thoughts of a stolen childhood, of worthlessness, of longing.

Many days when he read your pages, you would be silently crying as he did, fearful of his judgement. But it never came.

Instead, he would close the book silently, and offer you professional advice.

One particularly rough day, in which your narrative was beyond vicious to you, he closed the book before finishing, and offered you something you didn’t expect – an embrace.

He hugged you so tightly, that for once…

Your inner monologue ceased.

His own, however, raged on.

How could you think so lowly of yourself, he wondered? While he could understand mindsets built from trauma, he couldn’t help but wish you could see yourself through his own eyes. Your empathy when you cared for the children in the Institute. Your intelligence when conversing with Miss Howard. Your artistic delight when laughing with John. And the perspective, the warmth you offered such a broken man such as himself.

Neither of you knew, in that exact moment, that the other was realizing the fondness you both held in your hearts for each other.

And neither of you knew how truly broken the other felt at their core.

Two souls, believing themselves to be undeserving of love, finding it in their hearts for the other.

When the beautiful, cunning Doctor Karen Stratton entered the picture, you asked Doctor Kreizler to refrain from reading your journal.

He was hurt by this, but profession and courtesy claimed that he could not show it.

You began to withdraw from him, placing your entire focus on the case of the stolen babies and your focus on the children in the Institute. Kreizler, in his own difficulties of potentially losing the said Institute, took notice of your own withdrawal from your sessions, but held enough hope that you had found stability to care for yourself. You still conversed with Sara, you smiled with John. You had even been introduced to the Isaacsons, and he had wondered if you had taken a liking to Marcus.

You deserved a young man such as him, he told himself, heart heavy. A whole, young man with enough strength to support you.

And on the night of Marcus’ death, he believed it to be confirmed.

He found you alone, in his study where you so often had your sessions with him. You were curled inwards on yourself, clutching your journal as though it were your lifeline, sobbing uncontrollably.

He moved to console you, arms holding you tightly.

“It’s all too much,” you choked out, unable to articulate much more.

 Doctor Kreizler nodded, waiting for you to be able to go on.

You regained some breath with difficulty. “I just…I can’t stand to lose a friend. Not after everything else lately.”

 “I know how difficult it can be, to lose one you love…” Kreizler began, not noticing how your sobs stopped in confusion. “After Mary, I…Well I swore I would never again…The point is, I-“ he stopped short.

You had spluttered out a laugh.

 Your hand covered your mouth immediately, noticing what had just happened. You immediately moved to cover it up, wiping away your tears and standing up away from him. “No, no, Doctor. Heavens, Marcus…well, he was loved but, I saw…I see the Isaacsons as brothers I never had. He was dear to me but…not in the sense I suspect that Mary was to you.”

 “I…see…” Doctor Kreizler pulled back, sitting in his study chair as he gazed at you. “Apologies, I seem to have misread your relationship. Nonetheless, his death has greatly affected you, as it has all of us. I suspect it will be a very difficult grieving process, but…” he manages a soft, rare smile that warmed your heart. “We will endure it together, as we have these cases.”

“Will we?” your voice grew empty as your thoughts swirled.

He titled his head, unsure of where this was leading. You gathered your courage to question him.

“Rumour has it, Doctor Stratton has asked you to join her in Vienna. I wonder if you’ll go.”

 Silence falls over the room.

 Laszlo couldn’t understand what this had to do with anything. Your crying, your distress over Marcus. What did his leaving have to do with any of your distress?

 “You’re greatly upset by something,” he eventually said, gazing at you with a more analytical eye than before. “I’m afraid you give me too much credit, if you think I know the specifics of it.”

“I-“ you stopped, clearing your throat as you choked up. Your knuckles turned white on your journal’s edges, hands shaking. “Doctor Kreizler-“

“It’s been months since we’ve known each other,” he interrupts, “and we haven’t held a session together in nearly five weeks. Would it pain you to call me Laszlo? Are we not…friends?”

You gaped at him, but his face remained unreadable.

  You shake your head. “Yes, it…it would pain me. It would pain me a great deal, Doctor – it does pain me a great deal to hear you call me a friend when…”

“When what?” he prompts you sharply, and you inhale quickly.

“When I feel I’ve been dishonest with you, unkind to you…” had the room not been dead still, Laszlo might have missed the next words you whispered. “I feel I’ve been perverse to you.”

 If he was confused, he didn’t show it. And you were talking now, the words spilling out, a cascade unable to end.

“I feel as though…had Marcus not…died…tonight, I might never have done this. But then my mind, it began spinning so quickly I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t help but imagine countless scenarios in which Libby, in which the Dusters, in which…well, in which any number of causes might take your life as well. In which you might die before…before I can confess…” You huff, your words getting caught once again. With a determined move, your arm shot out to pass your journal to him, and Kreizler takes note of a particular page being creased.

 He looks up at you, but you don’t meet his eye.

“I’ve marked where I want you to start reading. Just…go from there. Inform me when you’re finished.”

You walk over to the window, desperate to be distracted, as Doctor Kreizler opens the book and reads at your request.

           He can’t comprehend what he’s reading at first.

           While he had grown accustomed to your twisted perception of yourself, he hadn’t realized just how ruthless the self-loathing could take you. Endless doubt of your friendships with the team, with your position as a caretaker, in your abilities to be a friend.            And as words continue, he realizes your doubts in being a partner, a lover.

           If he grows flustered at the words he reads, he’s determined not to show it to you.

           He reads your envy of women like Sara Howard, able to move forward with such strength and certainty, and of Karen Stratton, so brash, so forward. Your envy is strong towards her, in her abilities to understand sexuality, passion, human desire, and in…

           In her connection to himself.

           His eyes widen as your own ramblings seem to uncover a truth you hadn’t explored before – your attraction to the Doctor that had aided you, offered you employment. The pure taboo of such affections, yet your inability to stop it. Your adoration, your admiration for the intimidating, raw man that he was. How you felt unworthy, that you would hold him back, that he deserved a woman as delightful as Doctor Stratton, a woman who could stimulate him academically, that could pleasure him physically. How you felt so deeply ashamed of harbouring such elicit fantasies of the man that had been nothing but kind to you. How you loved him so deeply it made you want to die, because you would never be deserving –

           You heard the journal snapping shut, and you couldn’t bring yourself to face the Doctor, knowing what he must’ve read, dreading what he must now be thinking.

           The silence lasted far longer than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

           “I find myself taken aback more often than I like,” Kreizler’s voice shatters the still air. “I believe myself to be so wise, so understanding of the mind, and yet I come across a mind such as yours that I…I truly cannot fathom how you think what you think.”

           “I’m sorry,” you start, voice breaking as tears begin to flow again.

           You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand on your own. You don’t dare to turn around, frozen like a rabbit having been sniffed out by a hound.

           “You think me to be attracted to Doctor Stratton, am I correct?”

           You nod. Of course, he was. Was it not obvious?

           “Karen and I are colleagues, and friends, should I be too bold to assume so. I can recognize that she is a physically beautiful woman, yes, and I’m sure some day she will make a man a very happy husband, should she wish. But her and I have a kinship, a partnership, not unlike what I believe you and Marcus might have had, that I too misinterpreted as love.”

           You sniff, closing your eyes tightly. What was he trying to tell you?

           Doctor Kreizler spins you around slowly, leading you to face him.

           “I do not harbour half the affection in my heart for Doctor Stratton as I do for you.”

           You freeze. “Doctor-“

           “Please,” he reaches up to cup your face, wiping away several of the tears that had fallen. “Please call me Laszlo. You are not the only one to have an epiphany after the loss of our friend, my dear. If you are being so honest with me, I feel it only right to offer you the same.”

           “Laszlo…” you whisper, meeting his eyes for the first time since he read your words. His heart breaks with the pain within them. “How can you do this? Look at me, hold me, when you see how broken I am? I’m undeserving-“

           “You would choose to love, to care for a cripple, a shell of a man in the eyes of society. A man who has too often neglected the children he cares for, often spat in the face of those he dares to call his friends. If either of us is undeserving of the other’s love, my dear, it’s me.”

           Your brows furrow angrily, reaching up to mirror him, cupping his own face with both of yours. “Laszlo Kreizler you stop that right now, I won’t hear any more of…you’re smiling. How could you be smiling?”

           He leans into one of your hands affectionately, a rare, dashing smile lighting up his features in a way you cherished to see, despite the circumstances. “Perhaps we are both wrong. Perhaps…perhaps we need each other, to use each other’s eyes and hearts to understand who we truly are. We both have such lowly opinions of ourselves but…perhaps it was meant to be.”

           Your own smile was beginning to form, despite your best efforts, as your brain’s screaming of all that could go wrong began to quieten.

           “I hesitate to believe in fate, Doctor…” you trail off, taking a step closer, your heart filled with hope and eyes filled with wonder. “I hesitate further to admit to needing someone, and yet…my brain is only ever kind and quiet when I’m around you.”

           Laszlo’s weaker arm rests on your hip, while the thumb of the hand caressing your face moves to trace your chin. “My language is not as…poetic, as yours, my dear,” he confesses, and you both chuckle, “but I very much would like to kiss you, with your permission.”

           “Laszlo, you could do anything to me,” you confess, reaching forward to finally meet his lips.

           It’s messy, and uncoordinated, but any lack of experience the pair of you may have is made up for by the pure, electric eagerness that overtakes the both of you. You’re both exploring, testing each other, in some give and take dance that does not seem to quell any emotions within you, instead quite the opposite.

           You could kiss him forever, you quickly realize.

           But by some cruel twist of fate, you have to pull away, air taking priority.

           You stare wildly at him as he breathes heavily, eyes darker than you had ever seen, with a sense of uncertainty that you hadn’t ever seen about him before.

           A teasing smile finds its way onto your face, as you can’t help but test your luck.

           “How far, exactly, did you read in my book?”

           He blinks at you a couple of times, uncertain of your line of questioning. “I read of your jealousy, of your shame, I don’t…I don’t believe I finished it all, I found I had to address the issue before I continued –“

           “Would you like to know what else was in there?”

           Laszlo appeared flustered as you led him back to his plush chair, and you knelt down between his legs to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground. You don’t offer it to him, however, instead putting it aside.

           “My dear, I don’t –“

           “I ask you to stop me, if my advances are too…forward to you, Laszlo.”

           You slowly rise from your place, moving to lift your skirts so you might position yourself above the Doctor, straddling him in his chair. As if on its own accord, his good hand rises to situate on your waist tightly. You gently grasp his weaker hand, his “broken wing”, and lift it to your mouth, delicately kissing the palm, each finger.

           Laszlo mutters your name, transfixed by your mouth’s movements.

           “I would love every part of you,” you begin, continuing your assault of affection as you whisper against the part of him, he views as most broken. “I would care for you in every capacity in which I’m capable. I would strive to be deserving of you in every which way.” You drop his hand and lean forward, hands grasping the back of the chair as you hold his gaze. “I would have you claim every part of me, I would have your marks for the world to see, if you wished. I’ve dreamt of you and I in the most compromising positions that I dare not say, on nearly every surface of your study, my bedroom, the Institute. I would give you every single piece of me, Laszlo, every ounce of my attraction. I would give you my darkest sins and my deepest pleasure, if you would allow me too. Please, Doctor Kreizler, let me please you.”

           You didn’t know what you were expecting from your confession.

           Perhaps you wondered if he would push you away, exclaiming that your desires were too much, your words too sinful, and that he would cease associations with you immediately. Perhaps you thought he would scold you for being too wanton, too unbecoming of a woman of your standing. Perhaps you hoped the worst that would happen is he would kiss you softly and instruct that you both go to bed in separate rooms, that more carnal needs could be discussed at a later date.

           Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to feel Laszlo shift and harden beneath you, eyes growing so dark they were nearly completely black, and have him reach his hand to curl around the back of your neck.

           And you certainly didn’t expect the deep growl that escaped him as his lips, tongue, and teeth clashed with yours frantically, animalistically.

           Neither of you had experience, you both knew this.

           But you both knew what you wanted, what you needed, and that would be enough to motivate you.

           You both took what you could, Laszlo leaving your lips to reach what he could of your neck, lavishing it with lips and tongue. He explored expertly, quickly learning what you liked based upon the quickening of your breath, of your pulse. What was left of his analytical mind was fascinated by the chain reaction of events, how you spurred each other on.

           When he nipped at your ear, your hips rolled uncontrollably, and a rough groan escaped him unconsciously.

           Fascinating indeed.

           He panicked slightly when you stood, wondering if he had stepped too far. The panic raised as you strode across his study, heading quickly to the door.

           “Wait, my dear, I-“

           “Calm down, Laszlo,” you hushed him, and he heard a loud click of the door locking from where he sat. “I merely don’t wish to be interrupted. If this is still what you wish.”

           He leans back in his chair, breathing heavily, observing you as you stand once again before him. “I should be asking you what you want, my darling.”

           You grin, shaking your head. “Was my speech before not enough for you to know what I want, Doctor Kreizler? Can you not infer exactly what I want from you from the writings in my journal? It’s your turn to share, else I might just leave you like this.”

           His good hand involuntarily juts forward, grasping yours desperately.

           “Don’t you dare.”

           You giggle, and he smiles at the sound.

           “Then, tell me what you wish, Doctor.”

           “I wish…” he trails off, watching as your hands move upward to begin slowly undressing yourself.

           “Yes?” You prompt him teasingly, continuing your motions. “Don’t mind me.”

           Laszlo shifts in his chair, erection clearly visible by the bulge in his slacks. “I…I wish…” his voice trails off again as his eyes take in every inch of your skin that’s uncovered. “I wish to be with you in every manner. Intellectually, spiritually, physically. I wish to connect with you in a way I never will with any other living creature on this Earth. I wish to feel you around me, to bring you to climax. I wish to fill you, to be yours, to fuck you, to make you Mrs. Kreizler…”

           He stops at that, only becoming aware of his own ramblings you straddled him once again, completely nude.

           The faintest voice in his head wondered if you made him stupid, but it was silence as his eyes took you in completely.

           “You are the most gorgeous specimen I’ve ever been graced with seeing, my love.”

           You pull him in to a languid kiss, gently tasting each other as your hand travels down his chest.

           “You speak of love, of my being Mrs. Kreizler…” you start, almost losing your train of thought as you feel him twitch beneath you, your hips rolling to meet his. “Another day I’ll ask you to remind me of those words. But for now…” you lean forward, mouth grazing his ear, causing him to shiver. “I need you to fuck me, Doctor Laszlo Kreizler.”

           For all of your faith in him, you don’t expect the next feat of strength.

           With only his good arm he manages to lift the pair of you from the chair, quickly placing you upwards and onto the desk of his own study, mindless of the papers underneath you, of any others that might be in the building as you shriek in surprise.

           He captures your mouth with his, more forceful, captivating, as his good hand explores your form, grasping both of your breasts before heading downwards to the warmth between your thighs. His fingers collect some of the wetness that had escaped your folds and examines it with an almost mocking scientific fascination.

           “Is this all for me, my darling?” he questions, and you find yourself at a loss for words as he curiously lifts his fingers to his mouth, his tongue slowly tasting you off of them.

           “Fuck, Laszlo,” you whisper, reaching forward to pull him in for a kiss again as he chuckles darkly against you.

           His teasing ends when your hands wander downward, now working at the buttons of his slacks frantically, your palm grazing across his length through his pants, causing him to gasp.

           “My God,” he pants out, and you pull him out of his slacks. He’s hard, warm, rigid in your palm, with veins and girth that you hadn’t imagined in any of your fantasies, but was now all you could imagine filling you, ending that emptiness that you felt.

           “Please,” you whimper, and he gently removes your hand, before lining his cock up with your entrance.

           He meets your eyes, checking one last time to ensure this was what you wanted.

           “Laszlo, please –“your begging is cut short as he breaches you slowly, pushing his full weight forward as the pair of you connect.

           It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

           A tantalizing combination of pleasure and pain, your mind repeating an endless mantra of “Laszlo”, which you realize, when he’s fully inside, flush against you, that you’re muttering out loud.

           “Oh, my love,” he breathes, his damaged arm lightly resting on your thigh, his other gripping your hip so tightly you knew there would be marks.

           “You feel so right,” you mindlessly breathe, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you at the comment. You would remember that he likes praise, but…

“I don’t know that I will last long, my love,” Laszlo warns, his voice low, gravely, warm against your neck as he buries his face into it, pressing kisses into the skin of your shoulder.

It crosses your mind that you’re completely nude and he’s fully clothed, but the thought fills you with warmth rather than disappointment.

“Nor will I, but this will happen again, won’t it?” you question, a hint of doubt crossing your voice.

The Doctor silences it immediately, kissing you deeply. “Every night, every hour if you would let me, my darling. You are so wonderful…”

“Then please, fuck me Laszlo. I want to cum, I want you to fill me, I – oh!”

The first snap of his hips was relentless, and it was only more intense from there.

He was strong, sure of his movements, chasing his own pleasure and encouraging yours as much as he could, pressing kisses into your neck, your breasts, your lips, his good hand finding your hair tightly. Broken moans left you as dark, rasping breaths escaped him, and it was all too soon before you felt your peak approaching, familiar with the sensation from lonely nights with your own hand curiously working against yourself.

“Laszlo, Doctor Kreizler, I-“ at your moaning of his title, something in him snapped, and his teeth sunk into where your neck met your shoulder.

A deep cry left you as you reached your climax, a white-hot rush waving over you.

As your cunt clenched around him, Laszlo lost himself, growling his native German tongue as he lost his rhythm, heat filling you as he came.

You two didn’t have much time to come down from your highs, as the door to his home could be heard opening and closing from the floors below.

“Doctor Kreizler?” Sara Howard could be heard calling.

Your eyes wide, you rushed to put yourself back together, close wrinkled, roughly thrown back on and your hair being a wreck. You hoped you could pass it off as merely the result of a rough day, an intense mental break.

You turned to Kreizler, who was a picture of perfection, seeming to not be rattled by the events before…almost.

           “Back to the case…?” he trailed off, his voice filled with uncertainty, and you smiled fondly at the terribly awkward, intelligent man before you.

           You step forward and kiss him softly, the warmth between your legs and bruises on your thigh a reminder of what had just occurred.

           “Back to the case. We can continue our escapades when it’s all over, Doctor.”

           He chuckles, confidence returning to him as he nods. “I look forward to it.”

[hikarimiyanaga]

The Dimitrescu Ladies and Donna Beneviento reacting to their S/O wielding/having magic.

A/N:

The simping is officially being extended with Donna. She's just so precious.

Alcina Dimitrescu / Lady Dimitrescu

When Alcina first sees you wield magic, it was to help Daniela with a book that she wanted to read. The book was on top of a closet and neither you or Daniela could reach it. So you used magic to get it down.

Alcina smiles because she knows your special, of course you are, but this just cements that statement.

Since then Alcina always keep her eye on you to see if you would use your magic but you never do.

She asks you about them and you clench your fist.

Having magic in your previous village was considered evil, you were branded a witch and people tried to burn you.

Fortunately, you escaped at the last moment.

She hugs you then caresses your face.

"You know you're safe here, right, Darling?" You nod. "I will kill all those who would dare try to hurt you for your gifts." She takes your hands and kisses them. Tears escape your eyes as she kisses you.

Ever since then, you've practically used magic everywhere. It was freeing to use it since you've been denying something that's a part of you your whole life.

You even began practicing illusion magic so you could perform together with Alcina when she sings the Opera.

And the first time that you two did, everyone is amazed. Even Mother Miranda was speechless.

Alcina thanks you profusely but you just smile at her.

Alcina shows her gratitude that night as well.

Donna Beneviento

You're the only help that Donna has since she preferred being alone. You were her maid turned lover who wanted to still take care of the house.

She knew taking care of the house can be hard since well you're only one person but you wave off her concern and say it's fine.

One day, she got curious so she and Angie decided to spy on you. Her jaw drops as she sees the broom move by itself. The knife cutting with no one moving it.

You don't notice them staring at you as you cook the meal for the day. You finish the soup and was about to call for them when you notice them.

"Donna? Do you guys need something?" You ask as you remove the apron from your body.

"What is happening!?" Angie was the one who answers and as usual she was loud. "How did the thing-"

"Move by themselves?" You ask with a smile and Donna nods. You hold out your hand and a fire appears. You pull it back and wink. "Magic, my dearest."

Ever since then, Donna would always watch as you cook food or clean the house. She's always so amazed when you use it.

So you decided to learn illusion magic to impress her.

And boy was she impressed as you made butterflies appear whenever you're with her.

Angie would request different illusions each time you would show butterflies and you comply because it makes Angie happy. You kiss Donna everytime Angie gets distracted by her request and it's all worth it.

Every night before you two fall asleep, you always show her an illusion of twinkling stars in your room. It makes her calm and happy.

Bela Dimitrescu

You were waiting for the three girls that night when you absentmindedly used your magic. It was a simple illusion but it nonetheless made all of their jaws drop at the sight of a translucent cat.

"A cat!?" Daniela shouts and you got surprised so the illusion disappeared.

They all look at you and you scratch your neck.

Not one of them knew you could use magic, not even Alcina who originally employed you to be a maid.

"It's just a hobby." You tried to downplay your ability but Bela won't have it. She doesn't like it when you try to put yourself down like that.

"No, it's amazing, Y/N." You nod and she kisses you.

Since then, you've been training your magic with Bela coaching you while Cassandra and Daniela cheers you on.

Learning about something with your love supporting is just special. Your sisters-in-laws' cheering is just a bonus.

One day, you decide to use magic to assist the sisters on the hunt and Alcina sees it.

She approves of the ability which made Bela proud.

That night, you use magic to give her a room full of flowers, granted they were illusions, but she was still so happy.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra decided to take you on a hunt since she noticed you were bored for the day. And hunting always make her excited.

It was so dark when she finally got a maiden and you can't see much. So you use magic to have at least a source of light to see where you're going.

Her jaw drops and she drops the maiden. She shakes you hard because why haven't you told her!? Why didn't you show it off!?

You calm her down. "I could only use it a little bit so I didn't think you'd be impressed." She pinches you.

"Of course, I'd be impressed! I can't use it at all!" She huffs and you hug her as you say sorry.

Ever since then you practice your magic and Cassandra is enthralled every time.

You got so better that you could do illusions. And she was just so happy for you.

Your favorite illusion to do is different animals because you know they can't have physical pets but with this, she can at least see different ones.

She was just amazed when you did an illusion of an elephant and she laughed when Daniela tried to hug it.

Every night, you'd show her an illusion of a cat sleeping by her bedside because it's her favorite animal.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Alcina actually invited you to Castle Dimitrescu to perform magic.

At first, Bela suggested that you were a fake and a fraud but Daniela came to your defence.

Alcina didn't mind either way since you were entertaining so she kept inviting you every week.

One night, Daniela asked for your autograph and you smile as you give it to her. Then you wink as you get a bouquet of flowers out of thin air and ask her out.

She accepts and you take her to your spot. You show her illusions of deers, doves and even fireflies. It was so magical and it made Daniela love you more.

It was a year into dating when she asks you to move to Castle Dimitrescu, she even got her mother's permission. You kiss her and say yes.

Daniela always show you off to Bela when you do illusions. Bela accepts her defeat and even apologized to you.

Daniela cheers as you and Bela shake hands.

In your first night in her room, you conjure illusions of butterflies to thank her for being a part of your life.

She thanked you in other ways.

A/N:

Another headcanons! I'm just writing on my phone again so sorry for the mistakes!

Comments and thoughts are always welcome!

Thank you for reading!

[therealvinelle]

Hi, love your metas and your fic. I think you mentioned somwhere that at the end of BD Aro was trying to prevent the fight. What were his motives? According to Edward, the Volturi are cowards, but I didn't get this feeling. Caius was begging for a battle, the guard vocally proclaimed willingness to die for the cause... hell, Jane had to be restrained from running to Bella and punching her in the throat. And I find it unlikely that their leader is less brave than them. Explain Aro's brain pls

Thank you so much! That’s really nice of you to say. And sorry for the late answer.

And explain Aro’s brain, whew. That is a very big question with a very long answer and this post will be a manifesto by the time I’m done. But you wanted Aro’s brain explained so manifesto it is.

So, before we go anywhere I have to make the distinction between Aro of the books and Aro of the movies. Those two are different people.

Starting with appearance, because casting does a lot for me and if a big deviation is made it better be like Ruth Wilson as Marisa Coulter, which is to say it better fit the character. Also, disclaimer, I think most of Twilight was miscast, and especially the Volturi. I’m forever dying at Caius looking like Lucius Malfoy. However, this is an Aro post, so we’re highlighting Aro.

Aro of the books is a twenty-something Greek with skin that has petrified and eyes covered in a milky sort of film, which totals to him looking perfect, as all vampires do, yet frail. When he walks it looks like he’s gliding. This is an otherworldly, ancient, inhuman being. He’s energetic and excitable, yes, but if anything that should add to how very other he is. Casting Michael Sheen is a clear signal that the movies were going in a completely different direction with Aro. Sheen is a great actor who played what he was given perfectly, but what he was given was a very different character.

In New Moon the book, Aro first rejects Edward request because this is Carlisle’s gifted son, and more, this is not what the Volturi do. They are not hitmen. It’s just a big no all around.

Bella enters, and the Aro she meets is a very polite and gracious man who’s delighted to see the human still alive, and pleased Carlisle’s son won’t be suicidal anymore. However, Edward fully intended to step into the sunlight in the middle of Volterra, specifically to provoke the Volturi, and he has broken the law with Bella. Further, Edward makes it clear that he fully intends to walk out of Volterra with his human still human, and that she’ll die of old age if he gets his way. Edward’s contempt of the law could not be more clear. However, Alice shows Aro that Bella’s fate is sealed, she turns or she dies. The law will be upheld. Aro is glad to hear it, and lets the Cullens all go home.

All in all, it’s a very tense occasion where Edward has put Aro in a difficult position, because he’s trying to force him to kill his best friend’s son, and Aro goes “YES THANK GOD” when Alice finally gives him an out.

New Moon of the movies was not this. Starting with the flashback (because I’m being thorough), Aro executes a lowly criminal himself.  I object to that, I think that’s a menial task and Aro doing it himself made the Volturi look less regal, not more. Cut to the present day, Aro rejects Edward’s request because he doesn’t want to waste his gift. We get the whole meeting with Bella, and Aro… well I don’t know why he does any of the things he does. This guy never mentions his friendship to Carlisle, tries to kill our plucky heroes three times in the space of one minute (one, gives Felix the order to kill Bella, stopped by Edward. Two, moves to decapitate Edward, stopped by Bella. Three, he’s about to eat Bella, stopped by Alice), and when he lets them go it feels terribly convenient.

This was a guy written to be the villain of the series, and it showed.

Cut to Breaking Dawn part I’s ending scene, and while I love the song choice for the scene, and fully agree that Aro considers misspelling Carlisle’s name to be a capital offense, the scene itself… we are presented with a villainous, power-hungry megalomaniac who’s just waiting to strike against the Cullens.

We then get Breaking Dawn part II, and I haven’t seen that movie in years but I remember the fight scene well enough. Aro kills Carlisle with the biggest grin on his face, and gives the go-ahead to his Volturi to kill the surviving Cullens and their witnesses.

Contrast that with canon, where Aro’s first words to Carlisle are «Nothing would make me happier than preserving your life today». Now, he’s making it very clear that this meeting will most likely end with Carlisle’s death, but he’s not happy about it. He’s certainly not going to kill him with a smile on his face and laughter in his heart.

The movies needed a hammy villain, and that’s what Michael Sheen played. It is not who Aro is, at all. And he’s not the only character this happened to, but again, this is an Aro post so I’m not going to start raging like Don Corleone about what they did to my boys.

So, with the movies firmly expelled from the post, let’s look at the Twilight series from Aro’s point of view.

Or, rather, we’ll have to start earlier because Aro’s decisions throughout the series are pretty clearly motivated by Carlisle. And that means considering, “why is Carlisle so important, anyway?”

Consider these things: one, Aro is gifted with the power of knowing every single thought a person has ever had. He knows your soul. Two, Aro is the leader of the supernatural world, he has been for over a thousand years.

How many friends does a person with that power and in that position have?

Three, who does Aro even come into contact with?

Starting with number three, for Aro it’s going to be 1) criminals, 2) Volturi guard hopefuls, 3) Weirdos like Laurent who are wasting Aro’s time.

(“But what about the guard!” Well, while we observe close interpersonal relationships between Aro and Jane, and Aro and Renata, and one can assume Corin to be close to the wives, the distinction between Volturi coven and Volturi guard remains. The guards are servants, in some cases beloved servants, but servants nonetheless. It would be inappropriate and weird for Aro to start slumming it with Demetri and Felix)

So, Aro doesn’t get out much, which brings us to point two. The people he does meet, and who are willing to entertain a friendship with the Volturi leader, are going to be people who want something. And that might work for some rulers, Louis XIV built Versailles specifically to make his subjects do this for him, but he had something to gain politically from that. Aro does not, his power is supreme without a need to tolerate brown nosers. More, with his own and Marcus’ gifts, he’ll know right away that he’s being used for power. He would get nothing out of it.

Finally point one, Aro’s gift. Say that we have a vampire who’s not a weirdo and who thinks Aro’s a cool dude. Well, the question now is, who would ever want a person in their life who knows all there is to know about them? I wouldn't want anybody to know every thought I've ever had, I certainly would never seek out a person to know me that deeply when I could just go find normal people to be friends with instead. Not to mention how incredibly unequal such a friendship would be.

In short, I don’t think Aro has any friends.

Enter Carlisle a very amiable person who cherishes Aro for his personality, and doesn’t mind having his mind read. Aro just found a unicorn. Carlisle on his end likes Aro so much that he lives with him for decades. Even if you want to read their relationship as platonic, that’s still a very strong friendship.

Point being that Carlisle is unbelievably precious to Aro, and so very unique. Aro has lived for over three millennia, and never met anyone like this before. There won’t be another Carlisle.

This in turn makes him willing to stretch as far as he can to preserve that friendship and, as the plot thickens, keep Carlisle alive.

Fast forwards to 2006, and Aro is sitting in Volterra minding his own business when Carlisle’s son walks into town demanding his own execution. He has not committed any crimes. Not only is assisted suicide not something the Volturi even do, but this would ruin Aro’s friendship with Carlisle. Even if Carlisle was miraculously understanding of Aro killing his son (which I can’t imagine he would be), this would never leave the air between them. Carlisle could never be around him again after something like that.

So, Aro turns down Edward’s request. “Stupid Volturi man ruining my dramatic suicide, I’ll show him who’s boss!” Edward replies, and runs shirtless into the sunlight. I’m sure Aro was just dying, you had “The Sound of Silence” playing as he stared into nothingness because how is this happening to him. A whiplash of an hour later, Bella is alive again, Aro is happy, we can be done with this now, right? Right?!

No, Edward says, we cannot be done with this. He’s still refusing to turn Bella.

And so we get that whole New Moon exchange where Aro very tellingly shoves the part where Edward WALKED INTO THE SUNLIGHT IN VOLTERRA under the carpet and out of the conversation (for comparison: Irina is executed for false testimony and Bree for breaking a law she didn’t know existed), and he even allows Bella to leave human when he could easily have bitten her himself to keep the Cullens honest. This guy went out of his way to be lenient and show the Cullens good faith.

And then a few months later Irina walks into Volterra, bearing memories of what is unmistakably a Cullen immortal child.

Aro may care for Carlisle, but this is the guy who killed his baby sister so he’d still have Marcus’ gift. He will bend far, very far, for those he cares about, but he will not break. It’s duty above love, Volturi above Aro’s personal preferences. An immortal child is not an offense that can be tolerated, and so it’ll be Didyme 2: Aro Kills Someone He Loves Boogaloo.

By now I think it should be quite clear why I think Aro was trying to prevent the fight. Battle would have meant Carlisle’s certain death.

(And that’s even assuming the Volturi won the fight. With Bella there, there was a chance the Volturi wouldn’t prevail. But even before Bella started showing off, Aro was very much hoping this wouldn’t be another Didyme situation.)

[theeslytherinslut]

The Perpetual Freak (2/?)

Ch 2: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader Warnings: none, slight language (but that's for every chapter rlly) Word Count: 3,108

As if on cue, you heard a knock at the door just as your foot touched down onto the landing. The sound of quick, heeled footsteps sounded immediately after; Grandmother briskly coming down the hall followed by the slower steps of Blakely as he surely wanted to gaze curiously at your friends.

“Prongs!” you breathed upon seeing James, smiling fondly at the messy mop of black hair atop your friend's head.

“Twitchy!” he smiled back, opening his arms in greeting. You wasted no time in falling into them, smiling into his chest as his hug signaled the true return to Hogwarts.

“Mrs. Killianis,” James said, suddenly formal as he looked to your severe grandmother behind you. Following his gaze, you saw her eyes narrowing as Sirius and Remus all but fell out of the car, Peter’s wheezing laughter following them out.

You smiled fondly after them as Remus brushed the dirt from his knees, frowning up at Sirius. Sirius grinned back and ran a hair through his raven black hair, brushing it from his eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Killianis,” Sirius said, his voice taking on a tone you’d never heard before. You and James glanced warily at each other.

“Hello, boys,” she said stiffly, her eyes now staring rudely at the scars littering Remus’ exposed skin.

Remus cleared his throat, clearly catching your grandmother's eyes. “Shall we get your trunk then?” he said, clapping his hands together as he smiled at you.

You offered him a sympathetic smile and pushed an apology into his head at your grandmother’s rudeness.

“That’d be great, Moony, thanks.” you nodded. Peter followed him up into your room dutifully. After a moment or two, you heard what sounded like a reprimanding noise followed by a sharp smack and idly wondered what was going on.

“I suppose you’ll be staying at the school for the Holidays again, yes? Blakely and I were planning a trip,” Grandmother said suddenly--it didn’t take a genius to figure out you weren’t invited.

“Definitely,” you answered briskly. The choice between a Hogwarts Christmas with the boys and a visit to Grandmother's sister’s house in the States with Blakely was a no-brainer.

“Lovely thing Hogwarts does, providing a home for the holidays,” James grinned, putting an emphasis on ‘home.’ Grandmother lowered her eyes, but Remus and Peter were already coming down the stairs, hauling your heavy trunk between them.

“Bloody hell, Twitch,” Remus huffed, blowing his thin brown hair out of his eyes, “What’d you pack?”

“Mind your tongue, boy,” Grandmother snipped as the two of them passed through the front door. “You won’t behave like the heathens that you are in my presence.”

“Er, right,” Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes and laughing under his breath. “C’mon, Twitch, don’t want to be late.”

Eager to leave the situation, you quickly followed the boys out and made your way into the baking heat. Just as they made to load your trunk, you clucked your tongue as Peter fumbled his end and dropped it roughly into the undoubtedly magically enhanced trunk.

“Sorry,” Peter winced, rubbing his hands together in an anxious sort of way.

“S’Alright Wormtail. Now, shall we get a move on, then?” James said, using his wand to swing open the car door for you. You heard your grandmother let out a small gasp, and Blakely took a step back. As most parents took the time to drop their children off at Platform 9 3/4, the journey there was generally a sort of grace period if you wanted to use magic; the Ministry wouldn’t take the time to differentiate each use of magic on this day between parents and students. Per wizarding law, they'd never seen magic as you didn’t use it during your time here--aside from your special gift.

“Please,” you said, turning to leave without glancing back.

“You aren’t going to say goodbye?” you heard Remus ask. You turned to answer him before you slipped into the car, but he wasn’t talking to you.

“Excuse me?” Grandmother said, clearly affronted he was saying anything more than ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’

“Honestly, Moony, just let it alone,” Sirius moaned as he made his way back out of the car to gather him.

“You aren’t going to see your granddaughter for 9 months, surely you’re going to at least say goodbye?” Remus pressed on, equally affronted. Sirius took a step closer to his friend, and you saw your grandmother’s eyes fall upon the several tattoos that already littered his arms; Sirius lived to upset his family, and tattoos were such a Muggle form of rebellion it only bolstered his point.

Her eyes then fell to the both of their wands, which were gripped tightly in their hands, and let out a breath she’d been holding. Lowering her eyes but acquiescing nonetheless, she sighed.

“Goodbye, then,” she said stiffly, nudging Blakely, who was locking eyes with a mischievous looking Sirius. Glancing behind Blakely’s head, you saw a dish hovering dangerously above his head and looked to see Sirius' wand pointed right at it. Rolling your eyes, you pushed the dish back with your own and threw a knowing grin at Sirius.

“Naughty, naughty boy,” you said silently. He grinned back boyishly at you and threw you a wink.

“See you next summer,” Blakely allowed, lowering his eyes at you and grinning in an awful sort of way. You could’ve sworn you heard a growl on your right and found Remus glaring at Blakely, who swallowed harshly and disappeared back into the house. At that, you slipped into the front seat next to James, the rest of the boys piling into the backseat, Remus scolding Sirius for shoving Peter out of the way to get in first. Fondly, you smiled and listened to them bicker.

“Merlin, glad that’s over.” Remus shook his head as James smoothly pulled away from the house. “Don’t know how you do it all summer.”

“Aw, what’s the matter, Moony? Not a big fan of familial tension, are we? I think it’s rather quite nice; reminds me of home,” Sirius said with a fake voice of longing. James looked through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes at Sirius.

“Muggles giving you hell again?” Peter squeaked from the backseat, grabbing the head of your seat and leaning up towards you.

He’d always been a mousy boy, but after his first successful transformation, his commonalities with his Animagi only became more pronounced.

“When do they not, Wormtail?” you laughed, throwing a gum wrapper at him playfully as you popped a piece into your mouth.

“Ooh, is that gum?” Sirius asked, peering over your shoulder from the backseat.

“Yes, but it’s Muggle-gum.” you reminded him.

“Bit boring, but it’ll do. Jamesy won’t let me smoke in the car,” Sirius sneered, looking amusedly at an annoyed-looking James in the mirror.

“It smells! Isn’t my fault Dad has the nose of a bloody hound,” he defended, looking disgruntled at the thought of being a do-gooder.

“Good ol’ Fleamont, what a chap,” Sirius laughed, spreading out on the backseat and draping his arm along the seats. He reached and affectionately gave Remus’ hair a tussle, jostling Peter in the process, who grinned.

“So, now that we’ve all been reminded how horrible my lovely grandmother is, how was everybody else’s Holiday?” you asked as James drove the car expertly around the busy London streets--Muggle driving was a skill he was particularly proud of.

“Oh, you know, wonderful as always. Mother only threatened to have me disenfranchised and disgraced twice this year, so that’s a mark better than last Holiday.” Sirius laughed, blowing bubbles with his gum but frowning in disappointment when they popped.

“Didn’t you go to Prongs’ early this year?” you asked, remembering James’ letter that Sirius had arrived a few weeks into break.

“Yeah, don’t know why the evil hag insists on having me around anyway. All she does is dote on Regulus and send the nearest object flying at my head. Don’t even get me started on Kreacher...I don’t think I’ll go back next year.” a dark look came over his features, and you found yourself staring at him.

“What?” you asked, shocked at the nonchalant tone of his serious words.

“Yeah, I didn’t so much go to Prongs’ early this year as I did run away,” he said, looking slightly sheepish as you looked accusingly at him.

“What? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?” you gasped, turning in the front seat entirely to glare at him.

“Dunno, I mean, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” he shrugged.

“Well, go on then, tell me more,” you insisted.

“Just more of the same Twitch. You don’t understand,” he paused, and his usual carefree, light demeanor vanished and was taken over by a dark cloud that seemed to fill the car. “That house, it’s like a black hole. It swallows you whole. It’s like a bloody residential dementor. Every decent thought you have gets sucked into the black wallpaper, every horrible thought you’ve ever had on repeat, magnified. I can’t breathe in that house; they’re all so cozy, so comfortable in that dark, that evil. The Noble House of Black, it’s killing me slowly, draining the life out of me.”

He seemed aware of how much he was saying, how serious he’d gotten, because, at the end of the little speech, he let out a deep breath and forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

“Nothing like Prongs’ here, for example,” he grinned up at his friend, who shot him one from the mirror.

“I mean, you basically already lived there,” James shrugged. “Besides, Mum was thrilled--you know, I think she likes you better than me sometimes.”

“Oh, she definitely does, mate. Euphemia and me? Kinda besties,” Sirius grinned, and the dark cloud dispersed. You found yourself staring at Sirius, chest full of emotion. The quickness with which he dismissed himself was almost worse.

“And, Moony? How was yours?” James asked, filling the silence.

“Decent, I suppose. Though I’ve almost worked my way through every decent book worth reading at the library closest to home, all the rest are the silly little Muggle books in that dingy section they have in the back...though I started reading this one called the ‘Bible’; Merlin does it tell some truly fantastic tales...whales eating people, turning water to wine, healing the blind--this Jesus bloke even rose from the dead! I reckon he was some type of early wizard or something, don’t know how the Muggles don’t...” he trailed off while the rest of you shared knowing glances. Moony was prone to monologues full of on-the-spot thinking, constantly prattling on about something he’d read in some book.

“You’re doing it again,” you shot a meaningful look at Remus, who blushed scarlet at your mental words and trailed off.

“Hey, no fair!" Sirius whined from the back seat at you. "I wanted to see where he was going with that. There definitely could’ve been something in there well worth making fun of!”

“Opportunity missed, Padfoot.” James hissed in sympathy at his friend, smiling at him in the rearview mirror.

“You all leave Moony alone. Just because he gets abnormally excited about really obscure Muggle things doesn’t mean we get to make fun of him for it,” you shot a smile at Remus in the back seat, who rolled his eyes but nonetheless smiled around sheepishly.

“How was your summer, James?” Peter asked from the backseat, leaning up hopefully.

“Alright, my parents set up a little Quidditch pitch in the back; Sirius got his arse handed to him a couple times,” James smirked, throwing a playful grin at his best friend in the backseat.

Wormtail laughed gleefully at James’ story as he described a match while Sirius sat up indignantly, poised to argue.

“I’m a Keeper, Potter. Not a sodding Seeker. Not too quick to tell everyone how miserable you were at trying to get the Quaffle in, though, are you?” Sirius quipped from the backseat.

“Down, boy. We all know how great of a Keeper you are, wouldn’t have won that last match against Ravenclaw without you..” you pushed into Sirius’ head, stroking his bruised ego. He met your eyes in the rearview and smirked up at you, clearly appeased by your comment. Lounging lazily once more in the roomy backseat, he turned to Peter.

“What about you, Wormtail? Your Holiday good?” Sirius said, cocking his head at his friend with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“S’alright..” he trailed off, looking around nervously as Sirius grinned at him.

“Really? Didn’t miss having Prongs’ arse to kiss?” he sneered at his friend, who blushed and stuttered.

“Let him alone, Pads,” Remus smiled at his friend from across the seats.

Just as the boys began to bicker more harshly, James pulled into the parking lot at Kings Cross, and the group of you piled out of the car.

“Wormtail, go find us a trolley,” Sirius said, and with a wave of his hand, Peter was gone.

“Obedient little bugger, isn’t he?” Remus said praisingly, rubbing his chin.

“Why d’you think he’s made it this long?” Sirius laughed, lifting his trunk out of the car as Peter came wheezing around with the trolley.

“I’ve got it, Y/N,” Peter said, exerting tremendous effort to lift your trunk until Remus saw him and reached in to help.

“Thanks, Peter...always so helpful.” you pushed to him in thanks. You saw him blush violently and smile to himself.

Your gift had taught you many things, but perhaps above all: people were so easily manipulated, one well-timed compliment, and it could send a person fawning. Though you weren’t shy to use it to your advantage, it was lucky a person of your moral stature had the gift. It could be so easily used...perhaps it was thoughts like these that led to the Sorting Hat’s consideration of your placement in Slytherin.

Half an hour later, your trunks were placed in the train's storage carriages, and the group of you were lounging in a compartment, your various pets making random noises as they settled in for the long train ride.

Jinx hooted sleepily in his cage before lifting his wing and drifting off to sleep. Sirius’ handsome jet-black Screech Owl, BamBam, seemed to take a cue from Jinx and buried his head into his wing as well. They almost resembled salt and pepper shakers as they stood next to one another in direct contrast. To most everyone's intense surprise, Remus’ pet was a fluffy siamese cat named Cleo. Unsurprising, however, was Peter’s choice of a pet rat named Nibbles. Though, Nibbles was on his last leg--most common rats only lived a couple of years, and Nibbles had been with Peter since first year.

“What’re you doing?” Peter asked, sitting up interestedly in his seat as Sirius drew out his wand and flung open the compartment door.

“Having some fun,” Sirius shrugged, the grin you all loved so much donning his face. James watched his friend and broke into a smile; Peter seemed to be struggling to sit still with excitement; even Remus peered over the top of his book to watch.

Fully aware he was holding all of your attention, Sirius pointed his wand at the wall opposite your door.

“Carpe Retractum,” Sirius said, and a length of rope came spouting out at the end of his wand. “Bollocks...what’s that one to get something to stick to something else?” he asked into the compartment after a moment.

“Epoximise,” Remus answered from behind his book once more, seemingly having seen everything he needed to.

“Right, cheers, Moony,” Sirius smiled and did the incantation, sticking the other end of the rope to the wall. Pulling on his wand, he seemed to test his theory and smiled in success as the rope pulled taught--effectively making a tripwire.

“Very nice,” you complimented, to which you received a playful little bow of his head.“Might I suggest something, though?”

“By all means, Twitch,” Sirius said, gesturing to the tripwire.

“Omnino dissimulare,” you spoke, pointing your wand at the length of rope. As the white beam of light hit it, the rope disappeared from view, and you smiled triumphantly. You’d been working hard on that one towards the end of last term and were worried you’d have to start over with the holiday break.

“Excellent!” Peter cheered, clapping wildly at the two of you.

“Where’d you learn that?” Remus said, finally putting his book down and looking at you curiously.

“Been working on it for a bit. Found it in a book Madam Pince let me take home last Christmas,” you answered, feeling a bit smug that you’d impressed Remus.

“Pince let you take home books?” Remus said, incredulous.

“You know she pities me,” you laughed, waving a hand. “Though, she did threaten to turn me inside out if there was so much a creased page--so only marginally.”

“Wait, wait!” Sirius called, pointing to the door excitedly; Peter was positively quivering.

A group of already-robed Slytherins came strolling past your window, and you smiled in anticipation. At the last second, Sirius jerked his wrist and tightened the rope, sending the group of Slytherins sprawling across the floor.

The group of you exploded into laughter, and they all got to their feet, whipping their wands out, looking for a culprit. Given the rope was invisible, however, they found no such thing and resigned to giving the group of you ugly looks before grumping off.

“Oh, very good, Padfoot,” Peter simpered, laughing heartily as tears of joy rolled down his plump cheeks.

“A little juvenile,” Remus scolded, smiling ruefully at his friends, “But funny. However, as a Prefect, I am not to indulge in such behavior and as such must sincerely reprimand you.”

“Most eloquently spoken, dear Moony. Tell me, does being a Prefect mean you have to be just a bit of a prat on principle?” James asked his friend, painting a serious look on his face as Sirius and Peter erupted into laughter. You let out a small giggle as Remus blushed slightly and put down his book.

“Well, you should sure as hell hope not,” Remus began, smiling mischievously at his friend. “Imagine fawning after Lily Evans for years, at her often utter disgust, only for her to end up being a prat. Talk about unfortunate, mate.”

The group of you were in stitches over Remus’ response, and even James let out a laugh.

“Touche, Moony. Touche,” he laughed, shaking his finger at Remus in a playful manner. A warm feeling spread through you; you were so happy to finally be going home.

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

Taglist: @whiskeypowder

[honey-dewey]

The Prince’s Dogs

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/Reader

Word Count: 4,171

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Upon leaving your small village and getting a job in Dorne working for the two princes of Sunspear, you had no idea how much you’d miss one very small yet very pivotal part of your life. The rain. However, being the dog trainer for Prince Oberyn might beat the rain. Might. 

A/N: Have I watched Game of Thrones? Nope! But I’ve started reading the books and read a bit of book 3 with Oberyn, so that’s what this is based off of. Oops. 

Of all the things you missed about home, the rain was what you missed most. Dorne was a fine kingdom with ample sun and the intoxicating smell of salt in the air. But rain was scarce this far south in Sunspear, and you longed for a day where the skies opened and wept, showering the earth.

But the rain was something you could not have, so you settled for a life many would envy. A position in the Dornish palace, dressed in fine clothes rather than your worn out linens. You dearly missed your old home, with the smell of wet dirt and the muddy ground beneath your bare feet, but when your parents had passed, you needed to leave, finding work and income to keep yourself alive.

And you’d found it. You were a servant for the Martell family, although you rarely saw your masters. Doran was always busy, and his younger brother was typically nowhere to be found when he was needed. You’d never met Elia, but the stories were prominent, even to your people. Anyone south of King’s Landing knew all too well the story of Elia Martell.

The Martells treated their servants well. When you’d arrived, they’d put you to work immediately in the kitchens, scrubbing copper kitchenware until your hands were red. The woman who oversaw your work was impressed. Apparently most ended their days with bloodied fingertips. You’d told her you worked with animals day in and day out where you’d come from, and your hands were well prepared for harsh conditions. However, despite the grind, you wore soft clothes. A linen shirt you’d refused to give up, brown pants, and a deep yellow robe you often never wore. You were built for the cold, and Dorne was hot as an oven. A robe would only serve to boil you alive.

You sighed, scrubbing a large cooking pot and dunking it under the water again. Your face was finally legible in the surface, warped and coppery, but legible nonetheless. You hung it to dry alongside the other pots you’d cleaned, turning back yet again to the pile of dirty dishes. You were elbow deep in soapy water when someone exclaimed, “My Prince! I did not see you there!”

“It’s fine my dear,” a honeyed voice said, thick with a Dornish accent. “I did not mean to scare you.”

Hanging another pot, you finally turned to see your visitor.

Prince Oberyn Martell stood by the fire, the flames dancing in his onyx eyes. He smiled at you, and you felt yourself flush. “And this must be the one who keeps my dogs. I’d recognize those hands anywhere.”

You nodded. Once she’d learned you worked dogs in your past, your overseer assigned you to keep the prince’s dogs when you weren’t busy. He had five, all of whom were slender and fast and well trained thanks to you. All the dogs sat by your feet during meals solely because you fed them scraps of your food, and apparently the prince had taken notice. “Yes, I am. Is there a problem with their training?”

Oberyn chuckled. “Quite the contrary, in fact. The girls are swift as ever, and have no hesitation while hunting. Tell me, how did you train them to run through rivers?”

“Food.” It was a true answer. You’d taken the dogs to a shallow pond and baited them across the water, working your way up until you were baiting them across the deepest river you could find. Compared to training dogs in pelting rain, which you had done before, training the dogs to swim fearlessly had been simple.

“Ah,” Oberyn said with a smile. “Food, of course. I suppose this means you’re also the reason Nyx and Artemis are looking a bit rounder than usual?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your dogs are all in perfect health,” you said sternly. “And if two of your ladies are looking too well fed, then I should not be confronted, because I had nothing to do with it.” It was a blatant lie, and you both knew it.

Oberyn put his hands up. “I was merely making an observation,” he said lightly. “I’ll be leaving you to your washing up.”

You did as he left you to do, washing each dish until it shone and then heading to the doghouse. It was big as your old house back home, and all five dogs rushed to the door as you opened it.

“Hello girls!” You said eagerly, kneeling down so they could all nip at your ears and fingers. “How are we today?”

The dogs all dispersed after that. It was late and there was a warm fire, so three of the dogs curled up to sleep. Nyx and Athena stayed awake, wrestling for a toy before Athena grew bored and trotted off to sleep with her sisters. So Nyx found the next best thing to play with. You.

You wrestled Nyx for the toy, rolling around on the ground and laughing as she growled at you. You growled right back, shaking the toy and coaxing Nyx to drop it. She did, and you tossed it across the room for her to chase after. Nyx was the leader of the pack, the biggest and the oldest. Her muzzle was streaked with grey, but her black and white coat still shone with youth and her eyes sparkled when she was playing. She would always be a puppy at heart.

She returned the toy to you, and you took it. Nyx snapped her jaws at you in an attempt to take the toy, but you pulled it away quickly. “Absolutely not!” You said firmly. “We don’t snatch.” You made Nyx sit, her eyes trained on her toy the entire time. When you finally threw it again, she caught it and trotted right past you with it, dropping it obediently at the feet of her master.

You stood quickly, nearly tripping over yourself as you did so. You knew you looked a mess. Covered from head to foot in dog fur and saliva, your sleeves were still damp from washing dishes and your feet were bare, as they always were. Your hair, which you’d grown long upon arriving in Dorne, was a mess of tangles. Your morning’s braid was long gone.

But the prince didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he scratched Nyx behind the ears and tossed her toy, sending her joyously chasing after it. “I figured I’d find you here,” he said. “The guards said you liked to put the dogs to bed every night.”

You nodded, relaxing a bit as Oberyn sat on a bench and gestured you to his side. Nyx followed you, sitting practically on your feet as you sat. You absently scratched under her ornate collar, hearing her foot thump the ground as you found the sweat spot to scratch. Oberyn smiled as Nyx squirmed under your hands. “You work the girls well.”

“It was my job back home,” you admitted. “I worked the hunting dogs. They were stockier and slower than yours, but could take down anything they wanted. Training them was a task, especially during the rainy season.”

Oberyn nodded slowly. “My girls are bred for speed,” he said. “Their mother was a gift given to my sister, and she bore me my puppies.”

You tried to imagine Oberyn cradling a tiny puppy. His hands were bigger than yours, and a puppy would probably fit in his palm. “Is the mother still alive?”

“Died of age years ago,” Oberyn said. “Right after bearing Persephone’s litter.”

The beautiful dark red dog looked up when Oberyn said her name, but went back to sleep shortly after.

“And what happened to the other puppies?”

“I got pick of the litter,” Oberyn said, smoothing a hand over Nyx’s head. “And the other puppies were given to knights or to houses who’ve sworn loyalty.”

You nodded. “These five were incredibly lucky.”

Oberyn smiled. “Two of them were the youngest born, and one was a runt.”

Both of your gazes went to the dogs curled around the fire. “Was it Artemis?” The blue dog had always been smaller than her sisters, but she had never been any less impressive.

“No.” Oberyn stood, sitting cross legged beside the fire and looking warmly at his dogs. “Athena was the youngest born in her litter, but wasn’t a runt by any means. Nyx was my first dog, the biggest in her litter of course. Persephone was a middle born, and I chose her for her fighter’s spirit. Artemis, bless her, was second youngest in her litter but she was an average size. No, it was Hestia who was a runt. She was so small, we all feared she’d die in the night. I fed her myself, with a rag soaked in milk, for months.”

You nodded, sitting on the other side of the fire and stroking Hestia’s silky ears. She was the best suited for hunting, with her dark brindle pattern and keen blue eyes. “She’s a magnificent dog.”

“She is.”

For the better part of the night, you and Oberyn sat in silence around the fire until it was nothing more than embers. All the dogs were long asleep, and the only reason you didn’t join them was because the room was stiflingly hot. Oberyn looked at peace in the heat, and actually seemed surprised when you got up to sit next to the cracked window. “Are you warm?”

“I’m boiling,” you said. “Dorne is a beautiful place, but must it be so damned hot?”

“Oh? And where do you come from that would justify Dorne being hot as the ovens you work in front of?” Oberyn asked, tipping his head ever so slightly.

You tucked your feet up under your body, leaning against the windowsill and looking out across the Sea of Dorne. “I come from a place where no man rules. My people have been there for generations and will remain there for generations. The land is firm beneath our feet, it’s why we all go barefoot. We have three seasons. The winters, the summers, and the rain. Each turn, between the winters and the summers, it rains. It rains a lot. No one is ever deterred by the rain, as it’s warm, so unlike the freezing rain in the mountains. We were barely fifty houses strong when I left, but our land stretches as far as the eye can see. Flat expanses of green, and in the summers the fields bloom with every kind of flower imaginable. It is a beautiful sight, and if you travel far enough east, you can see the shadows of the Dornish Mountains.” As you spoke, you grew only more homesick, wishing you could plant your feet in the mud and breathe, just breathe in the open air. Dorne’s air smelled of ocean and fish, and you craved the wetness of the petrichor smell you’d grown up with.

Oberyn joined you by the window, looking out at the glowing moon hung high in the sky. “What would you give to return?”

“Everything.”

It was an answer that seemed to stun the youngest Martell sibling. He blinked, still gazing at the moon. “Of course,” he said softly. “Of course.”

The next day, you spent all morning in the great hall, feeding the dogs under the table and reading a book you’d bought in town. Doran and Oberyn sat at the head of the hall together, arguing, but you couldn’t hear them, nor did you care to. You merely flipped a page in your book and fed Hestia another scrap of bacon.

Halfway through your day, you were interrupted in your washing of linens by the lake. Oberyn rode up to you, two horses and all his dogs by his side. “Come.”

You stood, dusting off your pants. “Where to?” You asked. “I doubt I’ll be much use on a hunting trip.”

Oberyn handed you the reins of a horse you’d trained early in your days of working in Dorne. “I’m taking you home.”

You went eagerly after that. You may have been wary, but Oberyn was sincere enough that you trusted him. The dogs followed you, ever the obedient hunters you had trained, as you and him rode hard northward, stopping to make camp as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

“Why are you joining me?” You asked once you’d made camp. “You could’ve sent me on my way, alone.”

Oberyn considered your words, turning meat over the fire. “You fascinate me,” he finally admitted. “You want for nothing in Dorne, and yet you are more homesick than anyone I’ve ever met. You talk about your home as if there is no better place to be. I want to see if you’re right.”

You grinned. “You’ll need firmer clothes than that,” you said, gesturing to Oberyn’s ornate robe. “It’s nearly rain season. Anything that isn’t made to stand up to the water will be ruined.”

Oberyn ran the fabric through his fingers, nodding. “What should I wear?”

“There’s a town not far from my home,” you said. “We’ll find you some suitable clothes there.”

The town in question was a three day ride away. While you rode, you and Oberyn got to know each other. He talked happily about his daughters, never favoring one over the other and seeming proud to have bore them all. In return, you told him about your parents, despite both of them being deceased. He was a good listener, hardly ever interrupting. As the weather grew colder and a wet chill filled the air, you felt yourself getting more comfortable, more at home.

The town finally loomed in the distance after three days on horseback, only stopping to rest the dogs or the horses. You were familiar with everyone, happily chatting to the townsfolk while you browsed thick clothes for Oberyn. He kept the hood of a roughly made cloak over his head, concealing his identity as he watched you make decisions. Finally, you walked away with a sturdy linen shirt that matched yours, reinforced brown pants, and a thick robe that mimicked the Dornish style while also remaining functional. It didn’t fall to Oberyn’s ankles as his vibrant yellow one did, the new faded deep green one stopping just above his knee. He grumbled about the color, but you hushed him as you donned a similar coat in faded burgundy.

As you continued east, the threat of rain grew stronger. You could smell it now, the rain heavy clouds a swirl of deep blue grey on the sky. Artemis whined when a distant rumble of thunder sounded, but you hushed her gently and nudged the horse forward. “We’re not far off. We’ll beat the rain.”

You were right. The village came into view before the rain started, and you quickly ushered the five dogs and one Dornish Prince into your family’s home as warm summer rain began to fall.

Oberyn stared at the ceiling in wonder as the rain began to pound. “Will it hold?”

“It’s held for three generations,” you said, putting logs into a fireplace and looking for your flint. “It’ll continue to hold, that I can swear.”

Once you got a fire going and some food set out for the dogs, you went outside. Oberyn tried to stop you, but you ignored him, opting to stand out back of the house instead. Rain soaked you to the bone immediately, but you didn’t care. The rain was warm and comforting, like being hugged by an old friend. Your hair slicked to your head and your clothes were sticking to your skin, but you simply tipped your head to the heavens and smiled.

You were out for a surprisingly long time before Oberyn braved the rain. He shielded his eyes and stood beside you, shoulders hunched. “Are you going to come back inside? You’ll catch a chill if you stay out here much longer!”

You shook your head. “No I won’t,” you said, looking over when a crack of thunder interrupted you. “Relax Oberyn, it’s only rain.”

Eventually, Oberyn loosened, standing next to you and admiring the rain. When he spoke again, his voice was full of wonder. “You worked in these conditions?”

You nodded. “Sometimes, the rain lasts for weeks,” you said. “We need to hunt, eat, and gather, so yes. I worked in the rain a lot.”

A bell sounded in the distance, and Oberyn looked over, shielding his eyes. “What’s that?”

“Dinner!” You said eagerly, taking his hand. “Come on. You want to see what I love about home? I’ll show you.”

The dinner hall was a sturdy building, bigger than the others. People filtered in, all soaked from the rain, so yours and Oberyn’s wet state wasn’t unusual.

“The dog keeper is home!” Someone said cheerily, seeing you showing Oberyn how to quickly towel his hair dry. Immediately, people began to crowd you, hugging you and asking why you’d returned.

“Oh,” you said, squeezing water out of your coat. “Someone asked me where I came from that would justify me calling Dorne hot as an oven. I felt compelled to show him.” You looped an arm through Oberyn’s elbow, and he looked at people you’d spent your entire life surrounded by.

“Is that Prince Oberyn Martell?” Someone finally asked in a hushed tone.

You shrugged. “Maybe in Dorne he is,” you said. “But out here, he’s just Oberyn.”

Oberyn seemed grateful, and you pulled him to a table. Food was passed around, and the conversation picked up once more. With the warm fire blazing at the front of the hall and the fall of rain against the roof, you felt more at home than you’d ever been. The people around you were your age, and they pushed you for questions about Dorne.

“Oh it’s beautiful,” you said, stirring your stew and dipping your slice of bread into your bowl. “But it’s so hot! I don’t know how those Dornishmen survive the heat in their robes!”

“We’re born there,” Oberyn said, bumping elbows with you. “Unlike you, that heat is all we’ve known.”

You grinned. “I will say, they let me play with the Prince’s dogs, so it’s not all bad.”

“Play?” Oberyn said, stunned. “You trained all the dogs! Let me tell you,” he said, turning to the people around you. “I’ve never met a better dog trainer in my life. If they weren’t so insistent upon working in the kitchens, I’d have promoted them to full time animal trainer already! Lord knows our horses need the firm hand.”

The people around you began to tell Oberyn about your past while you ate, happily telling him about how you’d once trained the village dogs to hunt in the pouring rain by slathering yourself in animal fat and racing through the woods while they hunted you down during the rainy season.

“Is that what you did with my dogs?” He asked when the story was done.

You shrugged. “More or less,” you said. “I take bits of my own breakfast and bait the girls. I told you, that was how I got them to swim so fearlessly.”

Oberyn nodded. “You know you could just ask for more food if you’re going to be sacrificing your own breakfast for my dogs.”

Another shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Did you bring the dogs?” Someone asked, and you nodded.

“Of course!” You said. “I’ll let the young ones play with them tomorrow if this rain lets up. Although, it is what I missed most.”

“The rain?” The person sitting across from you asked. “Does it not rain in Dorne?”

You sighed, mopping up the last remnants of stew with bread you’d taken from Oberyn. “Not enough,” you said wistfully. “The most it’s rained since I moved there was an hour’s worth of mild rain. And it only rains once every month! It’s hell.”

After dinner came dessert, a sweet pastry filled with oozing red berries and topped with sticky honey. It wasn’t something that was made very often, and you ate yours quickly, savoring the flavors. Oberyn was more hesitant, and was a bit more dignified. However, no amount of dignity saved him from the fruit juices dripping down his chin and you laughing at him while handing him something to wipe his face.

After all the food was eaten, you bid everyone goodbye and braved the rain yet again. It was lighter now, and the children were chasing each other around, happily shouting and playing with the sturdy village hunting dogs. There was no rush for anything, and you didn’t hurry home. Instead, you walked slowly, despite the light rain, taking in all that you’d lost when you left. Oberyn held your hand, the hood of his robe pulled up over his head. He looked at ease here.

When you reached your house, the rain was no more than a light mist, and you eagerly pulled Oberyn around back. The sun was almost gone, but the final rays soaked the land in gold, illuminating the rolling hills and picturesque plains.

“Take a deep breath,” you said softly, seeing Oberyn’s eyes go wide. “And tell me what you smell.”

Oberyn took a breath, staying silent for a moment. “I can’t describe it,” he said, voice soft with awe. “It smells like earth and water and something not of this world.”

“It’s called petrichor,” you said. “The smell of rain on dry soil.”

A delicate silence lapsed over you two, bound only by your connected hands as you watched the sun fully set. Once the sky was dark, you pulled Oberyn inside, handing him a towel so he could dry off.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, stripping out of your soaked clothes and hanging them to dry on a line.

Oberyn, who was in another room for privacy, made a small noise. “I don’t know. A week? I must return at some point.”

You smiled, pulling on a linen shift and tossing another log into the fire that the dogs were surrounding. “I agree. I suppose the girls I work with will be disappointed if I don’t return.”

Oberyn came out of the room wearing a shift identical to yours. He began to hang his clothes beside yours. “It’s nice here,” he said. “I don’t know why anyone would ever want to leave.”

“I didn’t,” you reminded him. “If I’d been able to, I would’ve stayed here all my life. But then I would’ve never met you or your dogs.”

Oberyn smiled, sitting beside the dogs and gesturing you close. You sat with him, facing the fire. Hestia woke up, set her head in your lap, and fell asleep immediately after. You stroked her ears, humming to yourself. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

“Thank you for allowing me to come along,” Oberyn replied.

As you grew more and more tired, you finally relented and stood to go to sleep. “You’re welcome to join me,” you said to Oberyn. “I apologize, but there’s only one bed.”

Oberyn stood. “It’s fine. We can share.”

You took the right side of the bed and Oneryn took the left, you giving him an extra blanket when he started to shiver. His chills never faded, and you did the only thing left. You shifted in the bed, curling up against Oberyn’s chest and wrapping your arms around his middle, giving him your body heat.

“Your Dornish blood is at a cruel disadvantage out here,” you said softly, and you felt Oberyn chuckle.

“I’ll just have to adapt,” he murmured.

The next morning, you woke to no rain and a perfectly blue sky. Oberyn stayed asleep as you got dressed, made breakfast, and let the dogs out to play with the eagerly waiting children. As Oberyn’s dogs raced off to entertain the kids, you sat beside an open window, waiting for Oberyn to wake up.

When he finally did, he sat across from you at the tiny table and slowly began to eat, blinking sleepily at you from time to time.

“Good morning sleepy head,” you said finally, once the food had all been eaten and Oberyn looked a bit more awake. “How’d you sleep?”

Oberyn looked up at you. “Great. Where are the girls?”

“Outside with the kids,” you said, pointing out the window, where you could see the dogs running around with the children. “We’ll hunt them later, but for now, let them have their fun.”

“Ah.” Oberyn nodded. “Okay. So what do we do?”

You shrugged. “Typically, I’d have been working for a while by now.”

“We could work.”

“With those hands?” You said, taking Oberyn’s hands in your own. “Your skin isn’t accustomed to my kind of work, it would split immediately.”

Oberyn smiled. “So what do we do?” He asked again.

You squeezed his hands. “Whatever we want, Oberyn.”

“What if I want to go back to bed with you by my side?” Oberyn asked.

“Well then.” You stood, shedding your coat. “I guess we better get going.”

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Bloody is the path for revenge. An Oberyn Martell x GN!reader. Game of thrones Space AU.

#Writer Wednesday 05/05/2021

Thanks again to @autumnleaves1991-blog for this, I’ve never being this prolific in writing in my life and actually have been more consistent in it thanks to this

Summary: King’s Landing is a ruthless place, a big mass of a planet city where the less fortunate tries to survive in the lower levels and the rich thrives on the top playing their dangerous games. Many years ago, the Lannisters claimed the power from the Targaryens killing everyone in their way men, woman and children even if they were innocent of their family’s crimes; Ellia Martell and her children were amongst them, and since then his brother has tried to bring to justice those who ordered her killing. But you know there’s no justice in this world and if Oberyn tries to do anything to the Lannisters they will respond in violence and threatening his life. The life of the one you love the most

Word count: 4,4 k (One day I’ll write something short for Writer Wednesday but today it’s not that day)

Warning: Cannon divergence from the show and the books, violence, mentions of blood, shots, and explosions. +18 SMUT light descriptive sex (mention of penetration, orgasms and kissing but nothing too explicit)

A/N: What the fuck is this? You may ask, well I don’t know what to tell you, my friend. I swear I didn’t smoke anything writing this just thought how to twist a little the image we got for this week. I decided to change Ellia’s murder by the way, she’s shot dead, plain and simple, I’ve always been left with a terrible sensation every time I read/watched the show or books and they mentioned how she died. If you feel the same just know there’s no mention of rape in this or any kind of sexual violence. This is my first time writing for a gender neutral reader PLEASE PLEASE, let me know if there’s some mentions of the readers gender or something I have not seen. The only detail is that Oberyn is bigger and taller than you, the rest is pretty vague.

“Don’t leave me alone in this world”

“Never”

He says that but he kisses you as if it is his last day on earth. His plump lips force yours open until he’s caressing your mouth with his tongue. A moan resounds in his chest over yours and you feel you heart beating fast, he always ignites a fire inside of you as the blazing core of the earth burns and moves creating earthquakes and changing the shape of the earth. And he has change you, shape you into a different person, you’re wilder, more sure of yourself, passionate and freer, embracing all of you without shame. His love has burn you new as a phoenix. So because of it all, you cannot possible let him leave your bed, you cannot let him die or even come close to it. There’s no way.

You open your eyes when he separates himself from you and you see a sweet smile shining on his face, his eyes still close lingering in the pleasure of having kissed you, of being held in your arms, locking your hands on his strong and broad shoulders with the remaining heat between your bodies. You woke up crying, dreaming of blood and violence and before you opened your eyes, he was hugging you so tightly that all you could think and feel was him and his warm skin.

“My love” he whispered in your ear and then you turned desperate to kiss him to feel that he was still there with you

“I had a nightmare that you left me before I woke up” you cried and brought his weight over your body

“Shh, shh” he hushed and kissed your forehead “I’m still here and...” your lips cut whatever he was about to say and you held his handsome face in your arms and then you let your hands wander over his body: his tense muscles, his scars on his tanned skin, he tried to stop you feeling how your tears still rolled over your cheeks but you begged and plead “Love me please, please I need you in me” and he can’t refuse. You made love slowly, deep and precise thrusts, mouth over mouth murmuring sweet nothings and praises. You fell asleep as soon as he finished, feeling so full of him, so relaxed and warm, relishing in the heat he has left in you.

Hours later, you felt how he moved and that he was about to get up, but you reached for his arm and now here you both are, your nails pressing deep on his arms.

“Let it go, please. You can stay with me, find another way. I don’t want you to die”

“Today it’s not the day I die” he smiles at you fondly brushing his knuckles over your face

“You don’t know that” you shake your head, your voice sound squeaky “Those bastards don’t know what honor is, Oberyn, you keep thinking you will find justice. There’s no justice in this dreadful place”

“I will make my own and please, my love, don’t underestimate me. I know my enemy, I’ve known them since they decided to kill my sister and his children, observed them patiently and now it’s time for them to pay for their crimes” when he mentions his family his jaw clenches and his deep eyes somehow become darker glowing with sorrow and anger.

“We could think of other way...”

“There’s no other way”

King’s landing is a massive chunk of metal, of buildings that top one another until the city raises kilometers away from the ground, leaving a clear distinction between the lower levels where the poor people survive and the highest part where the elite look upwards always climbing to the sky above and the stars crushing and stomping on the less fortunate. You’re somehow in the middle of it. You live in a beautiful needle like tower, a golden palace called Sunspear, in the south part of the town from your apartment balcony the impressive domes of the Red Keep shine from afar and your stomach turns.

The gigantic castle is the center of all, a bleeding heart in the middle of the immense planet city and it harbors the Government, the Power, the Judge and Punisher of this terrible place: the Lannisters. A criminal family wrapped up in golden clothes, golden hair and melted gold in their jewels. But criminals nonetheless, just rose in the right moment and killed the right people; one of them your lover’s dear sister, Ellia and her children.

The late rulers of the city, the ones that conquered and settle on this earth on the first place, the Targaryens, ruled with an iron fist with their Dragons technology, metallic robotic beasts that surveyed, killed and control the city without the need of any man and soon only their shadow over the sky made people tremble and any thought of protest, criminal plans or illegal activities remained on the lower slums where they could not reach as freely.

But crime grows like an infection and soon enough there was a Targaryen king that thought that the end justifies the means and that there’s only one way to get rid of a putrid member; amputating it. So the Dragons did control the slums, burning them down to the ground. Those drastic measures had consequences and of course soon the protests against their cruelty grew stronger, and the protests leaded to insurrection and the Lannisters presented themselves as the golden saviors only to be even crueler than those they had usurped.

And those who were related in any way to the Targaryens were killed without a trial, like Ellia, trapped in the Red Keep by an unsatisfactory marriage to one member of the family. And Oberyn tried, ran to the castle to beg mercy for her innocent sister when the Coup succeeded but ended just collecting her corpse. “She was caught in cross fire” they said but her wounds were clearly a mark of an execution, and seeing himself alone in a chaotic world without allies and without enough power, Oberyn waited, observed and mourned, let his rage grow stronger and deep, a pain like thorns in his chest that even though it hurt, it didn’t compromised his kindness.

He found you in that state, a broken man with a warm smile like the sun, and you were a street rat, a slum orphan kid that lost everything even before you were aware of what family, love or possessions meant. You survived however you could, you were not proud of your beginnings, you were not proud of how you met him: trying to rob him.

“I don’t have much, love” he had said, not threaten at all of your weapon pointed at his chest

“You’re one of those top bastards, of course you have. Give me your rings” you blurted. He complied with a smile and tossed the golden rings to you; but the one on his thumb. “All of them” you spat

“This one, if you please, I’d like to keep. It was a gift from somebody that it’s not longer with me” he said and something in your chest moved after years and years of creating a hard armor over your feelings.

“Alright, now empty your pockets” you said bending down to gather his rings and in that he moved faster than you had seen anybody react and in a swift movement he got you cornered on the wall and disarmed.

“You have to always choose your opponents wisely, my sweet” he said really close to your face. You moaned, tried to think that the sound coming from your mouth was out of fear and his bigger and heavy body over yours, but deep down you knew that his amber perfume, his deep voice and those eyes had awaken something else in you. “You look positively famish and neglected of many things, my sweet. Come with me” And you did and you will always follow him since that day. But today he has chosen a path that you cannot keep. Today your fears had come true, you have always think that your love could cure him, that it could be stronger and enough to calm his need for vengeance. But it is not.

History tends to repeat itself and now the Lannisters are suffering the same fate they created for their predecessors. They’re in their lowest point and they’re destroying themselves from within, betraying their own family members, and when Oberyn saw this as his perfect chance to finally plot his vengeance, you saw that dark pain eating the light, the love, the passion and the kindness, dominating everything else that was in his heart. Now he only sees vengeance and the cold blade of justice cutting their throats.

The sun pierces the pollution and the clouds in an orange and pink palette announcing the beginning of a new day and the trial starts at midday. They’re accusing Tyrion, the youngest of the Lannisters’ siblings, and demanding the death penalty for killing the heir to the throne. And Oberyn in a surprising turns of events has accorded to represent him on the trial or that’s what everybody thinks. The oldest law in the planet, one settled since Aegon Targaryen, the conqueror, is that a defendant can have a final statement before his sentence and everything he says in that moment must be taken in to account if he, by any chance, confesses other crimes or accomplices in the crime being judged.

Oberyn could never bring Ellia’s murder to justice but if Tyrion confesses that he heard his father give the order to kill Ellia and her children then he cannot be killed until that crime is investigated and judged thus saving, for the time being, his life and giving Oberyn the chance of presenting his case against those who killed his family. In a fair world, that could work. But you know his honor and idealism clouds his judgment, they will never let Tyrion confess in public how they ordered to kill innocent children in cold blood, they will never let Oberyn win. They’re desperate now, less concern about their public image and much more drastic in their measures; another thing they have now in common with the past rulers. They’ll do anything to remain in power, and those little legal tricks won’t be enough to stop them. They will take any means necessary to remain in power. Anything.

“We should be going, sir” the security guard announces from the digital pad on the door

“My love” Oberyn adjusts his tunic, an old gold fabric that resembles the million sun panels that covers Sunspear and he looks as the sun, he warms your life, gives you the energy to wake up and you wish this sun, your sun, never sets and leaves you in the dark “If you don’t want to come, I’ll understand”

You run to him and grab his forearms “I will never leave you. I’ll be there as long as you need me”

Weeks before the trial

Even though you’ve climbed on the social ladder and also in a literal way, you are and you will always be a street rat, a lower scum and in that you know many like you. And they’re useful, you know people that could do anything, that know how to find anything or anyone. The lower levels are a wild jungle of metallic junk, holograms screens selling whatever you wish for and dangerous people. But you know your way there and navigated the streets until you found what you wanted.

“So it’s pretty damaged, I had to reprogram everything and search for parts anywhere and those I didn’t find I had to customize” Chips explained uncovering the thing inside his garage. Chips is your friend, shared the same dirty full of lice bed in the orphanage, he didn’t have a name and was given one by the caretakers but preferred the nickname you gave them. He was always since he was a little kid playing with some wires, chips and computers parts and now he had created a place in the slums, mainly because of what he did it’s not really legal. He hacks technology, can get himself inside any web, any software and devastate any system he wants. He does it all in this dirty garage, lighted in neon lights that you don’t know you he stands it, every wall is covered in screens, old technology and devices you don’t understand.

“You know anything you need I will pay double, Chips. I need this working properly, it’s extremely important” you said

“Thank you, Chips” you nodded

“And it will, you will have complete control over it on your holo bracelet” he assured and gave you the small black device that you tied around your wrist “When it is time, you just have to activate it” and he showed you the control app on the floating screen over your hand

“Do you really want to do this? You can’t control the consequences once you active it” he asked eyeing the thing with a worried look

“The consequences if I don’t use it will be far worse”

The trial

“Father, I wish to confess” the short blond man says on the stand, he’s secured inside a protection field that is otherwise invisible except when the neon lights from the ceiling hit it and it shines with a bluish light.

The hundred something audience member gasp in unison and you know the whole city has had the same reaction whilst watching in it live stream in the millions of holoscreens around King’s Landing.

“I didn’t kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had” he spats and the people present scream and insult him. Oberyn stands by his side and you cannot see his face from your seat in the grandstand but his fists are clenched and his posture is tense. “He was a vicious demon, a murderer and sadist as every member of this family”

“Tyrion if you do not wish to confess this is useless” Tywin Lannister, the patriarch, moves in his seat uncomfortable.

“As I was saying, father, he was a murderer like his family, like you” people rise from their seats now, you stay in your little corner while the crowd waits for the rest of the confession with their mouths wide open “You ordered, years ago, to kill in cold blood innocent people, you ordered your beast” he points to the corner of the big throne room where the tallest man you’ve ever seen stands among other guards “to kill every woman, children or baby that was related to the Targaryens, servants or noble; like Ellia Martell and her children”

“Silence!” Tywin raises from his seat, his pale skin is red, a sharp contrast to his all black tunic “Take the prisoner back to his chamber until a sentence has been declared”

“Wait!” Oberyn walks towards the center of the scene with his hand raised “The defendant has confessed being witness to a crime, by the old law of Aegon, the conqueror; he cannot be put to sentence until that crime has been judged. And you, Lord Tywin, will have to address those accusation in a proper trial” You see from the corner he has a smirk on his face while the older man glares at him with his eyes full of hate.

“Isn’t it that convenient for you?” Cersei Lannister cries from her seat, the mourning mother has been quite the whole trial but her eyes red and weeping had been fixed on her brother and now Oberyn with the same anger. “You’ve spreading those lies and accusations for years and now you conspire with my murderer brother to hurt my family” her voice break and the audience gasps again clearly entertain with this turning of events

“Accusations that now have to be clarified in a trial as it was always dismissed by your authority” Oberyn responds pointing with his finger to the whole Lannister court

“It was a time of war, an unfortunate accident” Tywin hisses

“Well now you could prove it and end those accusations, don’t you?” Oberyn smiles wildly but it feels like more like a viper openning its mouth to show you its weapons before biting.”I demand that the defendant is released from your custody and it will remain with me until trial”

“That’s surprising, are you accusing us of plotting to hurt him in anyway?” Tywin tilts his head to Oberyn, challenging him, and you know he has something in mind. You’re so tense that you don’t realize you were not breathing until your chest hurts. You activate your holobracelet looking at the small bottom waiting for the perfect moment.

“I’m saying he’s accused of a heinous crime and clearly has gained the hatred of the people, being here could make it really easy for anybody to hurt him while on custody. So I suggest a secured and secret location for the moment”

“Tyrion has the means to escape and leave the planet; we could not possibly let him go” says an old man from the Council

“He will remain in the Red Keep” Tywin states

“I think I still have my right to testify, father” Cersei raises from her seat with a coy smirk

“You can give a final statement, yes” he agrees

“Oberyn Martell has agreed to defend my brother from this terrible murder, has been seeing with him before in very dubious places and now he accuses us of murder and plot to kill a prisoner in custody in order to keep Tyrion on his care. I think it’s fair to think that he could have some interest in this, maybe even be part of a larger plot against us, he has always hate our family for a crime we didn’t commit”

The uproar in the room is way stronger this time, some assistants can’t even be kept on their seats, and the guards form a line between the grandstand and the platform were the trail is taken place. You move, your heart beats are loud in your ear, as you go down the stand closer to where Oberyn stands.

“I firmly believe we should have a line of investigation on this, so you, Oberyn and your client should stay on the Red Keep until everything is clarified” Tywin doesn’t hide his pride. You knew that this will happen; they have neither honor nor a care for justice. And you knew they will find a way to hurt him if he ever became bolder in his way to get justice for his sister.

Oberyn is screaming something but you cannot hear him with all the crossed accusations and the audience, but the guards had walked towards him, they’re moving Tyrion from his stand and cornering your lover.

“Raise your hands, sir” they scream at him “Calm down”

You know their tactics, you know that any movement he will do can justify that they shot him down or hurt him. If he raises his hands they can say he was about to punch them, if he doesn’t he didn’t comply. Anyway Oberyn’s life is threatened. So you know it’s time.

You open the hologram screen on your bracelet and tap on the small logo with trembling fingers, until the screen shows an ACTIVITED sign in green.

You were a small child, probably a baby when you were met with one of those things, so you don’t remember how silent they are. It was made like that so they could strike any possible threats without given them the chance to escape. So the dust hits you first, before you or anyone could hear it. The right wall of the throne room collapses and you see the screens and the wires and the metal breaking and the ancient brick walls inside of them. A blazing sun hits second, a red and orange light until you feel the heat. That’s not the sun. It’s fire.

The beast enters and now you can hear it, its motors propel it inside the room and in doing so completely destroy the west side of the Keep. It actually looks like a dragon; a fearsome large metallic face spitting fire but the rest of its body is a triangular black shape more like the commercial flight transports but way bigger.

The clouds of dust makes it impossible for you to find Oberyn, you just hope he hasn’t been hit by the debris in the explosion.

“Oberyn” you scream and cough

You find some guards on the ground some of them evidently dead others are just knockout, and in the middle of it you find him, he had protected his head with his arms, his golden attire is dusty but you don’t see signs of bleeding. You bend down and try to get him up, but he’s heavy

“Come on, my love, we have to go!” he doesn’t respond and your heart skips a beat what if you killed him trying to save him?

But he coughs softly at first and then louder and raises his face confused and wander his eyes until he finds you “We have to go Oberyn, come on” he moves slowly but you gather strength and get his arm over yours and push him towards the abyss on the west wall. And you jump.

Being a slum rat you had always fear being on the top of the buildings, never actually looking from the border of the balcony when you moved with Oberyn, but now you jumped with your eyes closed, holding his body, the body of your lover, your whole life tightly against yours. For a moment you feel the emptiness of space and air until your body hits something hard.

“We have to fly faster; I think the whole building is going to collapse” Chips helps you take a seat on the flying car and you secure Oberyn on the seat beside you. He’s still dazed so he doesn’t say a thing; clearly he doesn’t understand what’s going on. You hope that you hadn’t inflicted some brain damaged. Chips speeds up the vehicle going in a sharp line downwards making the rest of the traffic move to let you pass and avoid a crash.

“We will have to hide on the slums for a moment” he screams over the speed breaking the air

No brain damage, his eardrums are broken but they will heal fast with the drugs Chips has bought in the dark market. He has a great concussion on his back and some scratches on his face, legs and arms. But he’s alive and well. You wait on a very uncomfortable chair looking at him, his tall and broad body doesn’t fit in that small cheap bed but for the moment it will have to do. He has been sleeping for a few hours now and when you’re about to doze off, he coughs trying to call your name.

“Sh, sh, calm down my love” you say when he tries to get up “Drink some water” you serve him in a plastic cup and approach the bed

“What?” he screams and contorts his face once he feels the pain

“Your ears” you pronounce every syllable so he can read your lips “Rest now, it will heal in a few hours”

He drinks looking at you confused over the cup and lies down again but he looks at you intently “what have you done?” he murmurs

You sleep a few hours, Chips keeps doing his thing drinking too much of those energy drinks. At least twenty screens shows different news reports, the images of the trial and the “terrorist attack” as they’re calling it thereafter.

“What have you done with it?” you ask

“I programmed it to self destroy after you deactivated it. Too dangerous on the wrong hands” he explains

“And who are you referring to with “wrong hands?” a deep and husky voice says behind you.

You see the horror in his eyes when he watches the images of the Dragon entering the throne room and burning and destroying everything on its way.

“Oberyn” you whisper

“What have you done?” he asks again, his brown eyes glow in tears

“I did what I have to do” you simply shrug “I couldn’t let you get yourself killed, those people were about to lock you on the Red Keep and next thing I know they will give me your dead body back as they did with your sister” your voice cracks once you try to approach him and he recoils in fear

“You’ve killed innocent people” Oberyn lets his body hit the wall and you see his legs shake still too weak to stand

“They were enjoying that mockery of a trial seeing a poor man being sentence to death” you defend

“And now they’re all dead”

“We’re still waiting for the reports but...”Chips adds but shuts it once you both look angrily at him

“Oberyn” you come close your hands open to him, begging to touch him but he shakes his head

“Oberyn please” you say again

“No” he refuses and now you see he’s crying, his shoulders shake and he covers his face on his hands

“Then listen to me” you face him still letting him have his space “I couldn’t live in a world where you’re not with me. I knew they will try to kill you and I felt powerless, I had to do something, I have to save you as you saved me years ago. I love you, Oberyn, more than my own life, more than my heart, my eyes and my soul and if I have to burn empires to the ground for you, I will and I did”

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I just had this CRAZY thought just now. I was reading the manga (volume or book 19) and I reached the end and I saw a drawing that sparked this idea. (also I want this to be a request if you want.)

Yami and the black bulls know its Nozel's birthday and they decided to pull a prank on Nozel. So the black bulls get contact to everyone Nozel knows and they tell them to ignore him. (For reasons.) Then Noelle get A hold of Solid and Nebra and tell them the same. But. There's A twist. They get him to distract him while the black bulls sneak into the Silva estate and they have a BUNCH of sticky notes. (You can already pick up where I'm going with this.) And the sticky notes are all PiNk and purple.

While Nozel is out tending with Nebra and Solid's demands the black bulls are covering Nozel's office, bathroom, bedroom, and study in PiNk and purple sticky notes. (Bathroom with also have bubbles everywhere bc why not?) (( somewhere on the line they get the Vermillions to help out with "decorating" the living room with pink decorations.))

the black bulls get done roughly quick and hide in Nozel's un-decorated closet and look out between the cracks.

This is roughly the same time Nozel gets home from doing whatever. Walks to the house and...

"Surprise!!! Happy Birthday!" Everyone who ignored him was there and have him a happy birthday! And Confetti gets shot everywhere.

Nozel about has A heart attack. But he asks who planned this and Yami says,

"Your sister says it's payback for what you did to her for years on end. So maybe next time don't bully people braid face, cause you never know when your next."

Then after all that they had fun teasing Nozel. Then after that, the party was over and everyone leaves. Except, Noelle. Who's been hiding in Nozel's closet with a few drinks and snacks from charmy just waiting for Nozel to come upstairs and into his room.

Once he does, he steps inside, Noelle's recording it all,

"What the hell?!" Nozel literally shouts. "Someone better be cleaning this up!"

End. Ig...

(A bit childish but it seemed better in my head....)

Hiya anon!

Ah, the sticky note and bubble prank. Both are a pain to clean up. (So, poor servants) 😅

I could see this as a Petite Clover kind of a thing 🤔 Though Nozel would be very much irritated having to run errands for Nebra and Solid. And coming home to all that, I think he'd snap 😭

And Nozel... I don't really know... I'm feeling bad for him atm. As in, personally I believe that he knows that what he did was wrong, but... as a 15-year-old, thrown into the position that he.. was thrown into, he made a decision. I'm not saying that it was the right decision, but ... it was a decision, and one he made with the best of intentions. (Plus we haven't seen Papa Silva that much, so to me he's an absent/uncaring father, who basically dumped everything onto Nozel's shoulders.) So... taking revenge, even if through a prank, onto Nozel it's... I just feel bad for him. And to me, Nozel is a victim of their father in a way as well.

I can see the comedy value in this, but I can't help but think this from Nozel's perspective as well. As in, you're a Silva, your birthdays are always cold, fancy on the surface, but all a show nonetheless. Perhaps even a painful reminder that the one parent who loved you, isn't there to congratulate you. You'd give/receive gifts, but only because it's customary. And the day would be nothing but a painful farce and a reminder. Then your siblings have you run around the capitol, perhaps even the kingdom, doing unimportant tasks for the whole day. It's already mentally straining, but now you're also physically tired, and then you come home, only to find everything covered with sticky notes. He can't sleep. He can't take a breather, and instead he's being served a "payback" for all the wrong he did to Noelle.

Maybe I'm just a bit too serious, and un-fun, but I just... I kinda feel like it'd be like kicking a man when he's down. Again, I'm not saying that what Nozel did was right, but... If Noelle really wanted to get retribution, what would really suffice? And even if Noelle got even with Nozel, would it really make their relationship better? I'm actually very much hoping that Noelle and Nozel could kick Megi's butt together so that they'd both get closure and get to grow closer together.

Hmm... suppose that I've never been a pranking person, and this is where it shows 😅

But thank you for sharing 💕💕💕