#which is what she did: and why she was able to rise to such great power

[amabela-14]

I'm mentally ill so have some lyrics

One for Julios

And one for Desna!

[annwrites]

⸻ sons & daughters. part five.

· pairing: cregan stark x velaryonprincess!reader · type: part of a series · summary: your heart is broken multiple times in one day & just when you feel at the end of your rope—unable to take anymore—your heart is mended by another's loving, steady hands. · word count: 7,815

When you wake the next morning, it is with a sense of belonging. For the first time in all your life.

A contended smile spreads across your lips as you snuggle further into your furs.

Furs which still smell of him.

Last night, you had begun to drift off in Cregan’s arms, your body feeling light and warm, so he had picked you up and carried you over to your bed, so you might rest.

He’d bent down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then brushing one over your lips, and as soon as he made to step away, you’d reached out for him, grabbing his fingertips, and asked him to stay.

He’d not refused. Instead, he had laid down next to you, wrapping you in his arms once more as the two of you continued to share soft kisses and gentle touches before you closed yours eyes for the night.

After breaking your fast, even if you had felt too excited to eat, Alia helps you dress. Afterward, you hug her with joy, to which she is quite taken aback, but she only laughs and tells you that you are welcome and she then leaves you.

You begin to open the door to your room, wishing desperately to seek Cregan out, just to be near him. Wherever he goes today—whatever he does—you only want to be beside him during.

And that is when you hear the news.

Your door is open no more than a crack—barely, at that—and you watch in silence at two older men go walking by.

“Yes, Lord Stark is most certainly considering a betrothal to the Lady Blackwood. It would do well to have such an arrangement in the possible wars to come. Their forces joined with ours would add volume to our ranks.”

The second man hums. “He has ruminated on the offer for some time. I believe it bodes well, however, that he has not rejected it outright. He is, instead, as always, acting with caution and measured thought. The loss of the Lady Arra was keenly felt by all, but it is time.”

You softly shut your door, pressing your forehead to it as your stomach twists so painfully it makes you wince—your bowels turning to water.

You’d trusted him. How…how could you have done such a thing?

Why did you not listen to Jace instead? He's a young man himself, and thus knows their ways of thinking.

Lord Stark had played you quite well, like that of a game of Cyvasse.

He’d slowly drawn you in by bestowing you with his attentions—pretending that he cared—and then had given you small touches and suggestive comments to preen your interest, showering you with gifts and compliments, until your head was spinning and you couldn’t think straight. Or, until all you could think of was love.

You had been raised in King's Landing of all places. What, then? Had you truly—in a matter of only a handful of days—forgotten how to read someone when they are lying to you?

And he had spoken of honor.

Mayhaps he has it, but not when it comes to you.

No. Never you.

And you'd let him into your bed. Nothing had happened—not yet—but now… Now you understood why he had asked for ‘more time’. More time to wrap you round his finger until he was able to finally claim what he desired from you, only to then marry another.

No one will ever want you for love.

You should’ve never started believing otherwise. Not for a day, or a moment.

Coming here had been a great mistake. You regret ever having met him now.

Tears sting your eyes and bile rises in your throat as you think of last night. You, seated in his lap as you allowed his hands to wander.

Whore.

That is what you are.

First, you had permitted Aemond to touch you in such ways—had let him to whisper and insinuate vile things toward you—and just allowed it—because you had actually enjoyed it.

You are not a princess who possesses self-respect. You are instead… You are your mother’s daughter. A mother who has now bedded how many men? You have her disposition.

Don’t you?

Harlot.

You squeeze your eyes shut, struggling to breathe. The room is too cramped. Too crowded. You feel like you are suffocating.

You wrench your door open, needing to be outside. You’ll go to the Godswood. You want to be alone. You begin to mentally pray that he stays away from you.

You need think on how best to word to Jace that you wish to go home now. You won’t tell him anything about Lord Stark because, no matter what has transpired between the two of you, you all need the northern army.

You will tell him that you are not faring well in this northern weather. That you have changed your mind. Going to the Wall would be—at least for you—ill-advised. A foolish thing to consider in the first place, as it is not a place for women. You will thus not intrude.

You nearly slip going down the stairs which lead into the Great Hall, but catch yourself, choking back a sob, your heart having jumped into your throat.

You walk briskly toward the doors which lead outside, and then with bleary eyes, step out. You lower your head, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

Alone.

You want to be left alone.

You wrap your arms round yourself, having forgotten your cloak.

You do not want the one he purchased for you now, knowing it is a lie. Same as the items he’d procured for you yesterday.

You will leave them behind when you go. You want nothing more from him.

It is just as you are about to pass the stables that you hear a young man calling for you. “Princess Y/N!”

You quickly wipe hot tears from your cheeks before turning back to him, refusing to meet his eyes.

“A raven came for you,” he states, holding a scroll toward you.

You gingerly take it from him with a slight nod. “Thank you.”

When Cregan emerges into the yard, a broad smile crosses his lips just at the mere sight of you.

Gods, how good it had felt to have you in his arms the night last.

You, curled into his side, tucked close with furs all around you as you dreamt—one of your soft, dainty hands resting over his heart, which now belongs wholly to you.

He had laid there for awhile—a long while (So long, in fact, that he had nearly fallen asleep beside of you, but refused to, even if he'd desperately wished for as much. He would not risk a servant, or even your brother—his new close friend—finding him with you in such a state, ruining your reputation; it means far too much to him. You do.)—imagining each night for the rest of his days being that way.

To have you lain bare beside him as he runs his rough hands along your soft body, telling you how beautiful and dear you are to him—that he will spend the rest of his days caring for and protecting you—he can imagine no finer fate.

The Gods blessed him by sending you to him.

You are meant to be together as one.

Now and always.

He had worried for so long after Arra passed that his grief would never cease, until it eventually turned to numbness. But when he set eyes upon you that first day as you looked around you in wonder at his home, his body awakened once more. After that, he could do naught else but think of you.

The morning he sparred with Jace, his irritation had partially been due to finding out you mayhaps loved another, yes, but also due to his advisors. If he heard the name 'Black Aly' one more time, he'd been sure he would fly into a black rage.

And he nearly had.

He didn't wish for her. He wished for genteelness. And there you were before him at last.

Cregan only manages not even a handful of steps in your direction before he stops, his brows furrowing as he watches your disposition suddenly change.

You stare down at a piece of parchment within your hands, looking at it in disbelief—near-agony—before turning your face upward, staring into the sky as if you're looking for...explanation. For something.

He needs to know what has happened.

And then you nod softly, looking forward again, a final look of resignation crossing your features as you quickly wipe tears angrily from your cheeks, a scowl settling onto your lips as you head toward the training yard.

Jace's smile quickly fades as he sees you heading toward him looking...not yourself. Pale, angry, utterly upset.

"Sister, what is—"

You hold out the missive toward him and he takes it with furrowed brows, waiting for you to say something—anything—but you instead remain silent, staring at him, waiting for him to read.

And so he does, his expression morphing into incredulity and then horrification. He begins to shake his head rapidly, his eyes meeting your own once again.

"This—this cannot be."

"It is."

"You cannot mean to—"

"I do."

He steps closer to you. "Dalton Greyjoy is a mad-man—a bloodthirsty beast. He already has over two score wives!"

You snatch the piece of parchment from him, quickly rolling it up and clutching it in a tight grip. "And now he will have yet one more."

You clench your jaw before continuing. "He has promised to make me his rock wife—his one true bride."

"They—they call him the Red Kraken, do you not know why?!"

"Because he is a fierce warrior of the Iron Islands. We will need men like him in the wars to come."

"You are better than this," he tries to insist.

And it is then that you snap. "This is what I am!" You shout, shaking the correspondence held tightly within your fist.

You force yourself to quiet, now that curious eyes are looking your way.

"He has a fleet of ships and fearless reavers. They will do us well against the Greens."

"We have a fleet through Lord Corlys," he snaps back.

"And now we shall have a larger one. As of this moment, I consider myself Lord Greyjoy's betrothed. He desires a princess, so a princess he shall have."

He shakes his head, grabbing your arm, desperate to talk you out of this.

You are not thinking clearly.

"You will be miserable there. You...you will waste away at Pyke as—as lonely and—"

You take a step back, yanking your arm from his grip. "As you said, he has a great many wives. Plenty to share in my misery. We shall do so together."

"What of Cregan? I had thought that the two of you...that something more was developing."

Your eyes turn hard, hateful. "We have nothing. He is our ally. That is all. I cannot wait for a proposal that will never come. I have one here and now, and I must take it before another claims him as their Lord Husband instead."

He scoffs, shocked at your flippant attitude toward a man he had been sure he had seen you only a day past looking at with love.

"I need you to promise me that come first light tomorrow you will return me to Dragonstone to inform mother that I have accepted and must be delivered at once to Pyke."

Tears sting his eyes. His sister. His twin. He...he can't just let you do this.

"Sister, please—"

"Promise me, Jace, or I will make arrangements myself."

There is a terse silence, and then he nods in surrender.

You turn to walk away then, unable to discuss it any further.

It is done.

"I had merely hoped for better prospects for you," he calls softly from behind you.

You stand with your back to him for just a moment as you quickly reply. "Better isn't coming, Jace. War is. And we must all play our part."

You continue on, mumbling, with a sneer, "Including me."

Cregan stumbles back at your words, hiding himself in the armory, eavesdropping through a window as you renounce yourself—your future—to one where you will be tore to a thousand pieces until not a single whole one remains.

All in the name of what? Your family winning a sea-faring battle or two?

You had said the two of you had nothing. Why...why would you think such a thing? Mayhaps because he had asked for time, and in this moment, you filled with doubt toward him.

No one will ever want me for love.

He has now made you think of him as just one more man who sees you as only what you are, instead of who. All the touches and suggestive looks...

Oh Gods, what has he fucking done?

He's about to lose you.

The future which he had envisioned, between waking fantasies and sleeping dreams now rests upon a precipice. One you are about to step over the edge of, never to return to him.

The thought of you there in one of those towering castles over the sea, staring out the window, empty and hopeless and heartbroken with not a single soul to save you from not just him, but yourself—a nightmarish fate—he can't bear the thought.

He clutches his chest, coughing, his heart squeezing painfully. An all-too familiar feeling he'd thought he'd long moved past some time after Arra's passing, but it returns to him now at the thought of you walking away from him. From the North.

It's your home now. It's meant to be. You are supposed to remain here where you most belong. The Gods themselves had ordained it.

He looks down to the scroll protruding from his pocket, meant to be flown to your mother to ask her for your hand, and he knows: his time to do things right by you has already run out in an instant.

There will be no asking her now, but instead you.

Your wishes are all that matter in this moment.

He has to save you. He...he has to keep you where you are loved and wanted and safe.

He steps out, heading back inside, knowing what he must now do.

Once you have returned to your chambers, you lock the door and step swiftly over to your wardrobe, ripping gowns from the hangers—you hear one tear, but care not—and begin stuffing them into the bag you had brought with you.

You angrily wipe gathering tears from your bleary eyes as you grab your shoes from beneath your bed and pack them away as well.

And then you spot it. The cloak he had gifted you.

You swipe it from the back of the settee and make to throw it into the fire, but pause, your fist hovering just before the flames, the black material softly swaying.

You then cry out in frustration and toss it into a corner.

No one will ever want you for love.

You throw your bag so hard against a chair that it scoots a few inches across the floor.

You then bury your face in the mattress and scream, clutching the sheets, the furs, losing yourself.

You gasp for air, hand settling over your abdomen as you try to calm it, fearing you may be sick.

No one will ever want you for love.

You tear at the back of your gown, you rip the sleeves off, as well as the neckline and it finally pools at your feet. You crawl into bed then and cry yourself back to sleep.

No one will ever marry you for love.

Your brows furrow.

You...you're not meant to be here. You don't want to be. Why have you returned to the Red Keep?

You step closer to a window. Snow...in the south and during the summer. Something isn't right.

Mama.

You turn down one hall and then another, until you finally reach your royal apartments.

When you step inside, she's there, but so is Daemon, the two of them twined around one another, their grasping hands dripping with blood.

"M-Mama?"

Her expression is that of indifference when she looks upon you.

Daemon smirks as he glances across the room. "You may call me father now instead."

You follow his line-of-sight and gasp, stumbling backwards, knocking something over.

A charred body lies half-inside the room's hearth, and not but a few feet from it, a golden cloak with a pile of ashes atop it.

Laenor. Harwin.

No.

No.

Not them.

Please not them.

You begin to wildly shake your head as you turn, yanking against the door's handle and when you emerge back into the hall, it has changed.

You're...you're in Winterfell, aren't you?

Dark wooden walls, braziers flickering softly, the howl of a wolf in the distant night.

"Cregan," you whisper to yourself.

He will help you.

You begin racing down the halls, heart beating wildly, unable to get that horrid sight out of your head.

And then you come to his door and you know you are safe.

You knock softly, and you hear feet padding toward you.

It opens.

"What is she doing here?" You hear a woman call from behind him as he stares down at you in irritation.

"I don't want you here," he says through clenched teeth.

You whimper in fear, tears stinging your eyes. "But—"

A lithe young woman comes around the side of him, raven-black curls falling over her shoulders, her form completely naked.

She glances to you with disinterest and then to Cregan. "Come back to bed. Forget about her."

He smiles, cupping her cheek, and nodding as he slams the door in your face.

You choke back a terrified sob, having no idea where else to now go.

No one wants you.

No one.

No one will ever want you for love.

You need to steal a horse and ride south.

To King's Landing.

Aemond.

Aemond wants you.

You will go to him. He loves you. Doesn't he?

Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon, you hear whispered in your ear from an indeterminable location.

Let us finally be free of our gilded cages, beloved niece. Together, he continues; you feeling familiar hands then holding you safely.

Yes.

Free.

You will be. Together. Just like he said.

"Sister, you must wake."

You go to swat Jace's hand away from your shoulder. "Leave me be, Jace. I wish to rest."

You shove your face into the pillow, exhausted.

"Lord Cregan has summoned us both to his solar."

"Whatever it is does not require me, I'm sure. Please, Jace, just go."

He sighs. "He has demanded us both be present. He says it's of utmost importance and cannot wait."

Your eyes slowly open, your stomach beginning to twist again. You don't want to see or be near him. Do not wish to so much as hear his voice.

The morrow cannot come soon enough.

You sit up, feeling dizzy. "Has word come from home? Has something happened?"

He shrugs. "He wouldn't say. It is why you must come at once."

You finally stand, grabbing the cloak which you rode in with and turn to him, not even bothering with shoes or proper clothing.

Jace thinks to tell you to put on a suitable dress, but when he looks into your eyes and see they are naught but void, he holds his tongue.

He wraps his arm round your shoulders as he leads you out and into the hall, and toward the awaiting Lord Cregan.

When the two of you enter the private meeting room, you merely stare at the floor as you take a seat beside Jace.

Cregan notes with dejection how you refuse to so much as look at him. How you look unkempt—your hair in tangles, only a thin cloak covering your frame, your complexion wan, and eyes puffy and red from crying.

Oh, his sweet girl.

But your pain will soon be soothed and all will be right once more.

You stare numbly out the open window to the right, drowning out whatever Lord Stark and Jace discuss. You do not much care. About anything.

Not anymore.

The full moon emerges from behind clouds, the evening sky gradually growing dark as night begins to fall.

Looking at the moon does not bring them back to you now. Nothing will.

They're gone.

Dead.

And then you wonder if Aemond can see it, too. If he is looking at it thinking of you as well. Would it be night in King's Landing? You doubt it, but when it is, perhaps he will share the sight with you.

The last time you saw him was the last, wasn't it? There would be no returning.

You hope he lets go of you and does not waste his days awaiting a girl who is now lost to him.

A tear slips down your cheek and your chin wobbles, your heart cleaving in two.

Jace is fortunate to have Baela, and Luke Rhaena. At least they will all have fondness in their marriages, if nothing else. What will you have, you wonder? A man who comes to you in the dark of night stinking of death and slick with blood as he claims what will then rightfully belong to him, even if you do not wish it.

What you want doesn't matter.

Mayhaps it never did.

A pawn to be moved about the board. That is all you are.

Mayhaps...you are not really here.

Another tear slips free and you sniffle.

Jace finally turns to you with an elated look upon his face. "What say you, then, sister?"

You slowly turn your head to look at him, your expression blank.

You blink once before standing, both men doing so as well.

You hold your cloak tightly around your trembling form. "Please, forgive me, Lord Stark, Jace. I do not feel well and wish to retire to my chambers to rest. I have a long journey tomorrow and will need it."

You go to step away, Cregan's heart beginning to break, but Jace grabs your arm. "Did you not hear what Lord Stark said?" He asks, his tone panicked.

You slip your arm from his grip. "Whatever is the matter, Jace, I am confident you and Lord Stark will resolve it together. My presence here is unnecessary."

You walk toward the door, your heart in your throat. You need to get out, need to get away from him.

No one will ever want you for love.

"Sister!" Jace calls.

"Princess. Y/N!" Cregan says, coming closer toward you.

Your twin spins you round to him, your back now pressed to the door.

You can't breathe. You just want them to let you go. You can't be here.

"Please, Jace, let me go!" You shout through blinding tears.

"Just—Y/N, listen—" he starts, but you step to the side.

"I don't feel well, please!" You choke out through violent sobs.

Gods, what is happening to you?

Finally, Cregan has had enough and lightly pushes Jace aside as he takes your face between his hands, even as you shove against his chest.

The feel of him...you do not want it. Why is he doing this?

"I have asked your brother for your hand in marriage."

You blink up at him, hiccuping, a long pause of silence.

"W-what?"

He brushes hot tears from your soft cheeks, his heart breaking at the sight of you being this distant to him.

"I would take you for my Lady Wife. Tonight."

"Why?" You ask with furrowed brows, mind spinning.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Because of your beauty, your grace, and your genteelness. Your strength and resolve to do what needs be done in the name of your family, even to your own detriment. You are loyal. And you love whom you love fiercely."

He runs his knuckles gently along your cheek. "I will admit that since the passing of my late Lady Wife that I have received a considerable amount of offers of marriage. None have yet tempted me. Until I set eyes upon you. I was captivated body and soul. The thought of relinquishing you to another who would not appreciate you..."

He shakes his head. "Who would not protect nor value you? Would not treat you as tenderly as I might? It grieves me to consider such a thing."

He takes a step closer. "So, let us prevent it: our mutual agony of losing what can so easily be ours. Agree. Take my hand. And remain in the North where you belong. By my side, where you belong. You said once that the North felt like home to you. Princess—Y/N���you feel like home to me. So do not take yourself from me in the name of a fleet of ships or a small army. I beg of you."

He leans down, kissing you, caring not for what Jace may think. "I will give you the might of the North—and you, the title of Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. I can think of no one more deserving."

You stare up at him, in disbelief, sure you are imagining this. Not hearing him correctly.

You break then, sobbing, unable to catch your breath as you drown in a sea of tears.

Cregan merely pulls you into his chest, his large hand cradling the back of your head as his other arm wraps round you to keep you close.

You don't see, but he gives Jace a silent look, asking him to leave the two of you alone for a moment.

He replies with a solemn nod, silently slipping out of the room.

Cregan presses his lips to the top of your head, your body continuing to quiver in fear.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "For allowing you to feel for even a moment that I do not love you."

You cling to him, your cries eventually quieting as a feeling of weariness instead overtakes you.

“What about Lady Blackwood?” You ask quietly.

He pulls back, continuing to hold you to him, cupping your cheek once more.

His brows furrow. “Where did you hear that name?”

“I…this morn, when I was about to leave my room I heard men in the halls. Passing by. They spoke of a betrothal to her. Rather, that you were seriously considering one…”

He understands then. You’d thought he’d been playing you like a wolf with its prey all this time, while another waited for him to take the hand of.

Gods, his poor, sweet girl.

Your eyes fill with tears again.

He tenderly tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “For some time now my advisors have tried to encourage a union between us—between me and any highborn lady, in truth—so I might produce further heirs. I waited, however. I had married once for love and…”

He sighs. “If I had to marry again out of duty, I would have. But then you came to me, and the moment I set eyes upon you, something within me shifted. It was as if I had become alive once more. The thought of losing that feeling again—losing you?”

He presses an achingly soft kiss to your lips. “It would drive me to the brink of madness.”

He lowers himself to one knee then, holding your hand. “Y/N, I beg of you, in the name of the Gods—Old and New—be my bride this night. Be my wife. My Lady. Be…mine. Let me care for and love and cherish you for the rest of my days. Rather, our days. Do not take yourself from me only to hand yourself over to a monster. I’ll do anything just to make you say yes. So, please—”

“Yes.”

He stops, relief filling his very soul. “You will?”

You nod gently. “Yes.”

He stands on two feet again, pulling you back to his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed, tears slipping down your cheeks as your heart finally calms.

“I don’t have a wedding gown,” you say quietly.

He nods. “I have something that may suit you. If it does not, wear whatever you wish. All that matters to me is that we become one this night.”

He wraps his cloak around you which hangs from his shoulders, for warmth, you enveloped in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You then stand on tiptoes, reaching for him and he leans down to meet your lips.

“And I you,” you reply, tears shimmering in your eyes.

Jace had been waiting outside as you and Cregan spoke and had been beyond pleased when your betrothed informed him of the good news—that you were to be wed this very night, because you had graciously accepted his proposal.

He could’ve nearly cried from the relief of it all.

His good friend settled—he could tell the young lord was desolate; raising his son all alone with no one of his own to love—and his sister, his twin, to be married to a strong and warm and honorable man.

He could not have imagined a better match.

He is only beyond grateful that a far worse one will now never come about.

So, Cregan had asked your brother to deliver you back to your chambers while he procured for you a gown.

And when he delivered it unto you, it took your breath away.

“It was my mother’s,” he’d stated, settling it into your arms.

Your eyes met his then, filling yet again with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

He had ran his fingers gently along your cheek. “She would have adored you just as I do. I think she would be…quite proud for you to be wearing her dress.”

You’d looked behind you, to your room, then back to him. “I truly hope it will fit.”

He'd nodded. “If it doesn’t, it is still yours to keep.”

Your smile had wobbled as you swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

As Alia readied you for the ceremony, Cregan readied his household. He had promised you that tonight, things would be quiet and intimate. No grand gathering. That, if you wished for one, it would come later.

This evening was about the two of you and no one else.

You had told him vowing to be bound together for life was more than enough for you. Festivities were not necessary.  

The dress is a bit snug, but fits well enough, and it is beautiful. Lace trim, soft gossamer and silk, a long, flowing skirt, with a bodice in the shape of a heart, and the sleeves shimmer against firelight.

You’re grateful to Cregan for allowing you to not only wear, but have this dress. You suppose, in a way, it makes you feel closer to her: his mother. She must have been a lovely woman to raise such a man.

Your hair is long and flowing, with a crown of small white roses adorning your brow, pearls scattered throughout your curls. And you wear the necklace he gifted you of a small silver snowflake.

The final touch is a soft brown fur wrap—made of rabbit—which Alia lays over your shoulders before nodding her head. “I think that should do it, Princess. You look perfect.”

You take her hands in yours. “Y/N, please. This…this is going to be my home now. I would like…I’d very much like for us to be friends. Would you?”

She nods, smiling. “I would.”

Jace’s breath is taken away by your beauty. How you look every inch a northerner. How quickly you were able to transform into one… He wonders, now, if this place has not been awaiting your arrival all this time. Or, you it.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it, nodding. “Don’t let me fall.”

He presses a kiss to your hair, careful not to mess so much as a strand. “Never.”

“Father, Mother, Maiden, Smith, Warrior, Crone, Stranger. I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

The Septon speaks, finalizing the ceremony. “Let all bear witness to the union of Lord Cregan of House Stark, and Princess Y/N of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, being now bound together as one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be they who should seek to tear them asunder.”

A solitary tear slips down your cheek, and over your lips, which mingles between yours and Cregan’s as he takes your face between his hands, and kisses you long and deep. And passionately.

All cheer and laugh and smile, including Jace and Alia—your brother standing as Cregan’s best man, and Alia as your maid-of-honor.

And you know then, it was always meant to be him.

From the beginning, the Godswood in the Red Keep had been the place you went to for refuge and peace. Northern tales had always been your favorite as a child. And snowfall was something you’d desired to one day see—feel upon your skin—for as long as you could recall.

Even just a few days past, Cregan had wrapped you in his cloak before this very same tree. The Gods had known, even if the two of you hadn’t.

They always had.

Dinner is celebratory, but not exactly a grand affair. There is music and drink and hearty foods to be had, while a fire roars in the great hearth.

As the servants had been given short notice, in place of a cake, biscuits with jam and honey are served, which you and your new Lord Husband serve to one another, kissing each other’s face’s clean with many laughs and smiles.

A few journey into Winter Town to visit late-open shops and return with small wedding gifts: fine materials for you and colorful threads, books, and collections of decorative candles. You take all graciously and with a great many thanks, promising they will all be put to use. You even place a few of the candles atop the hearth’s mantle, their wicks flickering as people dance and converse.

For Cregan, he is gifted a couple small ornate daggers, and a pelt, along with a new whetstone. His insistence that he wants for nothing is ignored.

Once things begin to wind down, he turns to you, his hand sliding along your back, to then grip your hip and pull you close as he whispers into your ear “it is time for us to retire, my love”.

You merely lick your lips and nod.

You’ve never been in Cregan’s chambers before tonight. You suppose now they are also yours.

Your chambers.

And the first thing you notice is just how very organized he is. Unusual for a man, you deem. Unless, of course, that is in thanks to the servants having readied the room while the two of you were celebrating.

The door stands behind you and to your right is a large desk, with stacks of parchment, a collection of quills and an inkpot that you’re sure must be the size of your palm.

To the left is a row of hooks mounted to the stone wall, which holds cloaks and furs.

The mantle above the hearth has a long row of well-loved books placed atop it, with worn metal bookends in the shape of howling direwolves.

The same as your room, there is a large settee before the hearth, with brown and dark blue blankets lain across the back.

To the right of it, in the corner, is a wardrobe.

The opposite wall has a set of double-doors, the top portion of which are stained-glass windows that are the sigil of his house, painted in white and black and light blue, small, sheer curtains hanging over them. Beside those doors, a small square table for eating, with stuffed chairs on either side.

And finally, there is a large, four-post bed, turned down, with plenty of blankets and pillows and yes, more furs. On either side are wooden end-tables, and at the foot of the bed, a chest with cushions atop it.

You step over to the hearth and look at the large sword which is mounted on brass hooks atop it.

“Ice,” Cregan states, coming to stand behind you. “The ancestral sword of our house.”

Our house. It warms you to hear him say it.

You lean back against him, smiling softly as his arms wrap around you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this…content before,” you remark.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, before gently turning you around in his arms to face him.

He removes the flower crown from your brow, tossing it back onto the settee—perhaps you will press it into a book tomorrow for safe-keeping—before brushing a kiss over your lips. “I’ve not for a very long time now.”

He cups the back of your head, bringing his lips down to your own, his mouth moving slowly against yours, tongue tasting you as his fingers move to the back of your dress, unlacing it.

He kisses down your cheek and your jaw, coming back up to your ear. “Let us bind ourselves as one in this final way, my love.”

A pulse forms between your legs and you nod, your eyes fluttering closed as you push his cloak from his shoulders and it falls to the floor with a soft thud.

He brings his lips back to your own as he tugs your gown down, down, down, until it, too, has pooled at your feet.

You pull away for only a moment, gently folding it before placing it delicately upon the lounge.

He slips his fingers beneath the straps of your shift, and he grips either side in his hands and pulls it down your body.

He dips his head, kissing the tops of each of your breasts and your fingers tangle in his hair, a sigh escaping your lips.

His hands then slide lower, slipping your smallclothes from your waist, and once you have toed off your shoes, all that is left are your thigh-high stockings.

You reach down, gripping the tops of them, until you feel his finger under your chin.

“Leave them.”

With that, he cradles your body in his arms, carrying you over to the bed and he lies you back on fresh sheets as he stands at the foot of it.

You feel as if every nerve ending is exposed as you lie back on your forearms, your legs spread as you watch him undress himself.

He removes his jerkin, then reaches behind him, gripping his shirt back and tugging it over his head, his eyes returning to yours, watching how you lick your lips as he begins to unlace his breeches.

He had, admittedly, once wondered what the hair covering that most delicate part of you would be like in color. He is pleased to find it matches perfectly that which is atop your head.

He toes off his boots, then shoves down his trousers, along with his socks, leaving himself naked before you.

Your eyes widen as he takes his long, thick member in-hand and begins to stroke it.

Your eyes flit back to his, heat pooling between your thighs. Gods, you want him to touch you again.

Yours. All yours.

He takes a step forward, his thighs hitting the edge of the bed. “I don’t want for you to be afraid. I promise you that I’ll be as gentle as I can be.”

You shake your head.

“I’m not,” you reply breathlessly.

He nods, then climbs atop you, pressing his lips to yours and kisses you so achingly slow, removing his hand from himself and instead trailing it down your sensitive skin, your body jerking at the touch, a sigh escaping your lips as he moves to your neck, his fingers coming to explore your hot, wet core.

You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the ends of his hair tickling your breasts as he moves his mouth lower, taking a peaked nipple inside of it, rolling it gently between his teeth.

Your back arches, his other hand slipping beneath it, holding you closely as his dextrous fingers spread your labia, gently massaging.

Your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh, Gods,” you whisper.

You’ve touched yourself before. Many a time. But for another to do it—for him? You fear you may be reluctant to ever leave this bed—at the very least this room—after tonight.

He presses a hot, wet kiss between your breasts, then your stomach, his hands gripping your hips before he playfully peppers kisses on your cheeks and chin and nose, earning him a bubbly giggle from your lips.

He is glad to hear it. He doesn’t want you tensed up and anxious this night. He wants you to enjoy yourself. To experience just how pleasurable and intimate lovemaking can be.

His eyes gaze into your own, warm and full of love. “Are you ready, my darling?”

You nod, lifting your hips to meet his. “Yes.”

He presses his lips to yours, begins to rub the tip of himself against your dripping entrance—pleased to find you so ready for him—and he eases inside, breaking through your maidenhead.

You gasp against his lips, tears stinging your eyes.

He presses his forehead to your own. “Breathe, my love. Lift your hips for me again, darling.”

You do, and he sinks deeper, the pain quickly turning into something wholly different as he fills you.

“Gods,” he whispers in your ear as you clench around him for the first time.

He moves one hand into your curls, the other sliding down your thigh, lifting your leg onto his back as he begins to rock his hips against yours, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat at the feel of you.

You coat the length of him, the sound of your arousal meeting his ears as he eases out and then back in so, so slowly.

You lie your head back against the mountain of pillows behind you, soft furs lie beneath your sensitive, naked skin, the fire warming every inch of you.

You feel…somehow euphoric. The two of you joined together as one—literally—causes a small sob to escape your lips.

His head jerks up and he stares down at your tear-streaked cheeks. “Are you in pain? Should I stop—”

You shake your head vigorously. “I’m happy.”

He smiles before pressing his lips back to your own, easing back inside of you.

He then begins to lean up, gripping your waist and settling you into his lap, your bodies chest-to-chest as his hands tug against your hips, encouraging you to find your own pace.

You begin to undulate beneath his instructive hands, your body quivering as his callused palms rub against your back. He lies his head against your breasts and you run your fingers through the tangled strands of his hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of his head.

“I love you,” you whisper, your heart filled to the brim.

His lips come to hover over your own. “And I you.”

“I regret making arrangements for us three to travel to the Wall tomorrow with our retinue,” Cregan states, his fingertips ghosting across the soft skin of your back.

You lift your head, removing your hand from his chest and instead cupping his cheek.

He continues as he turns more toward you. “For I do not wish to allow you out of this bed for at least a sennight.”

He presses yet another kiss to your already swollen lips with a cheeky grin.

You smile, feeling a pleasant soreness between your legs where he has already spilled his seed thrice—once with your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounded away relentlessly inside of you. That position… You’d been able to form naught more than garbled words and cries of pleasure during.

“Nor do I.”

You slide a leg between both of his. “Mayhaps we could reschedule our visit?”

“Wish that we could, but I already sent a raven, which may have already reached them. At the very least, will be shortly.”

He cups your cheek. “You should know that is why I wished to wait to propose to you. This morn, I had intended to send a request to your mother for your hand. And then I heard that you…intended to take another to husband. I merely wished to do things the right way. Not just because it is—right—but because I know how much your family means to you.”

You flush. “About that…”

He leans over you with furrowed brows, and you cup his cheek with a nervous smile. “I hope you do not find it presumptuous, but just before Jace and I took to flight atop Vermax, my mother told me that…due to your young age, and knowing that you are a widower…”

Your eyes flit from his chest, then back to his own. “She told me if love were to grow—if you asked for my hand and I felt it right; I desired it, then I was to give you both our blessing. So you already had it.”

His lip twitches. “All that upset due to naught more than misunderstandings on both sides.”

He takes your hand in his, brushing a kiss over your fingers. “I will forever regret that for even a moment you doubted the love which I now hold for you.”

You shake your head, curling your fingers against his stubbled cheek. “When did you know?”

“When I saw you with Rickon. That morn, I had gone to the Godswood to pray, asking for the Gods to give me a sign—any—if it was meant to be. For I wished for you—to have you. To claim you as mine own. Desperately. The conversation we had in Winter Town made me doubtful, if for a moment. It is…why I changed tactics,” he states with a raised brow.

“I wanted you assured that I was a man who chased after that which he desires most—that I do not relent easily—and that was you. But it was also a matter of whether you wished to be chased. Seeing you with my son, I knew that was at an end, and commitment was to be what remained. That we belonged together. As one.”

He presses a kiss to your warm forehead. “And when I heard you telling Jace…heard you ready to resign yourself to such a horrifying future, I knew the time I thought I had, had then run out.”

He brushes his lips over yours. “It shattered my heart to see you so…heartbroken tonight. You could not even stand my touch. To think I nearly lost you—”

You crush your lips to his. “I am yours.”

You climb into his lap, straddling him, easing him back inside of you.

He grips your hips firmly. “You are mine.”

[juiles]

Hiding it

Requested: yes

Summary: you’ve had adhd your whole life and have managed to keep it from your team and 2 year long girlfriends. They start to get snippy with you and when you get an injury and they find out, you snap a little.

Type: angst and fluff

Pairing: Wandanat x reader

Warnings: swearing, anger, blood, gunshot wound, fighting, yelling, argument

Important questions!!!!

Masterlist here!

Request here!

A/N: so this idea was given to me by a very lovely reader and honestly i fell in love with the idea! I have ADHD and honestly it just gave me some outlet which i needed tbh.

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Part 2

It had taken you 18 years to officially get diagnosed with ADHD. Your parents couldn’t have cared less about your well being which is why it took so long. You had been so shamed for the way you were that when you started with the Avengers, you just decided not to tell them. You had your coping skills and your medication. You didn’t need them to think anything less about you. The only person who knew was Cho and that was because she did your prescriptions for you.

You weren’t great at making sure they were refilled and that meant you messed up. Small things that wouldn’t normally set people off however, they were so consistent that people started to notice.

You had been dating Natasha and Wanda for a few years now and had managed to avoid them finding out so far. Perhaps that’s what had gotten you into this predicament. If you had just been honest with them, they wouldn’t have been so mean to you.

——————————————————

“Really y/n?! Again?!” You flinched, hearing Natasha’s voice rise slightly as you two sat in the quinjet while Tony flew you three home. “Why can’t you just pay attention?! God damn it. You could have gotten someone killed!”

You felt like sinking into the seat and disappearing from her line of sight and not saying anything, however that made her more mad. “Really?! You’re going to ignore me?!” She stood up, her hands flying up into the air as she stomped her way into the cockpit leaving you alone to overthink what had just happened.

You had lost track of the snipper that stood on the roof of the building across from you after Tony had mentioned a helicopter near by that you ALSO needed to keep an eye on. You couldn’t keep an eye on both but felt bad so instead of mentioning it to them, you tried to do both and in the attempt, last track of both of them. Luckily, Natasha had gotten the intel quick enough that the three of you were able to get out unscathed. Now it was just having to listen to them both bitch about your mistake.

Once the quinjet landed, you slowly grabbed your things and trudged outside, hoping to have Wanda comfort you but much to your dismay, Natasha had gotten to her first and as soon as the brunette landed her eyes in you, she instantly started berating you for being so careless and “how dare you be so risqué about Nattys life!”. This wasn’t the first time they had yelled at you. Last week, after a mission, the two of them ignored you for 3 days because of an accident you had. This time, instead of taking it, you trudged your way inside and instead of turning left and entering the bedroom the three of you shared, you went up 3 more doors and opened the door on the right to reveal your bedroom.

A room you hadn’t stayed in, in years due to moving into the shared room. You closed the door and threw your duffel on your bed and with a groan, you hauled ass to the bathroom to strip out of your suit and get in the shower. The warm water felt nice against your dirty skin and you relished in it however, the feeling only lasted a moment before you heard a door open and Natasha and Wanda were barging into your room causing you to get out of the shower and change into some spare clothes.

“Seriously y/l/n. That was a really reckless mistake that could have caused a life!” Wanda ranted storming into the room as you opened the bathroom door. “What if Natasha had gotten shot?! Huh?!” The guilt that already gnawed slightly at your stomach intensified as you ducked your head squeezing your eyes shut. “I would have NEVER forgiven you if something had happened to her! Do you understand me?!” You nodded softly before Natasha grabbed the witch’s hand.

“Come on love. Let’s go have a shower hmm?” She said, loud enough for the words to sting you. “I don’t want to see her face right now.” With that the two left, slamming your bedroom door shut, causing you to jump. You stayed in your room for 2 days after that. No one except Pepper cared enough to come and check on you. The woman had been bringing you food, which you barely touched and reminded you to sleep.

On the third day, Fury came knocking and told you that you had a mission and to be in the jet in 15 minutes. You stuffed your duffel bag, threw on your suit and slipped your way to the jet, managing to avoid your angry girlfriends.

The mission, which was supposed to be an easy single person intel recon, turned into a 3 day stakeout where you ended up getting shot in the shoulder at the end right before escaping. Upon your return, you were whisked away to the medbay where Cho, Natasha and Wanda were waiting. The latter two, with angry looking faces. “Come on Y/l/n. Let’s get that stitched up hmm?” Cho said guiding you to sit down as you actively avoided the assassin and the witch standing beside you.

“Where the hell were you?! You didn’t tell anyone you were gone y/n/n! What if you died?!” Wanda said, fear and anger etched into her features.

“It was stupidly reckless y/n.” Natasha said, her face her normal calm facade.

Cho sent the two looks to shut up as she finished stitching you up. “I’m assuming since you were gone for three days that you didn’t take your meds so when you take them tomorrow, remember you’re going to have side effects okay? Also, you need to come and get a refill soon.” Cho said softly to you as she finished up the bandage.

Your eyes widened and your head whipped up to look at her before quickly stealing a glance at the two avengers frozen beside you. “M-medications?! Side effects?!” Natasha stuttered out. “What is she talking about detka?”

Chos eyes widened commically as she looked at you. “I thought they knew! I’m so sorry y/n/n!!” the doctor rushed out. You simply shook your head and muttered an assurance that it was okay before she skittered out the door. You slowly stood with a grunt and brushed past your two girlfriends with the intent to head back to your room to clean up. They followed behind you, scrambling with their words before you quickly stopped and turned on your heel with an angry look on your face.

“Shut up!” You seethed at the two who froze and stared at you wide eyed. “God for once just stop. Not that it’s any of your business but i have ADHD. A pretty severe case and Cho does my meds for me. All those “stupid little reckless mistakes” were caused by something i have NO control over. You two couldn’t have given two shits about me for the past 5 days so why the fuck would you care now?!” You felt all the anger in your body start to boil up. “FUCK!” In a state of anger, you turned around and punched a hole in the wall beside you which caused your knuckles to start bleeding however, it seemed as if you didn’t even notice as you continued to punch the wall with no thought to your safety at all.

The girls were in a state of shock for a moment before Natasha grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you away from the wall, Wanda using her powers to hold your hands still. “Baby stop! Stop! You’re hurting yourself!” Wanda said walking towards your angry looking figure, your eyes narrowed on her as she reached her hand up and cupped your cheek which seemed to snap you back to reality. “Take a deep breath my love. Just take a moment okay?”

Your eyes filled with tears as you stared into her blue eyes then turned to face Natasha’s green ones. “I-I’m sorry… i’m sorry i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so angry. I c-can’t always stop it.” You muttered pulling your hands to your chest. “Without t-the meds I-I don’t have good control of my emotions… they-they feel like they’re trying to rip through my body…” Wanda merely hushed you as Natasha pulled your shaking form into her body, being extra cautious of the now open and bleeding wound on your shoulder.

“No detka. We’re sorry. Were sorry we couldn’t help you and instead just got angry with you…” Natasha murmured into your hair. “Why didn’t you say anything…?”

You merely shook your head and clutched to her shirt with your bleeding hands as your body began to rack with sobs. “Shhhh… you’re okay malyshka. Let’s go to our room hmm?” You nodded softly as the two lead you into your shared bed and settled down, with you curled up between them. You sat and cried for a while before the sobs turned u to sniffles and Wanda pulled away causing you to whimper.

“I’m just getting the first aid kit my love. We need to restitch your shoulder and bandage your hands okay? I’ll be 2 minutes.” With a kiss pressed to your forehead, the witch shot off and was back in less than a minute with a full first aid kit in hand. You were shifted to be leaning into her warm body as Natasha started cleaning you up. The three of you sat in silence as this happened until you were all bandaged up and securely back in their arms.

“I’m a burden…” You whispered softly. Wanda went to say something but got stopped by a look from Natasha. They knew you needed to get it out. “I’m a burden and weak and stupid. That’s what they called me…”

“Who detka…?”

“My parents… kids at school… teachers…. I was never good enough and when i turned 18 and finally got diagnosed with ADHD it made sense to me but i feel this gnawing shame in my stomach. A shame that was shoved in me from birth. That who I am is nothing more than a burden and no one should have to deal with me. The meds help a lot… i appear almost normal. Those times the boys have jokingly told me I’m annoying and it seems like i have a big reaction to it is because it’s my biggest fear. That my family will leave me again, that everyone i live will get bored with having to help me with everyday tasks and leave me alone again… I know i can be a lot sometimes. I know i can be stand off ish. But i’m scared. I can’t handle losing another family…” You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back the tears as you tried to wriggle out of the girls arms before the two pulled you in tighter and squeezed you, the both pressing kisses to your hair and face while whispering assurances to you.

“No baby. You are not a burden. You are not annoying. You are not too much. You are our perfect girl. We are so sorry we messed up but you need to know that you love you with everything in our hearts and we NEVER want you to be alone again or feel like you’re weak because you’re so strong.” You scoffed lightly rolling your eyes at Wanda’s words.

“You are y/n. You are so strong to be holding all of this to yourself and not be able to tell anyone else but never again okay? From now on, Wanda and I will be here for you. To support you and love you and care for you. In the ways people should have when you were little.” Natasha said, with a finality in her tone and a kiss on your head, making you believe she was telling the truth to some extent.

Of course it wasn’t perfect after that but they kept true to their word. Everyday, the would remind you of their love for you in the small things. They would make sure you had taken your pills and eaten more than an energy drink with them. They would leave kisses on your head as you walked past. They set reminders on their phones to remind you that you had a load of laundry in or that you had said you would do the dishes. Small things to remind you that they will fight by your side through it all. While they may have seemed insignificant to the others, you knew how much these small things meant and you cherished them all.

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing

Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1:

Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.

“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”

“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.

“Are you talking about the photo?”

“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”

“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.” 

“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.

“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile. 

Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously. 

“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.

Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.

“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.

You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.

Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile. 

Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”

“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”

“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.

“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”

You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy. 

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“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.

“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.

“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.

“No-”

“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.

Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink. 

“Gross,” Dustin added.

Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.

“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change. 

Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.

The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you. 

That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.

He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.

Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there. 

With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”

“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”

“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”

“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense. 

The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.

"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried." 

It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile. 

“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.

“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.

“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”

You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.

The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.

His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.

“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile. 

This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.

You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.

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

Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.

You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”

Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct. 

“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.

You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.

“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

Part 2

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Springtime Caresses

IV. Dadstarion, but he's only just figuring that one out.

Good things were happening to Astarion, at least on occasion. It had taken him years to accept that, to trust that his luck wasn’t about to run out at any given moment; to believe that he was worthy of whatever goodness came his way. And things were good, so very good—the Elven woman trancing in his arms was all the proof he needed, was she not? It was thanks to her magic woven into the protective canvas of their tent that he could feel the late morning sun warm his skin. It was her graceful body entangled with his that anchored him to a present worth living, having him excited for the future. It was her heartbeat echoing through his hollow bones that called him back from unwanted dreams, filling the refuge that was their worn tent with the only sound of life that truly mattered to him. It was his favourite melody in all the realms, one he could pick out in the densest of crowds; a tune he knew by his undead heart. And that was why he was still lying awake long past dawn today, holding his breath, listening. Wondering.

What was this faint, fluttering sound rippling through him where Tav’s bare chest pressed against his own?

For nearly half a century Tav’s heart had been singing for Astarion by now, and he took great pride and care in memorising each of her songs. Every piece in his collection was a personal favourite: the steady hum accompanying peaceful nights spent in each other's arms. The giddy pulsing of excitement whenever they were run out of town for a misdeed they might or might not have committed. The urgent pounding of her heart racing him through the throes of passion…But this strange off-tune beat disturbing his rest now, that one was odd—that one was new.

Astarion couldn’t say when he’d first noticed the unfamiliar sound. It might have been there all night, perhaps even longer; it mingled so subtly with his beloved’s heartbeat that it was easy enough to miss—especially when he’d been distracted by all those divine seductions Tav’s body offered him well into the early morning hours. She had tasted so intoxicatingly sweet with his fangs and cock buried deep inside her; the heels of her feet digging into the small of his back, greedily drawing him closer—deeper—as her blood rushed through him, and her legs and cunt had made the framework that was his entire world. It was ridiculously easy for him to lose himself in Tav. She was the one constant in his existence, the dance to which he could anticipate every next move. But now that his hunger for her was sated for the night, and Tav’s heartbeat had calmed into the gentle whisper of slumber, this novel symphony was deafening in Astarion’s sensitive ears. He wet his lips that still tasted of sweet, darling Tav.

Once, Astarion had been very good at ignoring things. It had been a skill long honed, perfected over centuries—how easily had he been able to just close his eyes, turn his back on the ignorant fools sleeping next to him? It had been such a well-rehearsed dance; him knowing what horrors were about to unfold, how irrevocably a life would change. But, night after night, it hadn’t been his life-changing, and so it had been of no consequence to him. Now, though, it was Tav he watched over as she tranced; whom he’d embraced for so many nights and yet not nearly enough. It was her soft, warm breath caressing his skin, making it impossible for him to unhear, let alone ignore, that ominous sound entrancing him. The moment Astarion had acknowledged the lingering change, it had settled in the thus far unoccupied space between him and his beloved. Already, Astarion could feel it deep in his bones—a shift in his world—and for the first time in many many years, he did not quite know what beat he was to dance to. And so the vampire spawn did what he was wont to do: He watched the even rise and fall of Tav’s bosom, filling his empty lungs with air. Slowly, he breathed in and out, tried and failed imitating that melody that was undeniably Tav and yet, somehow, more.

Very slowly it dawned on Astarion, then. How hadn’t it occurred to him before? It would be impossible for him to fall into that familiar, steady rhythm of Tav’s heartbeat this morning because where there had been one heart beating against his chest for all these years, there were now undeniably two.

Astarion’s useless breath caught in his throat. They’d known it was possible; it had been the probability of it all they’d doubted. And yet, here they were. The vampire spawn stared at the elf in his arms. There had been signs, Astarion realised as he reached for the small hand resting on his ribcage, grounding himself. Now that his world was shaking, he could see all the pieces fall into place. Didn’t Tav tire untypically fast lately, while her trances kept her from him well into the evening hours? And didn’t she smell different, too; taste even sweeter? She’d been changing right under his nose, had she not? He couldn’t even recall when he’d last indulged in her moonblood as he watched a well of memories flutter behind Tav’s eyelids. Her pink lips were slightly parted, brushing the gentlest of kisses against his skin as loose strands of her lustrous hair tickled his chin. She was glowing with life, and Astarion couldn’t help but wonder: did she know? Because, to him, it was suddenly clear as day that something had come alive between them—or rather half-alive, Astarion supposed.

Or half-dead, a mean little voice countered inside his head. 

Careful not to rouse his beloved from her trance, Astarion slowly untangled himself from Tav’s embrace, feeling at once cold at the absence of her touch. Kneeling next to her, Astarion gently placed Tav’s head on the pillow, brushed a stray lock from the face he could recognise blind. Crimson eyes wandered over Tav’s slight form—lean limbs and restless hands; a traveller’s body that rarely saw the sun. A body that could be better fed and more well rested. A body that could be stronger—a vessel that needed to be stronger for the unnatural presence it held. Deep within him, in a place that had lain dormant for many blissful years, Astarion could feel fear and shame settle. Nothing good tended to come of a union made flesh between mortals and monsters. There was a reason dhampirs were this rare; there was a reason mothers to dhampir children were even rarer. The strain of bearing life from death was too great—and it was entirely Astarion’s fault. But what was he to do? Could anything be done about this…predicament, now? All Astarion knew was that he couldn’t bear seeing Tav suffer; wasn’t she paying such a high price for his affliction already?

But Tav didn’t look like she was suffering, not now and not ever. Astarion scoffed at the discontented frown carved between her eyebrows as her hand searched blindly for his, only relaxing when he laced his cold fingers with hers. It was true, Tav was a little pale and her body bore all the signs of a future that had thus far been unwritten. And yet, now that Astarion bent over her, he could see the slight swell of her belly, the firmness of her breasts and recognise them for what they were. Tav was nothing if not resilient, always believing—knowing—that good things came their way. Had she ever given him reason to doubt her?

Carefully, Astarion rested his cheek below Tav’s navel, and there it was—the epicentre of their future, fluttering against his ear as if Tav had swallowed a little bird. He listened closely to the two heartbeats and tried to learn the intricacies of this new song. The sharp ends of Astarion’s fangs pierced his lower lip as he smiled widely against Tav’s belly. For nearly fifty years he and Tav had made love, and now love had eventually made something in return. But it had only just begun, hadn’t it? There was much to consider. They would have to settle down somewhere; being out in the wilderness, going town to town—it wouldn’t do any longer. They needed a safe place where Tav could gather as much strength as possible, a place where their child could thrive. They needed a home. Everything else would fall into place, surely…

There was another change in Tav’s heartbeat, signalling that she’d woken. It only took a second for her free hand to ghost over Astarion’s arm, his shoulders and the nape of his neck before it found its way into his dishevelled curls.

“What are you smiling about?” Tav asked, a sleepy curiosity laced in her voice that made Astarion look up at her face. He wondered again whether she knew of that second heart beating inside her or not, but Tav was a shit liar, and worse at keeping secrets—unlike Astarion.

He considered her a moment longer before he lifted his head off her middle and laid back beside her. Tav hummed contently as he pulled her against him, resuming their earlier position as if nothing had changed. “Just about how pathetically in love I am with you, and how my love for you only grows each day.” 

“Oh, just the usual then,” Tav yawned against his chest, mirroring his smile. “Nothing grand.”

She didn’t know, Astarion was sure of it. And he wouldn’t say anything, not at all. Tav would notice the change in herself soon enough, but for now, it was their secret—Astarion and the little life’s he’d discovered within her. “Nothing grand at all, my dear. Nothing grand at all.”

A good thing was happening to him; he could hear and taste it, feel it grow right there where Tav’s bare chest pressed against his—but who was he to keep that to himself?

“Darling,” Astarion blurted out. “How do you like Baldur’s Gate around…let’s say early Spring, I suppose?”

more Dadstarion content

tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @bardic-inspo @kawaiiusagichansan @darlingxdragon @herautumnmorningelegance  

@ayselluna @chonkercatto  @anukulee  @roguishcat @littlejuicebox

[genericpuff]

Hey Puff,

I'm someone who has always struggled with how to do research "correctly," but have lurked around the community enough to know RS had a real tendency for… not doing enough. Do you have any recommendations, not necessarily specific to Greek mythos, on how to just do research? Is Wikipedia even a good jumping off point?

Thanks!

Biggest thing, at least for me, is being thorough! The reason a lot of folks tend to side-eye Wikipedia as a "source" isn't just because it's relatively easy for anyone to edit, but also because Wikipedia itself is a library of sources and not the source itself.

Wikipedia can be a perfectly acceptable jump off point, as long as you're actually jumping to the places it can lead to - and you can do that through References.

Let's use the Wikipedia entry for Persephone as an example.

Sourcing "improperly" through Wikipedia would be to simply source directly from one of the sentences listed here and calling it a day. No further digging on where the excerpt comes from, no cross-referencing with other material, just reading the part on Wikipedia that says she was a vegetation goddess, slapping it into an essay or adaption or whatever, and then not confirming it further or picking apart the why of her status as a vegetation goddess through extended research.

Sooo what do we do to find that info? Let's search the word 'vegetation' and see if anything else comes up.

There we go, that has a bit more detail. And from here, we can click the little '19' at the end of the paragraph, which will take us to the References section at the bottom of the page.

Aaaand boom! Now you've got an actual source that you can dig into further, if you so choose. There isn't a whole lot that I can access of this sourced book online, but I was able to find an excerpt where the author sourced Cicero, a Roman poet and philosopher (among other things) who lived during the rise of the Roman empire:

That said, sometimes these sources aren't quite so easy to track down. That's where cross-referencing can help - but that means leaving Wikipedia!

Where this concerns a Greek goddess, let's see what we can find on Theoi, another great resource specifically pertaining to Greek / Roman / etc. deities, stories, and customs.

Though it's not quite as clickable as Wikipedia, Theoi also does a good job at outlining sources in their descriptions. Though Bennett isn't mentioned here, Hesiod and Cicero are, and wouldn't you know it, they're sourced on Theoi as well.

So there you have it! Even though Bennett is from the early 2000's, he did his own work to outline and source poets and academics whose work he was now documenting himself. This means the odds of Bennett simply making shit up are low because he sourced from the preserved works of the era he's speaking on and those works are referenced again through other resource libraries such as Theoi.

What ALL that helps with at the very least - aside from the opinions one could have about the sources themselves (Ovid 😒) - is to legitimize the research. We know without a shadow of a doubt that Persephone was attributed to vegetation and the harvest because there are so many sources across different cultures and backgrounds and generations stating it as such. It thus makes the conclusions a lot more credible, even when they're coming from a more modern source, because that source was built on their own research and sources from the Greek/Roman/etc. documents that have been preserved (and there's still new stuff being found!!!)

Obviously there are always arguments to be made about the material itself, especially when it comes to the debates over translations and cultural contexts, but actually following up on initial searches with referencing and cross-referencing is a lot more reliable and credible than simply taking something from Wikipedia and saying "I read it on the Internet."

As much as the effectiveness of Google and Wikipedia as legitimate research sources is frowned upon, they are incredibly effective, you just need to know where to look and how to find it, and most importantly - how to verify it.

And that's just the online stuff! Libraries are still alive and well! Many universities contribute to search engines like WorldCat which are designed specifically for research papers, published articles, and textbooks! Point is, the world around us is full of knowledge and resources, so the key is to learn how to navigate it so you can get the most out of it!

This is ultimately why it's so important to not restrict yourself to the first Google result - I know it's "easier" due to the convenience of it all, but you're also robbing yourself of the opportunity to really expand your knowledge beyond the summary of a targeted first result, and it runs the risk of sourcing from illegitimate sources or sources that are controlled by Google's own self-interests (protip: have a very specific problem but Googling it just gets you a bunch of automated sponsor posts and completely useless results? add 'reddit' to the end of your search, you'll get human answers from real human beings and there's always at least ONE other person who's had the same problem and posted about it to reddit LMAO seriously this one's saved my skin so many times)

And when you learn to do research the way that works for your brain? It's really, really fun. A lot more fun than public school led many of us to believe. If you learn best from talking and engaging with people, then go talk to people! Participate in groups and forums that are dedicated to the topic you're researching! If you learn best from listening to audio material, then try out audiobooks, they can often be found online through various means (🏴‍☠️) BUT ebooks and audiobooks are stocked at libraries too!

But of course, that leads us to what makes for bad research, and I obviously can't use any other example in this context than Rachel herself, whose "research" is evidently often the first recommended result that pops up on Google. And yes, I can say evidently because we've proven this when she tried to source the term 'xenia' into LO as a definition. Not only was it copy pasted to the point of still containing typos, but it was sourced plainly from a Princeton study guide that is now severely outdated - not the work that that study guide was sourcing from in and of itself.

(notice how she just sourced it as "princeton.edu" and not the specific URL that it came from)

If she really wanted to sound well-researched with the cheeky insert of the definition of xenia linking to a smart-sounding location (we're gonna ignore that it ruins the flow of the comic) then she could have sourced it from literally any of these:

But instead she did the equivalent of an 8th grader copy pasting a sentence from Wikipedia and calling it "research". It's not research. It's a lazy shortcut and it doesn't facilitate any real learning.

This can be seen in other instances as well, such as Metis' design:

As well as Leto, who I kinda think Rachel mixed up with the Full Metal Alchemist character of the same name when googling her because I can think of no other explanation as to why she's a sun goddess in LO when she has zero affiliation with the sun in the myths aside from being Apollo's mother-

(I can't prove that this is what happened but it's hilarious to think about; I'm also low key suspicious that Rachel accidentally mixed in some sources of the Métis people because Metis' design is very... Indigenous-coded 🤨)

^^^ This. This is all bad research. It's not a bad thing if Rachel's interest in Greek myth started through works like Hercules or other creative adaptions, that's actually how it starts for many of us. Where she failed was by trying to sell herself as a "folklorist" and her work as a "retelling", without actually following through in her research. She would often only do just enough to make herself seem well educated on the subject to anyone whose knowledge was as basic - or less - than hers, but not enough that it could actually hold up in a real discussion about Greek myth with other people who are more read up on it than her. Rachel's self-proclaimed "folklorist" title is only validated by the lowest common denominator of readers, who 99% of Lore Olympus ended up being made for in the end, while those who actually understood the myths deeper than their Wikipedia summaries pulled their hair out in frustration every time Rachel tried to make some sly reference to a myth or attempted to speak about it in interviews.

Comparisons aside, the best part is that this research process doesn't have to be exclusive to studying historical stuff! Writing a story that features a disabled character, but you yourself are not disabled and are worried you're going to misrepresent? Search up articles and posts that pertain to the specific disability you're trying to write; I guarantee you that there are people living with that disability offering up that information completely for free because they want to see more representation for themselves in media. Trying to learn how to draw characters of different body types / skin colors / etc. from your own? Seek out the works and advice of those who do have those physical differences and learn from them.

It's about being thorough. It's about opening yourself up to things you may have been blind to before. It's about embracing the learning experience as a positive sign of growth, not a negative sign of failure. It's about taking the opportunity to learn every time it presents itself, even if those opportunities are small and passive. A person who doesn't know is just a person who hasn't learned yet (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

[mayaflowerxs]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

Synopsis: San can’t already stand your best friend, especially when all she does is fill your head with negativity about him. But his breaking point may just be when she suggests you to start using a toy over him.

Warning: Smut / Fluff / Slight Angst . Swear word usage, jealousy, Best friend is an instigator, tension and use of sex toys. Sadism, creampie, pregnancy kink, + more.

Pairing: San x fem reader

San is a very caring person. He’s sweet, patient, a literal definition of a sweetheart. An art created by women, but he does have one little tick. And that’s not being able to stand your best friend. In most relationships it’s an either or situation.

Either the boyfriend and partner’s best friend get along great. Siblings from different parents even, jokes are made, slight bickers erupt. But for the most part, their main concern is trying to prove to the other they love their partner/best friend more.

Then there are those who absolutely can’t stand each other. The smiles sucked out of them as soon as one of them enters the room. The scowls and the irritated huffs. The possessiveness and the slight competition to try and prove their care for their partner/best friend. A constant fight to see who gets to one up the other. The literal thought of them sends goosebumps and that’s exactly where San finds himself to be. He tries, really he does. Especially when your pouty face begs him to get along with your best friend. He tries to bury the hatchet but it’s the little remarks, the constant instigating, always pinning him to look bad. “Huh.” She begins as once again she’s crashing into yours and his place. “What?” “I’m just wondering, for your anniversary. Didn’t you buy him a Rolex?” “Yeah? Why was that too much?” San hears your voice lower. The door to your bedroom open and just across from his gaming room. The small insecurity rises in your tone which only has him wanting to get off his chair and defend your present. He loves it, he’s never taken it off and never wasted a second to show it off to his best friends.

“No but I’d expected he at least try to do something as sophisticated as well. I mean what did he do again? Buy you a purse not even half the prize of the Rolex?”

You’ve got to be kidding me. San thinks.

Your friend is a hater. Simple as that, nothing he does is ever good enough for her. Either the jewels on the 5k necklace he bought you are too small. The dinner wasn’t all that, the chores he did aren’t too impressive. He knows he shouldn’t care what she thinks. Overall, it’s not like he’s seeking for her validation. No, he seeks yours which is why she bugs the hell out of him. Never not does she whisper crap into your ears. Plaguing you of the little things San could do better at.

The bubbly smile on his face immediately curls into a scowl the second he walks into your shared suite. Finding her with a glass of wine in hand for the umpteenth time. “Baby! You’re home!” He hears your angelic voice chirp. “About time.” He ignores the murmuring from her. Walking over to you, he glares daggers at your best friend before changing his expression. A soft loving gaze evident on his face the second he meets your. His white sleeves rolled up which made his muscles on his arms more prominent. Resting his hand on the table, a clear view to your best friend of the wedding band that rests on his finger. Using his other hand to curl a finger under your chin and pull you into a deep loving kiss. Suck on that. He feels smug, a slight smirk on his face as he continues to kiss your soft cherry flavored lips. Your giggling is what unfortunately has the two of you separating. A clear distaste on your best friends face but covers it before you notice.

“How was your day my love?” San asks, lifting your hand that bares the bright shiny Diamond ring that symbolizes his love for you. A soft kiss placed on top of it, Making sure the ring falls under the light in the kitchen, the sparkle reflecting itself in the eyes of your friend. Wincing as she has to blink back a clear view. “Great! We were just having a girls chat.” “Again?” Tilting her head, she settles the wine glass down. “Problem Choi?” “I don’t know, just seems you’ve been coming a lot more often than usual. Boyfriend dumped you again?”

“San!” He feels you smack his bicep but he doesn’t break eye contact from her. Biting the inside of her cheek, she scoffs. “Don’t you got an office to lock yourself in to get to?” “Don’t you got a bar to get drunk off your ass to get to?” “Alright enough! Both of you behave. Sannie go shower, the sweat makes you hot but the stink doesn’t. We’re about ready to finish up anyway.” Nodding , he presses a kiss on your forehead before walking off.

“Seriously y/n, I don’t know how you deal with it.” Snorting, you pick up the wine glasses and proceed to set them into the sink. “Him hun, not it.” “Yeah I’m not too sure. I mean he’s so…robotic.” Scrunching your brows you give her a puzzled look as you clean up the table. “Robotic? How so?” “Well I mean San is just always doing the same thing. Like he’s programmed to do and say the exact thing over and over again. Like when was the last time you two went out on a proper adventure together?” “Well he does have a job and I have my internship.” You shrug. “Exactly, what kind of a husband spends most of their time writing their lives off on work and not their social life? You know, marriage, wife, relationship? That is what comes with having said social life?” Shaking your head you chuckle. “He’s doing the best that he can. Just two nights ago he risked being late to a meeting just so he can bring me lunch.”

“All I’m saying is, once he gets into a habit of living the same routine over and over, he may get bored and start feeling rash.” “Rash?” “All men do that, first it’s ‘oh I love you, please marry me, be with me’ then as soon as they begin to feel just a little bit of stress and boredom, boom ten years of a relationship down the drain.” Widening your eyes, you freeze in your spot. “You’re not saying San is cheating?” “Of course not dear, because if he was. I would have killed him by now.” The worry begins to form on your face as she continues to ramble on. “Tell me, when was the last time you two had sex?” Taken aback by the question you feel your cheeks begin to grow hot. “I-uh…um-wow okay, I don’t…I don’t know.” “My point exactly.”

“So what exactly is wrong? Is San getting bored of me? Is he seeing someone? Oh my god, there’s someone else right?!-“ “Shh! Relax, from what I know nothing. All I’m saying is San is getting a bit, blah.” “Blah?” “Yeah, and given he’s not being so caring like a caring husband should be. I think you should start caring for yourself.” “But, I am. I mean I do get manicures when I can and go to a spa every once and a while. I just got a facial just last week-“ Interrupted by her laugh, you watch her stand up and begin to reach for her purse. “Oh my poor y/n, that’s not what I was referring to.” “No?” You raise a brow at her. “If San isn’t doing a fine job satisfying you, then you should be finding yourself a distraction. A toy per say.”

Completely taken by surprise, you don’t get to ask any further questions as she had already made her way out the door. You never expected to have such a conversation, in fact you don’t really understand why you had. San isn’t blah? At least not to you. Yeah it sucks that with his job, you only see him in the mornings briefly as he gets ready, a kiss to your lips as he leaves for work. A text here and there and then by night, he’s home for a shower, a dinner and then bed. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the random late night talks, the 3 am errands to the grocery store and the trips across towns. Even more, the sex. You two haven’t slept with each other in a while and when you did, it was brief and lazy. Both too tired for anything rowdy. “Babe?” You hear San call out for you. “Coming!” Your best friend didn’t know what she was talking about. San isn’t blah, your marriage is perfect and no way do you need a toy to satisfy you.

If San didn’t like your best friend then, now he despises her.

“What the hell is this?” San glares at the device in its package. A smirk on the damn woman’s face as she sits on your couch. A shy smile on your face, cheeks a rosy tint of red as you look at him. “Just thought to change things up?” “What do you mean baby?” Setting his suit case down, he cups your face. He knows you didn’t come up with this idea. No way you woke up one day and decided to buy yourself a dildo on a random Tuesday night. “What did she say now?”He adds a harsh tone to she, not a single glance over to her as he keeps his focus on you. “She did your wife a favor.” She spoke up, standing she walks over and picks up the box. “Made sure she got it extra large, you know just to make sure it’ll do a better job.” Smirking she grabs her jacket and gives you a goodbye hug. “What the hell is that suppose to mean?” His question going unanswered as you begin to walk your friend out.

As soon as the door closed, he’s about ready to bombard you with questions but is stopped when you wrap your arms around him. “I know works been a pain, it’s why I got it. Don’t want to bother you, now I’m situated.” Sending him a smile, you grab the box and head on over to your bedroom. At loss for words, San stands their bewildered. What the hell happened?

“I can’t fucking stand her.” San slams the shot glass on the table. An amused look on Yeosang and Wooyoung as they watch their favorite continuously chug down shot after shot. “San, this woman has been driving you nuts. Why can’t you just tell y/n how much she bothers you.” Wooyoung takes the bottle away from his grip. Shaking his head, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “They’ve been best friends since first grade, I could never tell her how much I despise her. It’ll crush her.” “Well it’s not like you’ve been keeping your hatred for her a secret.” Yeosang shrugs. “And worst of all, she had her buy a sex toy.”

“Sex toy huh? Getting kinky is she?” Wooyoung grins. “She got it so I wouldn’t have to have sex with her.” “What?” “She didn’t want to bother me, so instead of focusing on fucking me, she’ll be using that damn vibrator.” Snorting, Wooyoung can’t help but chuckle. “Never thought to live the day in which Choi San would have to be competing with a vibrator over his wife.” “Shut up Wooyoung.” He rolls his eyes, okay so maybe he’s jealous. Why wouldn’t he be? He misses you, it’s no secret the man craves sex. But he’s been holding back because he thought you weren’t up for it. Your internship has been so demanding of you. Every day he notices your nails getting shorter and shorter by how much you bite them. Legs bouncing much more rapid by how easily the stress builds in you. The eye bags only growing and all he wishes is to draw you a nice bath and fuck the stress out of you.

But he holds back, in case you weren’t up for it. He respects your wishes, and he wouldn’t dare to ever do anything you were uncomfortable with. But ever since the spawn of satan introduced you into the worlds of sex toys it’s like he no longer exists. He’s not one to oppose sex toys if it means he’s getting in on the action but this, no this was a sex repellent on him. Worse when your best friend constantly smirks victoriously at him. “It works wonders.” He hears you say one night over the phone. In the drawer, he opens and sees there it lies. Scoffing, he grabs it and tosses it on the bed. Walking over to where you sat, he picks you up abruptly. “San!” Tossing you on the bed, he rips the phone out of your grasp.

“Hang up or listen, either way I’m about to fuck my wife.” He tells your best friend as he throws the phone on the pillow before pulling your legs closer to him. “Sannie?” Jaw clenched, he rips your pajama shorts off you along with your panties. Spreading your legs as he settles in between them. “Don’t need a fucking dildo to be satisfied.” A gasp rips out of you as he takes a long lick up your cunt. “Can that toy of yours do this to you?” Hands gripping your thighs back as he begins to eat you out. Spitting and licking figure eights on your clit. Bringing two fingers up to your mouth, you oblige and take them into your mouth. He feels rumbling as you moan on his fingers. Soft doe eyes vanished and instead replaced with lust and hunger. San seems almost animalistic as he sucks, your essence only building the longer he eats you. Removing his fingers, he watches as a strip of salive fall out of your mouth. Not wasting a second in shoving them in. “San!” Throwing your head back, forcing yourself to keep wide for him. “That dildo can never be as good as me. Look how caring I am? Always making sure my princess gets nothing but mind blowing orgasms. Can it lick your pretty pussy lips like I do huh? Can it play with your clit until you shake with ecstasy?”

Whining, your hands go down to grip on his hair. A loud slap is heard as he looks at you sternly. “Answer me princess.” “No Sannie! It can’t! Fuck I’m close!” Picking up in speed, he fucks you with his fingers. Loving the view of you squirming, chest rising as your stomach clenched each time his fingers hit a particular spot. Lowering his tongue back on your pussy, as if it was his last meal. He doesn’t stop even after he brought you to a toe curling climax. “Baby!” You try to push his face but you don’t budge. Instead he pins your legs down and continue to suck. Squelching noises are echoed throughout the room along with your moans. Getting louder and louder you’re glad no one else lives on the same floor as you two. The large view of the city shown out of your window. Anyone can see at any second and it only turned you on more. You’d love for someone to see how well your man knows how to pleasure you. To see how lucky you are to have found such a gem. San wasn’t bothered, if anything the only thing bothering him is that damn vibrator. It’s lying there right by you. Almost mocking him given it’s had a few rounds with his wife. So as he detached himself from your cunt, he flips you over.

“Look at it,” Tilting your head to look at the device, he pushes your upper body down on the bed. Face right next to it. “If you think for a fucking second this damn thing can bring you pleasure then you’re fucking wrong. Only I can.” He felt pathetic, just how bothered this object made him feel. But he had to make a statement, he needed for you to know you didn’t need any object to bring your pleasure. You have him, he’s yours to love, to play with, to fuck. He’s your personal fuck toy so why the fuck did you let your stupid fucking friend talk you into buying it? “Fuck!” Your eyes roll back as he shoves his dick inside you. Hands gripping your waist as he begins to plunge into you. The creaking of the bed increases in volume the harder he fucks you on the bed. Not letting you move an inch from him. “So sensitive!” You whine as you grip the sheets.

“Take it, be a good girl and take my cock.” He huffs, strands of hair beginning to fall on his face as he focuses on making you come as many times as possible. Looking down and seeing the connection between you two. How your essence glimmered his cock, it’s own personal lube. Never do you need much preparation, always ready to take him anytime and anywhere. “God I missed this cunt.” He grunts as he thrusts harder into you. “Missed your cock!” You breathe out. Leaning down, he grips your face and smashes his lips on yours. Forcing his tongue in as he keeps thrusting without relenting.

It’s crazy just how much stamina the man had. Maybe it was the lack of sex for the last few weeks. Maybe it’s the hatred for your best friend constantly meddling in your marriage or the jealousy over the toy. Hell, maybe it’s all three. It’s why no matter how much his body begs to release, he refuses and holds it in. Orgasm after orgasm and he still doesn’t detach himself from you. Tears running, hair disheveled, lips bruises and titties covered in hickies, sheets drenched as you lie on the bed pretty and fucked out for him. “Sannie no more!” You hiccup, had just squirted all over him. Pulling away, he turns the both of you around. “One more princess. Don’t you wanna help your husband come? Mhm?” Wiping the tears off your face, you nod and climb on top of him. “Good, now sit.” The both of you moan at the intrusion again. Beginning to feel your head get fuzzy, San holds you up. “Don’t fall asleep baby, so close.”

“Yes Sannie.” Setting a pace before bouncing yourself up and down on him, the claps louder than ever. Swear on both of your foreheads as his biceps flex his muscles the tighter he holds you. Helping you bounce on him, slapping your ass to encourage you to go faster. “Just like that, fuuuck.” Throwing back his head when you begin to squeeze him. Warm walls engulfing all of him, “Shit! Keep doing that and I might fuck a baby in you.” He grunts, noticing your movements suddenly got faster. You squeezed him again as a loud whine came from you. “Oh? I see.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you down to rest on top of his chest. “It’s what you want don’t you?” Stopping momentarily and then a louder moan emits from your mouth when he proceeds to fuck deep and slow in you. “Tell me, want me to get you pregnant huh?”

Mouth wide open but no words come out as the feeling his cock raw and throbbing in you is all your head can process. “Want me to make you a mama? Get your belly all round and big for me yeah?” Nodding vigorously, you cup his face. “Please San! God I want it all!” You plead him. “M’gonna give you all my babies. M’yours y/n, not that fucking device. Need someone to fuck you, come to me. Hell, come to my office and I’ll gladly fuck you stupid right in front of everyone.” Quickening his thrusts, you hold him tightly as you feel yourself begin to shake.

“Fuck I’m coming!” San grunts as he sucks on your neck. Hitting your g spot, the both of you come on the spot. Loud mewls from the both of you, heavy breathing and hearts racing. You were currently fighting to stay awake but San’s warm body made it impossible. Too fucked out to care about anything else. Caressing your hair, he lulls you to sleep. Grabbing your phone and noticing the call hadn’t ended at all and that your very sad pathetic friend had heard it all.

Typical.

“Sorry, y/n will no longer be having depressing wine drinking sessions anymore. She’ll be too busy carrying my children.”

And like that, he hangs up on her.

That’ll teach her to fuck with him.

[carlostck]

SPOILERS! (ninjago dragons rising season 2 part 2)

I'm crying why did she grab him??? And he doesn't even resist

Also, I LOVE how they go about Arin's "betrayal" Arin doesn't like him, he doesn't want to be on his side... He just wants what Ras can give him

Very confused about the "Wu caused the merge" thing because I feel like it's more of caused-it-due-to-not-stopping-it situation rather than directly causing it? Especially because Wu was actively trying to prevent it from happening, as shown on a few occasions

In addition to that, love how Cole is shown in the series so far, just wish we got a little more of him. I know they aren't the main characters anymore but he's the mom friend and they all need more of that lol Geo and him running to the museum together is so cute awgh

Liking how this is going, the Ras situation is curious in that it seems like he was attempting to avenge his people by "controlling" the forbidden five (moreso attempted to)

The only thing I didn't like about season 2 part 2 is how they went about the Jay situation? Something about it felt off or wrong, can't place a finger on it though... I may just be stupid and it may only be me, but felt funny; like it wasn't right??

Now, questions on my mind since this has raised some: If Lloyd hadn't been disqualified for being injured in a fight (lame rule by the way, he seemed fine <3), then would he have won? And if he did, he would have to fight Sora, but I'm more curious about what Nokt would have done about it Why did Lloyd's eyes stay green after losing his power? Is it not completely lost, just limited? 'Cause Cole was still able to control the rocks due to the assistance of the elemental energy in his mother's mech, meaning they still have the connection... Which would make sense, considering all the "got my powers back" instances Oh, also they called his power "life," which I find interesting because one would assume that the Tournament of Sources would have the correct name for his power! Curious what else Lloyd can do, since I don't think he's ever really reached his true potential? (I know people consider him becoming the Golden Spinjiztu master it but that doesn't make much sense to me) When Zeatrix attacked Lloyd with the sword, was that supposed to be her literally cutting through his side? They're legos so it kinda just looked like she whacked him with a long stick, lol

Euggh I cannot wait for more I love Sora and Lloyd's relationship. Also when she said "If he (Arin) even wants to be found" I lost it because I immediately thought of Morro oops Wyldfyre sleeping with Riyu, awjwaah... I was slightly sad when we didn't get much of her and Riyu at the beginning (since the relationship just makes sense), but those little things are great I also love Frak (however you spell it) and I hope he doesn't just disappear after that

Still want to see Lloyd go ape shit please elpase pleasesplease pelasep palesepelase pleaseee

[olderthannetfic]

Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.

It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.

I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.

And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.

If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.

But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.

Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)

A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.

It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.

--

Yuuup.

Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I’ve been thinking about Miriel and her impact on the House of Feanor on the whole, as you do, and I was thinking what if she haunted the narrative even more? I think it’s pretty well established that she was depressed in some shape or form, that there were mental health problems contributing heavily but there were definitely physical aspects as well, ‘But in the bearing of her son Miriel was consumed in spirit and body; and after his birth she yearned for release from the labour of living.’ And I know that Feanor being Feanor was ascribed as a huge cause of this, that he was just so much stronger than the average elf that his birth was particularly taxing but I’m going to go ahead and assume that even if Feanor had been a perfectly normal baby Miriel would have been impacted. It just feels almost like this infant is being blamed for his mother’s death which, while definitely plausible as something that happened in universe, doesn’t really feel fair to him.

I’m theorising Miriel had underlying conditions from long before she became pregnant that made her prone to things like fainting, exhaustion, chronic pain and that in all honesty her having a child was never going to be a good idea. But they wanted a family together and where could be a safer place to raise one? Everything was perfect and safe, why shouldn’t they be able to overcome this little obstacle to doing what everyone else seemed to be doing without issue? Towards the end she was entirely bedridden, not even strong enough to sit at her loom.

Finwë was relieved beyond measure when Feanor seemed to grow almost exceedingly strong and healthy, as if he’d gotten all the strength Miriel had been missing, and he thought that was the matter laid to rest, Feanor was fine and any children of his would be as well. Except they weren’t. Nerdanel’s pregnancies were always a time of great panic, not for her health really because it wasn’t Feanor’s genes they were worried about it was Miriel’s. And Nerdanel was nothing like Miriel but her children…..

Ñolofinwe watches Feanor pacing the palace in a frenzy while a crowd of healers stream in and out of a room down the hall, some five times the standard amount, and he wants to try and reassure him but knows he, with his perfectly healthy baby boy, delivered with no fuss by one midwife just like his two perfectly healthy sons beforehand, to go home to, is the last person in Arda his brother could stand to converse with right now.

The sons and daughters of Fingolfin and Finarfin grew swiftly, strong and athletic with hearty appetites and bright dispositions. Feanor could not bring himself to hate children so he settled for hating his brothers instead. He does not envy them their children, he loves his more than he could ever have loved anything and that’s the problem right there, he loves his sons and he’s absolutely terrified that he’s going to lose them if he lays them down too long. They’re so small and as soon as they leave his or Nerdanel’s arms they seem to tremble with cold so he sleeps with them against his chest for more of the first years of their lives than was usual. After those many sleepless nights he always finds it hard to sleep without being able to feel the rise and fall of their breathing.

Their cousins often do not understand what the difference between them and the Feanorians is, most of them have vague memories of getting scolded within an inch of their lives for fighting one back when they got into childish arguments. Mostly they just resented it or assumed it was favouritism if it were by Finwe or fear of Feanor’s wrath if by their own parents. Angrod did not think too long on how easily Caranthir crumpled to the ground at an unexpected shove, after all he was the older wasn’t he? Surely the rules about being gentle shouldn’t apply? He was equally puzzled when Fingolfin came running and scooped Caranthir into his arms, pale and panicked as Maedhros assured him he’d make certain Feanor wouldn’t hear about the matter if he was alright.

They train and become agile and skilled with blades and bows if not physically broad and strong in the way of their cousins but no matter how their health improves there are always concerns and during their approaching adulthood it becomes clear their worries are not only in body. There are migraines that leave them in dark rooms unable to bear even the sound of footsteps outside, days where Curufin and Maedhros struggle to allow any food past there lips, days where Caranthir sobs for hours with some inexplicable ache, weeks where Maglor cannot find rest no matter how much exhaustion he feels, little cuts and gashes on Celegorm’s arms that seem too frequent to be fully accidental.

If you were to look at this from a modern perspective it would probably be some genetic tendency to bipolar disorder and major depression but they wouldn’t have that kind of language because in my headcanons about Valinor they have very little experience with mental illness and no idea how to respond to it. I’m citing the whole Miriel incident to back me up there.

And just to make this even more angsty have a Tyelko quote from the fic of this I may or may not write ‘Amme always said we were her miracles, that our survival and strength was a blessing from the Valar. I was lucky to make it to my first winter. I wonder now if things wouldn’t have been better for everyone else if I hadn’t.’

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Bruises pt. 2 | d.m

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, angst

Summary: A week after punching Draco, he finally talks to you. But he comes to realize that love isn’t always the answer.

W/C: 1.8k

a/n: thank you all for the support on the first part! i apologize in advance &lt;3

Part 1 - Read part 1 here !

Your friends laughed once more as you described how Draco’s face looked that day you punched him. It has been a week since then and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. The event still coming up a few times a day, as no one would have expected someone as kind as you to be the reason for the bruises left on Malfoy's face.

As the laughter settled down, you couldn’t help but be curious as to how Draco was doing. You haven’t seen him in a week and in all honesty you couldn’t help but wonder why he hasn’t tried to get back at you for what you did. What you didn’t know was that since the day you stood up for yourself, Draco hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. 

Immediately after you got into your common room, the boy turned completely red, his stomach erupting with butterflies as he thought about how your fist felt against his cheek. ‘I’m in love’ was all he could think as he walked to Madam Pomfrey in a daze. Each time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but put his hand up to the yellow and purple bruise to try and remember what your skin felt like. 

It was a feeling that was new and confusing to him. He wanted to be mad at you, he wanted to hex you, to feel no remorse as he goes back to making your life a living hell, but for some odd unnamed reason, he couldn’t. He was completely enamored, every thought he had was of you, every time he walked into the Great Hall he would scan the room looking for your oversized robe and mismatched socks, but to his defeat you paid no attention.

On one occasion, Draco even went as far as to wait for you outside your potions class. He stood there for half an hour waiting for you to come outside, but to his dismay, you had skipped class that day to go to Hogsmeade with Harry. He walked back to his room in embarrassment after being caught lurking by Professor Snape. 

Despite his unsuccessful efforts, he knew that he would run into you soon. He put all his hopes on today.

The Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match was one that you would be sure not to miss, after all your two best friends were a part of the team. You couldn’t help but be grateful for a break from the stress of school and Draco. As you and Hermoine sat down on the stands, you couldn’t help but stare at the boy himself. He looked rather nervous, which was something unusual for someone of his caliber, as he fidgeted with the rings on his finger. His eyes moving back and forth threw the crowd almost as if he was looking for someone, that was until they landed at you. 

Letting out a small gasp you quickly looked away. Putting your head down to avoid eye contact with the boy that has made the past few years of your life a living hell. He however, couldn’t stop staring. Normally, he would be confident before a game, but today all he could think about was how you were watching. His stomach turned as he realized that you would be there to see whether he did poorly and embarrassed himself. Breathing in heavily, he tried to collect his nerves as the game started.

“Get it together, Malfoy.” he whispered to himself.

The game lasted for about two hours, the tension in the crowd was rising as the score was nearly tied, Gryffindor in the lead by only ten points. You watched carefully as your friend avoided an incoming bludger, giving you a smile before he took off again in order to find the snitch. 

“(Y/N?)” Hermoine interrupted your thoughts, looking at you with a small amount of worry in her face.

“Yeah?”

“By any chance have you talked to Draco?” She asked, giving you a small smile as you were taken aback. 

“No, no, I haven’t talked to him since last week,” you answered quietly, turning your head to look at him as he followed along behind Harry, “Why?”

“He’s been staring at you for most of the game.” 

“Wha–” you were cut off by the announcer over the speakers of the field.

“Draco Malfoy has caught the Golden Snitch! Slytherin wins!” The stands erupted with applause, cheers and a mix of boos echoing through your ears as you tried to find Draco. Your attempts being cut short as Hermoine grabbed you by the hand and led you down to where the players were.

After about twenty minutes, your friends finally came out to greet you. You gave each of them a hug and praised them for the good game. Your words of encouragement weren’t enough as the boys continued to complain about how unfair the match was, and how if McGonagall wasn’t there they surely would have given him a piece of their mind.

—--

“He’s never played like that, ever!” Harry complained once more as he took a bite out of his, now cold, steak. 

“Honestly! It’s like he was trying to impress somebody or something.” Ron agreed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of how they lost.

You glanced over at Hermione with a desperate look, but it was too late. “He was trying to impress (Y/N)! He was looking at her the whole game!” 

The boys simultaneously spat out their water, Ron choking a bit as Hermione gave him pats on the back to try and help out. They looked at you in shock, their mouths moving as they tried to come up with what to say but no words came out.

“He was not looking at me! He hates me. We all know that.” You said. Shaking your head as you tried to explain to your friends how there was no way that Draco could ever pay attention to you if it wasn’t without malicious intent.

“So you’re the reason we lost (Y/N), well I have to give it to you, you really did leave a nasty mark on Malfoy. Maybe you knocked something loose.” Ron finally managed to spit out, not before being hit on the back of the head by Hermione.

“You’re implying that (Y/N) is only likable by people who are out of their mind!” She responded while simultaneously rolling her eyes.

“Well actually,” Harry said, “I’m not out of my mind and I quite like –” but was cut off by someone clearing their throat behind you. 

You turned around only to be greeted by the devil himself. Your heart started racing, ‘this was it’, you thought, ‘he’s finally come for revenge.’ He shifted uncomfortably as he waited for someone to greet him, but finally spoke once he realized that no one was going to say anything. “(Y/L/N), may I speak to you,” he glanced over your friend's faces for a quick second before continuing, “alone.” 

You tried to respond but you couldn’t get a single word out of your mouth. Your breathing quickened in pace as you realized that you were going to be alone with Draco Malfoy once more. Surely you were going to get what was coming. 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Shut it, Potter.” He sneered at your friend, “If she doesn’t want to speak with me then she is fully capable of telling me herself.” 

“O-okay.” You finally managed to muster out. The sooner you speak with him the sooner you can get it over with. Your friends gave you an apologetic smile as you started to get up from your seat. 

“If you need help, just call for me.” Harry whispered in your ear before you left, giving you a kiss on the forehead for reassurance. You smiled and walked off, following the blonde headed boy that was two steps in front of you.

The walk with Draco was unpleasant. Neither of you had anything to say, you both stared at your feet as you walked through the empty corridors of the castle. Looking up at him, you finally noticed the yellow and purple bruise on his jaw. While you wanted to smile, taking it as a token that you won, you couldn’t help but feel bad for the mark you left on him. 

Draco turned to look at you, feeling your gaze burning right through him, and finally spoke. 

“I just,” he started, “I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been treating you. I was hoping that we could start over.” His eyes still had those golden specks, and the wrinkles showed as he softly smiled. 

You couldn’t help but to stare at him in disbelief. Years of being harassed by Draco Malfoy, and now he decides that it’s time for you two to be friends? You were insulted. No amount of time, or therapy, could ever help you get over what he has done to you. You brought your shaky hand up before slapping him right across his bruised jaw, only this time you weren’t scared.

“If you think I can forgive you that easily, then you must be mistaken. I could never forgive you, Malfoy.” You spat out, his face full of confusion as he wasn’t expecting you to answer the way you did.

“But, (Y/N),” he spoke, “I’ve changed. Not to mention, you’re the one that punched me!”

“You deserved it! And I would do it again if I could!” You spat. Your words stabbing him a million times over. He shook it off and brought his hands over yours, your anxiety building up as you had no clue as to what he was capable of doing.

“But (Y/N), I love you.” Draco whispered to you.

You froze. You felt as if the walls were spinning around you, a high pitched screech ringing in your ears as you tried to keep yourself from falling down. He tried to help you, holding on to you, but you refused. You’d rather be cold on the ground than touched by Malfoy. Finally you brought yourself up to his face.

You stared at his eyes, those same eyes that have you captivated time and time again; you took in the way his hair fell in front of his face, the bags that he developed after not getting enough sleep unbeknownst to you that it was because he spent all night thinking of you, the healing cut on his cheek, and that damn yellow and purple bruise. 

Draco’s heart was beating out of his chest. Over the past few days all he’s been dreaming about was this moment. He wanted you. He wanted you more than he’s ever wanted anything else in his life. With a passion that could only come from the universe and stars themselves. He waited patiently for your response.

“Draco,” you began, running your thumb over the cut you left, “I could never love you.”

And then you walked away.

[username-1121]

The Rise and Fall of Career Success in Vedic Astrology

I just watched D Angelo Wallace’s video on Katy Perry’s downfall in her music career. I found it so interesting and wanted to know whether we could see this decline present in her chart. Which is why we’ll be discussing music artists who suddenly rise to fame, as well as the indicators of one’s decline in their career and why some are able to sustain this fame for such a long time.

Note: I’ll only be discussing the D1 and D9 charts, as well as using the Vimshottri Dasha systems. If anyone who’s more qualified or has a valid opinion regarding my research, please don’t hesitate to comment, I’m always open to learning more :)

~~~~~~~~~~

✨So what causes the rise and fall of someone’s success? ✨

To make a long story short, the answer is simply “Mahadashas”.

A lot of people have fame indicators as well as very favourable yogas in their charts but many won’t ever run through the favourable Dasha in order to experience these fruits in this life time. Or they may run through it too early or late in their life.

- The dignity of your Mahadasha/Antardasha planet is SO important. If the planet isn’t strong or atleast well aspected then you won’t be able to reap the full benefits of that planet.

- The D9 chart is extremely important, if the mahadasha is well placed in the D1 but not in D9 then we can see a rapid decline in one’s career.

Exhibit A: Katy Perry

Katy Perry is currently experiencing a massive decline in her music career. Why is that? During her peak in the 2010s, Katy was running her Saturn Mahadasha which was in great condition in her chart :

- Exalted in her D1 chart

- But also well aspected by benefics.

- Saturn is also a yogakaraka planet for her D1 libra lagna.

If we look at her D9 chart her Saturn still maintains it’s strength:

-Saturn is in Taurus (Venusian sign)

- Saturn Conjunct Moon

- The ruler Venus in its own sign

As we can see she had an extremely favourable Saturn, she was destined to achieve some sort of recognition and success during that mahadasha. Especially in Venusian pursuits.

In 2014 she entered her Mercury mahadasha. Many will tell you that after 2015 her career took a sharp decline. If we look at her Mercury in her D1 chart we see that Mercury is indeed in a favourable sign. Although it is negatively aspected by Saturn it is still receiving good aspects from other beneficial planets. Saturn is still considered favourable in her chart so why was the decline in her career so tremendous?

Once we look at the D9 chart we notice how Mercury:

- Is Debilitated in Pisces.

- The ruler Jupiter is conjunct Ketu

This shows us how Katy Perry needs to focus more on improving her Spiritual life rather than just the material world. Which is why her art is no longer connecting with the masses the same way it did during her Saturn mahadasha.

I would argue to say that the only reason why everyone is so aware of her decline is because she’s currently in her Rahu antardasha. She unfortunately has eyes on her but not in the way she would like. As we can see Rahu can indeed bring “fame” but its not always in our favour.

But what about the artists receiving this sudden rise to fame?📈✨

Exhibit B: Charli XCX

Charli XCX has been a well known artist for the past decade. She had her popular song “Boomclap” reach the charts in 2014, but ever since then a lot of people would say that she kind of flew under the radar since then. So what’s the reason for her sudden success?

She is currently in her Rahu mahadasha which she entered in 2013. If we look at her D1 chart Rahu is in Sag:

- the ruler Jupiter in Leo.

- Rahu is aspected by many benefics.

But once we look at the D9 chart we see that:

- Rahu is exalted in Taurus,

- with the ruler Venus exalted in Pisces

So this period is bound to be beneficial for her especially in her creative endeavours.

She rose to sudden fame when she was in her Rahu Mahadasha and Rahu Antardahsa in 2014. But then things went silent until late 2023 when she entered her Ketu antardasha which is exalted in her D9 chart.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she continues to remain successful during her Venus antardasha due to her Venus being exalted in the D9.

Let’s take a quick look at Sabrina Carpenter who’s also been receiving some traction.

Exhibit C: Sabrina Carpenter

She had previously (2004 - mid 2024) been in her Saturn Mahadasha, Saturn is neutral in her D1:

- Saturn in Aries aspected by Ketu and Mars

If we look at her D9 chart:

- Saturn is in Leo but still very much conjuncted by Ketu

As we can see the planet Saturn is not strong in her chart. Saturn is also well known for being a planet that reinforces obstacles, so the fact that it doesn’t have many benefic influences helping Sabrina ease into the process is very much seen in her career. Due to this Sabrina was less likely to get early/easy success. As we can see in this mahadasha she faced many delays, challenges and late success. Saturn is not denying any success but rather delaying it.

Sabrina has 5 studio albums and 24 singles. As we can see she had been releasing music for a very long time but hadn’t gained any traction. So what changed?

Sabrina’s career rose to success when she entered her Jupiter antardasha, if we look at her chart:

- Jupiter is well placed in its own sign Pisces, in both the D1 and D9, which is considered Vargottama which is extremely powerful in astrology. In Sabrina’s case it is yielding positive results.

However will Sabrina sustain this success?

Sabrina had recently (last month actually) entered her Mercury Mahadasha which she will remain in for the next 17 years.

I personally think that Sabrina’s career might have a subtle decline and remain neutral. She won’t continually get the same attention like we’ve seen in the past few months. Of course she will still have a huge following and have people interested in her music, but it won’t be as “huge” as the era she’s currently in.

Mercury is heavily aspected by malefics and isn’t making any impressive moves in her D9 as well. She might currently be in her “peak” and the public might slowly start to divert their attention elsewhere.

Then again Saturn is known to give you success (after hard work) which reaches great heights and sustains for a very long time, so I could be very much mistaken.

But who knows, that’s just based on what I’m seeing, I haven’t done a full on analysis but I would love to know what your thoughts are on this prediction👀

And what about those who remain successful for a long time?

So we’ve discussed what allows massive success in a Mahadasha. We’ve also discussed why some people who’ve previously experienced massive success but have a sudden fall from grace, well others experience a sudden rise and why it took them so long.

But I wanted to check this same techniques with other celebrities who manage to sustain their relevance and success for long periods of time.

When we see celebrities like Ariana Grande, Billie Eilish, Rihanna etc. who manage to remain relevant and still achieve success in their endeavours it’s usually because they’re experiencing a long Mahadasha which is well placed in both their D1 and D9.

And if they do change mahadashas, that usually means that the dasha planet is still benefic in their charts therefore the success pronlongs itself.

✨Bonus observation✨

I read this article by Shankar Bhattachrjee, where he discusses this technique when checking for successful Mahadasha periods.

And he mentions how even numbered Mahadashas are more successful periods compared to the odd numbered Mahadashas.

So for example: if you were born in a Saturn mahadasha, that’s your 1st Dasha (one being an odd number) so if this mahadasha prolongs for a long time then you’re more likely to experience a very a hard and challenging period in your life.

Once you reach the 2nd Dasha (two being an even number) in this example it would be Mercury, things during this Dasha are more likely to be more successful and beneficial during this time period.

And this continues on, so Dasha 1, 3, 5 tend to be harder compared to 2,4,6 Dashas.

So if you’re currently in your 3rd Dasha then you’re more likely to face hardships and struggle in your life.

Please read the article down below, he really does explore this in greater detail and more nuance.

But I found this to be very accurate especially studying all the charts I mentioned above, as well as other celebrities. Of course there will be one or two exceptions but I found this technique to be almost 90% accurate. I also found this very accurate when studying the charts of people that I know in my personal life.

I notice that celebrities tend to almost always shoot to stardom/success during their even numbered Dasha, and will sometimes decline in their success during odd numbered Dasha. I saw this present in Katy Perry, Selena Gomez, Beyoncé, etc. who are all currently having a decline in their career because they’re in their odd numbered dashas.

Of course if the planet is well placed in the D1 and D9, and your birth chart has a promise of success then things will manifest differently.

Eg: Billie Eilish and Ariana Grande, both rose to fame during their 3rd Dasha but they of course have multiple beneficial yogas in their charts and are going through a beneficial Dasha according to their respective charts. So they are the exception :)

If you haven’t you should check out more of his blogs on the website, he has some incredibly accurate and interesting astrological insights :)

[girls-alias]

Dean's Dream

Title: Dean's Dream.

Words: 842

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: A little spicy, no smut. (Kissing, sexual hinting)

Prompt:

Dean is captured by a Djinn and dreams of Y/N.

DEAN'S POV:

I woke up feeling like my head was spinning. Was I drinking last night? I don't remember drinking last night... I don't remember much, actually. I squinted in the daylight as I looked around. This is definitely a woman's bedroom, I must have been drinking.

I sat up, scratching at my hair a little, legs falling to the side of the bed. I noticed I was only wearing boxers, I smirked a little before looking for the clothes I must have discarded on the floor. I sucked my teeth as I thought, there are no clothes here. Where are my clothes?

"Morning," A woman's voice practically sang to me. I grinned as I turned around to look at her, I must have been great last night if she's singing the next morning.

"Morni-" My jaw dropped at the sight of her. My God! How God damn hot is she? Holy shit! I have really outdone myself. Jeez. She brought me home last night? I must have been really smooth last night for her to want me. Damn! She giggled, blushing slightly at my reaction to seeing her as she headed to her set of drawers. My eyes glued to her, damn. Hot from every angle.

"Are you just going to sit staring at me all day?" She asked with a smirk which told me she didn't care about the answer. I smirked rising from my position to approach her. She giggled turning her back to me slightly to continue looking for some clothes she could wear. I snaked my arms around her, my fingers rubbing on her silk dressing gown as I softly kissed her shoulder.

"Mmm, I'd like to do a lot more than stare," I teased, humming at the thought of it. God, I wish I could remember last night, to remember how last night was and what happened. She giggled and moved her head to the side, I took it as a hint to start kissing her neck. She hummed, seeming to bite her lip as I kissed her neck slowly.

"Deeeaann," She whined softly like she was fighting to stop herself, I grinned, lips still connected to her neck. "I don't think we have time," She expressed, my eyebrows furrowed with confusion slightly. She makes it seem like we have plans together soon. "Don't tell me you forgot," She prompted. I pulled away from her, thinking for a second. What did I forget? She turned around to look at me with a shocked expression. I looked at her confused and like she was a little crazy. I don't know this woman, not really. Is she actually crazy?

I've slept with some crazy women in my life when I - Well. When I - Hmm, I can't remember. Causing me to be even more confused. Why can't I remember? My eyes wandered around slightly as I thought, my eyes landed on a framed photo on top of her drawer. In the beautiful gold frame was a picture of me kissing her, dipping her down so she had one leg in the air, which I held at the knee. She was wearing a tight red dress that fanned out at the bottom a little, she looked heavenly, her hair loose and falling effortlessly. I was smiling as I kissed her. I zoned into the photo.

Nothing else mattered as I reached for the photo and held it in my hands, looking at it closely, studying it. A part of me wondered if it was edited but it looked real and felt familiar. She had moved to stand beside me, looking at the photo too. I glanced at her and she smiled brightly.

"That was a beautiful night," She reminisced, continuing to smile as she softly touched the frame. She seemed to think back to it, as she smiled brighter. "I still can't believe Sammy was there by chance to take this photo of us saying I love you to each other for the first time. You had to have planned it," She chuckled thinking back on the memory. Sammy, Sam. I need to see him, I can't remember anything, I feel like I am in the right place but it feels wrong. He'll be able to help me.

"I want to see Sam actually," I explained, stepping away from her slightly. I tried to act natural but some part of me felt that something was wrong. She smiled brightly, for a moment, more than a moment it all felt okay. I was home, I'm in the right place just confused.

"We're obviously going to see him, if you can pick your clothes quickly we might have time," She hinted with a soft grin. I was confused for a second before she placed a hand on my chest and moved closer to me. I instantly understood.

She smiled as she leaned up, kissing my lips softly as her hand moved to the back of my neck. I smirked into the kiss, deepening it, my hands finding her waist and pulling her close.

God, I wish I could remember right now.

Just want to know what people hope for in the next chapter. Please let me know 😁😍

Part 2 Smut chapter. Doesn’t affect the story line and so you can skip if you want.

Part 3 back to the story.

Masterlist

[super-cosmic-library]

loosely based on this post

tw: mentions of blood

Look, everyone had gone through a vampire phase. One Mrs. Stephanie Meyer had a heavy hand in that. And even if one had somehow managed to skirt the whole Twilight saga, there were a litany of other vampire books/tv shows/movies that came in its wake. Almost everyone in the 2010s wanted a vampire boyfriend. Even Robin, whose taste veered toward the more extraterrestrial side of paranormal fiction, had confided in Steve that she wouldn’t mind having an undead, blood sucking vampire girlfriend.

All in all, Steve didn’t get it. Why did nearly all of the girls in his grade fawn over the idea of getting with someone older than their great grandfathers? It was gross. Not to mention the fact that vampires didn’t have blood, so how would they even be able to get it up in the bedroom? 

The whole mess baffled him to no end, and he was grateful when its popularity died down. He didn’t know if he would be able to take listening to Max and El giggling over Edward What’s-his-face.

His relief, however, was short lived. Just as the kids he baby sat started to enter high school, the Twilight saga had a resurgence of popularity all thanks to TikTok. Only this time, he didn’t just have to hear it from the girls. Max and El had gotten Lucas and Will to watch the movies with them, which led to them reading the girls’ copies of the books. And, look, Lucas he understood. When Steve was in high school, he would have done anything to please Nancy. (Luckily, she had been more interested in the rising popularity of the dystopian genre. He had thoroughly enjoyed listening to the Hunger Games series on audiobook.) But Will? Even if he was just doing it to bond with his sister, Steve thought the boy had more taste than that.

And when Lucas and Will became obsessed with it, so did Mike and Dustin. Again, Steve understood Mike, even though unlike Lucas, he was totally oblivious to his crush on Will. But Dustin? As far as Steve was aware, Suzie wasn’t allowed to read the series, even though the creator was also Mormon.

At least Erica was still at the age where she turned her nose up at any hint of romance.

But, you know, it wouldn’t be such a big deal if the kids obsession with vampires contained itself to the fictional world. He could deal with it better if it did. If then, they might be able to talk about other topics of interest. Hell, Steve would give anything to listen to the boys ramble all day long about their Dungeons and Dorks game. But Steve wasn’t so lucky.

Because while he loved the kids’ strong, creative imaginations, it meant that sometimes their fictional obsessions would spill over into the real world. And that. That was what he was really fed up with.

“I swear, it’s him,” Dustin nearly shouted over the other boys. “Same name. Same exact hair. He’s a vampire.”

Steve restrained a groan as he looked up from the dishes to see Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike at the dining table crowded around what appeared to be a high school yearbook.

“He can’t be!” Thank god, Mike was being the voice of reason. (Something Steve never thought he would be.) “I’ve seen him walk to his van in the sun, and he was totally fine. Also, on spaghetti day in the cafeteria, he ate, like, three slices of garlic bread!”

Steve had thought too soon.

“Then how do you explain this?” Dustin asked, gesturing to the page.

“Maybe it’s someone he’s related to?” Will offered.

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

Curiosity got the best of Steve. What could he say? Even if he hated this whole vampire thing, he enjoyed the weird little adventures his kids went on. Steve didn’t have many friends growing up. Hell, aside from Robin, he didn’t have many friends now. At least, friends his own age. It made his heart warm, seeing all of them getting to be a bunch of idiot children together. 

But they didn’t need to know that.

“What are you little shits looking at?” He slung the dish towel he had been using to dry the flatware with over his shoulder, and made his way over to the table.

“Steve, we think our new DM is a vampire!” Dustin announced excitedly.

Steve put his hands on his hips (his signature mom pose, according to the kids), and rolled his eyes. “Vampires aren’t real.” 

He didn’t say it to dull the kid’s enthusiasm. If anything, antagonization was their form of love language. Plus, Dustin always took the discouragement as a challenge to double down on whatever stance he took. Steve had to admire the kid for his confidence in himself. He knew first hand how easily that could be stripped away. 

“Then how do you explain this?” Dustin slid the yearbook over for him to look at, pointing at  the man in question. “He’s been in high school for years.”

Steve glanced down at the page. “Oh, Eddie Munson? He was in some of my classes last year. He was held back twice; though, that may have been because he almost never showed up to class. But that doesn’t mean he’s a vampire.”

“This is an old yearbook, though,” Lucas countered.

“If last year is old, then how ancient do you think I am?” Steve snipped. He pointed to the class picture that captured his likeness. “Look, there’s me. Does that mean I’m a vampire?”

“Steve, this isn’t your yearbook.” Dustin held the cover of the book up for Steve to read. There on the cover, in green and gold, were the words “Class of 1985.”

“What?” He snatched the yearbook from him, and flipped back to the page they had been studying. “No, that’s . . .”

He trailed off. Yes, that picture had captured his likeness; however, it was his father’s name that was written underneath. His father, who he was apparently the spitting image of.

“Maybe it’s his dad,” Steve tried, flipping through the pages. “Or his uncle. Doesn’t he live with his uncle?”

“We already checked the rest of it.” Mike snatched the book away from him. “He’s the only Munson in there.”

“His dad and his uncle could have not been in high school together,” Will countered.

“Thank you for being the only reasonable person here.”

Will blushed at Steve’s praise. 

“I am telling you,” Dustin trudged on. “Eddie Munson is a vampire. And we’re going to prove it.”

~~~

Proving it ended up being more challenging than the boys had thought. As Mike had already proved, Eddie had no aversion to garlic or the sun. Crosses, Lucas pointed out, had no affect on him either, seeing as he wore one on his ring. So there went that theory. Dustin had even followed him into the bathroom one day to see if Eddie had a reflection in the mirror. He ended up having two Eddies stare at him like he was a creep.

Either none of the stereotypes were true, or--and Dustin was loathe to admit it--Steve was right.

There was still one more thing they could try.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Lucas said.

Dustin huffed. “Well, do you have any better plans? Because the only thing we haven’t tried yet is a stake to the heart, which is a dumb thing to begin with because that could kill anyone.”

“What about holy water?”

“And how are you going to get a priest to agree to bless a bottle of water?” Mike asked.

“My pastor might do it,” Lucas said.

“Let’s just try this first,” Dustin said. “And if it doesn’t work, you can call your pastor.”

The plan was simple, really. While they were playing DnD that afternoon, Dustin was going to “accidently” get a paper cut. Eddie’s reaction to the fresh blood would determine whether or not he was a vampire. It was fool proof.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Dustin was a fool. Who could blame him, though? Eddie was an amazing Dungeon Master. He knew just how to craft a story to suck just about anyone in. It wasn’t until they were packing up at the end of the session that Dustin remembered the plan. That probably explained the looks the other boys had been shooting him the entire time.

Dustin was just about to drag the edge of a piece of paper across this hand, when the drama room door banged open.

“Alright, you little shits. Get in the car. I’m already having a bad day, and I don’t need your moms blowing up my phone asking where you are.”

“Steve, why do you have a tampon in your nose?” Will asked.

Dustin glanced up at Steve, only to find that the man indeed had a bloody tampon in his nose.

“I had a nose bleed, and didn’t have any Kleenex in my car. It’s the only thing Robin or I had. And it works, so I don’t want to hear anything more about it.”

Blood.

Dustin nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at Eddie. Eddie, who was staring at Steve with eyes that could only be described as ravenous.

“King Steve,” Eddie drew out as he approached Steve.

“Munson.”

“Now why’s a pretty jock like you carting around a bunch of nerdy freshmen?”

“I baby sit them.”

Eddie chuckled. “Yes, they are a bunch of babies.”

That was met with a round of protests from the kids.

“How hard was your nose bleeding? Aren’t tampons supposed to be super absorbent?”

Lucas was right. There was a ring of blood leaking down the tampon.

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

Eddie, however, did not look okay. Dustin had never seen him so focused on one thing as he was with Steve’s nose. And that included DnD.

“Yeah, it just happens sometimes. I’ll be fine. Now come on, or Robin’s going to start honking.”

They were being corralled out of the building before Dustin could come to any concrete conclusions, but judging from the way Eddie had stared at Steve’s nose, he was sure their hunch was correct.

Now they just had to prove it.

~~~

Turned out, the best way to prove their DM was a vampire was to show up at his trailer unannounced. Catch him off guard while he was at his most comfortable. In fact, the hardest part about the whole thing had been trying to convince Steve to drive them over to the trailer park. In the end, he was a push over as always.

Dustin bounded up the steps to the trailer, the other boys close behind. He pounded on the door. “Eddie!”

A crash came from inside, followed by a grumbled “shit.” A few moments later, Eddie swung open the door.

“Couldn’t have given me a heads up?”

“We have some urgent DnD questions. Couldn’t’ve waited for you to respond.” Dustin and the rest of the boys pushed passed him into the trailer. Only Will hesitated, sheepish look on his face.

“Hey, wait, what are you doing!” Eddie called after them.

“Oh my god, have some manners,” Steve slammed his car door closed.

“Steve,” Eddie began. “They roped you into this?”

“They threatened to walk otherwise. Couldn’t let them get hit by a car or kidnapped.”

The four boys searched around the tidy trailer, not even trying to appear like they weren’t.

“What are you knuckleheads doing?” Eddie asked.

Steve, who they had not informed what they were doing, seemed to have caught on to their plan. “Not this again.”

“You know what they’re doing?” 

“Guys, look!” Mike, staring in the fridge, exclaimed. The boys ran over to him.

“Hey, you guys, get out of there!” Eddie exclaimed.

“Yeah, knock it off. Let the man live in piece.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Will gasped when they saw the contents of the fridge. Yes, there was normal people food in the fridge--nothing to write home about. But stacked on the top shelf was the motherload: bags and bags of blood.

Mike grabbed one and held it out for Steve to see. “We fucking told you!”

“Eddie’s a vampire,” Dustin vibrated with excitement. “Eddie, you’re a vampire.”

“Eddie’s not . . . there’s gotta be . . .Eddie?” Steve looked to Eddie as if asking him to deny the kid’s claims.

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and heaved out an exasperated sigh. “Looks like you caught me.”

“I fucking told you!” Dustin shouted at Steve.

“Language.” Steve snapped. “Eddie, come on. Be serious. Vampires don’t exist.”

“Telling the truth, Harrington.” Eddie flashed them his fangs. “I am a vampire.” 

“You’re teeth aren’t normally that sharp,” Will said.

“I can control when my fangs come out,” Eddie said with a shrug. Then, to demonstrate, he retraced his fangs, so his teeth looked human again. “It’s been handy in hiding from mortals. In fact, you guys are the first to figure it out. Surprised it took this long for anyone to notice, honestly.”

“So you’ve been able to hide in plan sight for, like, hundreds of years?” Dustin asked.

Eddie slouched down onto the couch, understanding that he was about to be pelted with about a million questions. “More like forty.”

“Forty?” Will asked.

“I was turned in the ‘80s. ‘86, I think. I don’t know, the years start to blur together.”

“So, you’re just as old as our parents?” Mike scoffed. “Lame.”

“But I look much better than them.”

The boys took his nonchalance as permission to start their rain of questions.

“So do you have vampire powers?”

“How can you eat garlic?”

“Does the sun not burn your skin?”

“Do you have to get permission to enter new places?”

And on and on they went, only briefly pausing for Eddie to get a sufficient answer out. Meanwhile, Steve just stood by the door. Dustin could tell he was trying to process the fact that he had almost graduated with a vampire. Dustin could understand. Had he not already been convinced himself, the information would have taken a bit to accept.

When Steve finally came back around, he joined the group surrounding Eddie. 

“Why are you still at Hawkins High?” Steve asked. “You were in class with my parents. Couldn’t have you gotten out and gone someplace people won’t recognize you?”

Eddie paused, actually giving that question some thought. The other boys let him think it through instead of feeding him more questions. They wanted to know the answer too.

“Well, I tried to once, but then Wayne started having health problems, and I didn’t want to leave him alone. When I realized that I had stopped aging, I decided to stay with him even after he recovered. Realized that if I don’t grow old, I’m going to outlive him. I’d rather spend the rest of his life with him, than in hiding and regretting it when he’s gone. As for people recognizing me: you’d be surprised how little attention the freaks of Hawkins get.”

The group sat in silence for a moment, letting his words sink in. Dustin supposed that if he were turned into a vampire, he would stick around to spend as much time with his mom as he could.

“Speaking of, where is your uncle?” Lucas asked.

Eddie smiled to himself. “Technically, he’s my little brother. We started doing the whole uncle/nephew thing when he got too old to believably be my brother. And he should be finishing up his shift at the hospital. Decided to become a nurse after finishing chemo. He has always been the smart one. Besides, it helps with procuring my stash of blood.” 

Mike perked up at that. “So you do drink blood?”

“Yes.”

“But we’ve seen you eat real food.”

“You’re point?”

Mike huffed. “So do you need blood to live, or is it just a craving--like wanting a Coke?”

“I can eat real food, but it doesn’t fully satisfy my hunger. Only drinking blood does that.”

“Have you ever?” Steve gulped. “Have you ever drank blood from a person.”

“You offering?” Eddie smirked.

Steve flushed.

Weird.

As his friends continued to talk, Dustin’s mind wandered. It was no secret that Steve found men attractive. He was the biggest slut in Hawkins, after all. And Dustin had only ever seen him nervous around men who he thought were really hot. 

Oh, Dustin could have fun with this. After all, didn’t everyone want a vampire boyfriend?

okay, well this completely got away from me. will I make this a series? mayhaps.

[justanoasisimagines]

Sparks fly (1/?)

Summary; Y/N "Sparks" Potter is the twin sister of James Potter. After the first Wizarding War she struggled after losing her twin, Lily, Sirius and Harry. As Dumledore refused to allow her to get custody. With the Dark Lord rising, she's done lurking in the shadows. This is her story. Pairing; Eventual Remus Lupin x Female Reader WordCount; 1,525 Warnings; Mentions of grief, mentions of Snape's bullying, Angst and fluff, use of Y/N A/N; Reader goes by Sparks Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

With the Dark Lord risen a choice was to be made; what was easy and what was right. Too many had joined the darkness he spread. Yet the light was brighter. Eventually, they won but at a great cost.

Those who survived the first Wizarding War struggled with haunting memories, which often crept into their dreams creating horrific night terrors.

Y/N "Sparks" Potter was no different. She'd fought hard and valiantly, side by side with her twin brother and her friends. On the thirty-first of October Nineteen eighty-one, the Dark Lord was defeated by her nephew nonetheless, yet while he survived he felt the need to grieve for him too.

Professor Dumble had refused her custody. He'd attempted to reason with her. According to Dumbledore, it was in Harry's best interest to keep him away from the Wizarding World. Yet Y/N believed there were better options. Why would Dumbledore leave him to a couple who despised magic? Who hated his parents. She could see no good reason why Harry should be left with them.

After Sirius's arrest, she couldn't take anymore.

With her spark diminished, Y/N sunk into the shadows. She couldn't handle any more pain and sadness. She'd lost friends, and her family, and one of her best friends had been an accessory to their death. Her nephew being taken from her grasp was enough.

She couldn't handle the betrayal. She'd been fiercely loyal to Dumbledore and Sirius. Knowing because of them Harry wouldn't be able to recognize her in the years to come. Y/N "Sparks" Potter went underground.

"How can you be so certain she will show up?" Sirius stood in the kitchen of his childhood home, a hand resting on his hip.

"I don't. However, you were not there when she begged Dumbledore to allow her custody of Harry. I was. It took her three years to let me know where she was."

"So you agree, we can't guarantee."

"She will trust me"

"At least one of you trusts me." Sirius and Remus's heads snapped towards the doorway. There she was. Older and the bags under her eyes suggested she had not slept properly in days. For the first time in over a decade, the three of them were in the same room. Remus was the first to react, engulfing her in a warm and familiar embrace.

The two had seen each other only a couple of days ago, yet that was a couple of days too long in their opinion. When they pulled away, she kept him at arm's length, examining him closely.

"Are you looking after yourself? She asked. Remus nodded but the skeptical expression she maintained was welcomed. She'd always worried about him too much.

"I'm fine, you worry too much"

"You would do the same for me."

"You both worry too much. Hello Sparks." Remus stepped aside allowing the two to get a good glimpse at each other. Sirius took a gingerly step forward as did Y/N. Suddenly it became chess. For every step one made the other matched.

Until at last they were both face to face. Looks of familiarity were exchanged. Many conversations needed to be had but they could wait. Sirius opened his arms; an opening an invitation.

The floodgates opened as emotions rushed forward. Both searching for unspoken comfort. Both had lost so much as a result of the first battle. None of them were no longer excited about entering adulthood. They were adults who were tired and tested for the harshness of the world.

Remus gazed upon the two fondly. Finally, the two had been reunited and soon everyone would be reunited at last.

"I'm done hiding Sirus. History can't repeat itself."

"I wouldn't really blame you if you'd stayed away. I know what you lost"

"Is Harry already here?" Sirius observed her eyes soften. Harry was none the wiser today his life would change. Today he would gain another piece of his family. Another warrior ready to fight for him. To protect him at all costs.

"No, the order has gone to retrieve him. He'll be arriving shortly. However, there's something you need to know." Sirius then proceeded to inform her of the Ministry's latest tactic. Harry was now being used as a political pawn in the constant back and forth between Dumbledore and Fudge.

"The longer Fudge is in denial, the more power he gives. Surely Fudge understands that."

"He's scared, Sparks. Sometimes it's easier to turn a blind eye than face the truth." Remus replied as they all glanced at each other, full with contemplation.

"So what can we do?"

"Focus on Harry and recruiting. If he wants a fight we're going to give it to him."

Sitting around the long table, examining the array of faces. Some were familiar others were those of strangers. She glanced down, picking at the skin around her nails, a habit she'd picked up whenever she was anxious. She struggled to pay attention to the influx of information.

There was no time to paddle in the shallow end.

An arm draped over the back of her chair. She didn't need to look up to know who it belonged. One of Remus's qualities was subtly, He knew how to comfort someone without saying a word. A smile was exchanged between the two of them as she relaxed into the chair, leaning into his arm.

"The prodigal twin has finally returned. Tell me, have you finally decided to claim your nephew" Severus goaded. She'd expected this from him. Their relationship in the past had been muddled in conflict. They'd been friends against her brother's wishes, but after he called Lily a mudblood, she couldn't stand by and allow it. She distanced herself shortly after that.

"Snivellus"

"Sirius don't"

"He can't speak to you like that."

"Are you going to stop me?"

"Are you two seriously still behaving like this? None of us are children anymore! I had the opportunity to be an Aunt taken away from me. Dumbledore told me it wasn't safe. I put trust in the man I know. All the while feeling betrayed. I'd lost the chance to watch Harry grow up. Up until the moment I held Harry in my arms for the first time, I'd never known what it was like to love someone unconditionally."

"Sparks you don't have to explain" Sirius replied.

"Don't I? Severus is only saying what people are probably thinking. When I heard Sirius was on his way to kill Harry I made sure I was close by. Even opened up a bookstore in Hogsmeade. Last year, I attended every single one of his tasks. Having to lurk in the shadows while evil attempted to take my nephew from me. Do you have any idea what it was like to stare at him and see my brother looking back at me? All I've had for the past fourteen years is knowledge given to me by others. So if anyone dares to believe I would allow anyone to hurt him then-"

Suddenly everyone was looking at the door. Y/N turned her head to see Harry standing in the doorway. Harry was James's double. Like looking at a photo.

"So you're my Aunt?" She nodded in response, as Sirius beckoned him into the room. People excused themselves, allowing them some privacy.

The silence was awkward. No one knew what to say, yet the energy was charged.

"How much did you hear?" Sirius questioned.

"All of it. Why would Dumbledore do that? Does he know how cruel the Dursleys are?"

"Dumbledore did what he thought was right. I need you to know, I would have raised you in a heartbeat."

"This is a lot to take in." Harry looked down. In the past few hours, his life had spun like a timeturner. He didn't know what to think, but he always desired to have someone to care about him. From her speech, it generally felt like his Aunt cared.

"If you have any questions, you can ask them. I'll answer them and if I can't I'm sure Remus and Sirius can help."

"Sirius called you Sparks earlier. That's the other name on the Marauders map. Why Sparks?" All three of them laughed amongst each other, a nickname which had stuck. For the most ridiculous of reasons.

"Someone over here is awake from the moment their eyes open. So we nicknamed her Sparks because the second she opens her eyes a spark is lit."

"Are you an animagus?"

"Yeah someone had to keep this lot in line. My animagus is a wolf. I've heard yours is a stag. Just like your Dads"

"Am I anything like him? My Dad"

"The way I see it, you're the perfect combination of two people I loved. Fiercely protective of your friends, a rule breaker and stubborn like your Dad. Meanwhile, your ability to be uncannily kind that's your mother's heart. She was kind to everyone even if they didn't deserve it." She leaned over and placed her hand on top of Harry's with a gentle smile.

As events would soon unfold, friendships would be tested. Love would blossom between old friends. The Dark Lord would attempt to overtake the Wizarding World again. Again he would face those brave enough to stand against him.

[completeoveranalysis]

[6]

Ooooh! I didn’t expect that if Watanuki knew his original name, Evil Wolverine would have been able to manipulate him back to whatever Evil Wolverine intended of him, but it makes sense at least. If Watanuki doesn’t even know his birth name then it can’t be used against him. And so Evil Wolverine has no idea where he is. 

Which makes you think a bit doesn’t it. Is all Evil Wolverine needs to track someone… their name? Specifically their birth name? It would make sense why he was still able to track the Tsubasa Family even after they deviated from his course and started doing things in a new order. If he knew even just one of their birth names, he could find them - and like, Fai is a great candidate for that. Fai was the mole, so it would track that he was also there secondarily so that Evil Wolverine could always watch them. 

I don’t think Evil Wolverine would have access to Lava Lamp or Kurogane’s original names. He might have had Sakura’s, since he’s in the Clow Kingdom, but then again maybe it was Clone Syaoran as well? Due to the technicality of his name being given to him at the moment he started existing? At the very least Fai is the only one that seems like an easy Yes and not a Maybe. 

Also, in hindsight, Evil Wolverine not knowing where Watanuki is shines a bit of light on the fact that whenever Yuuko has been seen interacting with Evil Wolverine in any way (ie, spying on him, commenting on his plans, or even that one time she tracked his location) Watanuki has never present. She always did that without Watanuki around, so that even if it backfired, Evil Wolverine did not get a glimpse of where Watanuki was. I never knew any of that before but it all connects so well!

And that chilling panel on the left there! With Evil Wolverine above the sky filled with souls he stole from innocent people. Especially since it’s these souls that he used to create his replica people, and we’ve seen what’s become of most of them now. 

And! I really like the wing! The single solitary wing rising from the bottom left corner, pointing straight towards Watanuki in the next frame over. It’s a good call back to the iconic wing behind the Tsubasa logo, in a series all about wings and feathers, and how Watanuki was secretly central to that storyline all along.