#and now she’s realising everything is returning back the way it was before the war where society rules matters and she has her own role as

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[youraverageaemondsimp]

To Ruin. // Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

THIS IS A DARK FIC, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: you are aegon's and helaena's daughter, being the eldest triplet, you were betrothed to your older uncle Aemond the moment you were born, he seemed to show no interest in you, being lost in his own world until he returns to kings landing and sees you again, in your prime age. // based on this request.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, p in v sex, fingering, orgasm denial, knife kink, blood kink, dacryphilia, breeding kink, choking kink, corruption kink, purity culture, age system is in accordance to medieval/canon standards and not modern but do not worry they dont get sexual until reader is 19, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, thoughts of violence, fucked up shit, age gap (13 years), extreme canon divergence, cunty aemond + not proofread

WC: 4.3k

The moment you were born, you were immediately betrothed to your uncle, Aemond Targaryen. Alicent never wanted to betroth or marry someone from the same family after Aegon and Helaena but Otto convinced her to do so, even if they see it as a sin. Telling her that it would secure the hightower blood further down the line.

When Aemond was informed of this, he laughed, he was just thirteen back then, the idea of marrying someone that was just born seemed comical to him, especially when the babe was his elder sister's and elder brother's daughter, but he quickly accepted it, as he realised it was his duty.

Aegon however, was against it, calling you too young, but he was only sixteen at that time so his opinion was disregarded.

You were the oldest by an hour to your younger siblings, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

You were informed of your betrothal to your uncle when you were ten years old, that's when they deemed you old enough to understand what marriage and everything was. Aemond had turned twenty three that year, performing his duties as the prince of the realm, securing aegon's claim to the throne, claiming lands and power back to their hands successfully. At the end, Rhaenyra was successfully usurped, having lost way too much before she died at the hands of Aegon. And then came Aemond's march to Harrenhal, killing off every person that contained even a single droplet of the strong blood, except he spared one, Alys rivers, who he took as his war spoil and a bedmate.

He spent most of his time there with her in Harrenhal, burying himself deep inside of her, and other political matters, only returning to King's Landing when he was needed, just like now, but what he didn't expect was you. He was surprised to see you.

You were no more the gangly limbed child he knew you as and remembered you to be, your breasts and hips were fuller, your face having lost its childlike appearance as you were going through puberty, becoming more sharp and mature, having recently turned seventeen, You were becoming a woman now. You greeted him with a small smile. “Welcome back, Uncle.” you greeted him and he swallowed thickly, hoping you had not noticed how his breeches tightened as he got hard at the sight of you. Your beauty captured him.

“Niece, you've grown.” he comments, eyes shamelessly roaming over your breasts, which you weren't aware of, “You too Uncle, it has been a while since we properly saw each other.” you tell him and he hums, looking at the soft flush of your breasts pushing against the bodice, almost calling out to him to set them free, he fought with every urge to not do so.

It was when he spent some time with you, he realised he didn't know you at all, so he put in effort into knowing you, courting you properly which you were taken aback by, always knowing him to be distant towards you, but that was only because you were a child, you are a woman now, and he was a lot interested and willing to be with you.

It was on your eighteenth name day, which he attended, when he cut off multiple ladies tongues out for bad mouthing you, they had said mean things about you, calling you too old now, that nobody would be interested in marrying you if your betrothal to Aemond was called off, which was unsurprisingly a rumor circulating due to Aemond's involvement with Alys, his disinterest in you and your grandmother, Alicent, doing nothing to make the betrothal move forward. It had been a messy name day but it was also the moment you fell in love with your uncle, impressed by how he defended your honour and your name.

Aemond had to return to harrenhal as there were some pressing issues which needed to be taken care of, and he was less than enthusiastic about it, not even the thought of seeing his spoil made him excited. He was sitting on his chair doing the paperwork when Alys walked into the room, she sat on his lap and caressed his face, “What is it my love?” she cooed and he sighed heavily, not in the mood for her, “Get out.” he said, and Alys was heavily hurt by it, but left nonetheless. His mind was constantly on you, he remembers how your breasts pressed against his chest when you hugged him during your name day, and he immediately gets hard at the thought, that night, he finishes in his hand before cleaning himself up.

You had plagued his mind, cause he couldn't look at his lover nor bed her anymore because she isn't you, he was becoming more and more insatiable, tired of fucking his own hand, he was in need of a real cunt.

He stopped ordering silk green dresses for Alys and instead ordered dresses of material you would wear, the colour palette you dearly loved, and requested her to wear those instead, and do her hair up in a way you did, so he could at least pretend she was you when he fucked her, moaning your name loudly while being buried inside of her cunt. He knew he was being cruel to Alys, but he couldn't give a fuck, and Alys kept quiet, not wanting to anger him, knowing that he could kill her.

But it still wasn't enough, no, because it wasn't you.

Aemond was so delighted when he was called to the keep again, it means he got to see you, it was to discuss matters of the realm, and after what seems like hours, his mother finally changes the topic. Which catches his immediate attention.

“I think it is in our best interest if you marry aemond and y/n soon, maybe in a moons time, there have been various slanderous whispers about their betrothal, and i want to put an end to it.” Alicent says and Aemonds heart picks up it's pace at that. “It's better if we call off the betrothal.” Aegon's voice booms across the chambers. “I do not think it is necessary anymore, not after we have won the war. Rhaenyra is dead, the blacks are dead, my daughter shouldn't need to marry her uncle anymore.” Aegon reasons and Aemond clicks his tongue, “It is my duty brother, to keep our valyrian blood pure, I do not mind marrying my niece.” Aemond replies and Aegon sighs. “You need not perform your duty anymore, she is my daughter, and I do not wish her to be subjected to your cruelty, little brother.”

“My cruelty? What of your whoring?” Aemond grits his teeth, and Alicent visibly flinches at the mention but Aegon only laughs, “I have put it past me dear brother. You however, still are as merciless.” and Aemond scoffs.

“I want to marry her.” Aemond says, tone final, staring daggers at Aegon, and he just laughed. “Alright, Alright, it was merely a suggestion.” Aegon backs down which makes Aemond calm down. “The matter is settled then, the wedding will take place when the moon turns.” Alicent says and everyone nods.

Another moon to finally bed you? Gods be damned, he cannot wait that long.

So he didn't.

He snuck into your chambers that night, through the secret tunnels, he had expected you to be asleep but you were awake, sitting on the chaise, reading a book of some sort, but you didn't hear him enter your chambers, so you jumped when you heard him speak.

“Hello, Niece.” you snapped your head to the direction of the voice and were surprised to find Aemond.

“Uncle? What are you doing here” you asked and he just stalked towards you, “Mhm, is it wrong to see my future wife?” the word wife rolling off his tongue with such delicacy. “No- you misunderstand- i merely meant that–”

“What are you reading?” he asks, cutting you off and coming even more closer to you, he took the book from your hand and you stood up, feeling vulnerable when you were just sitting.

“A romance novel huh?” he asks and you nod, he would love to go through the content to tease you, but he had no interest in wasting his time, he came here with a purpose.

“Dear niece, we are to be wed in a moons time.” he says and you look at him, “Understood, Uncle.” his gaze was too intense, so you looked down in submission of a sort.

He felt his cock stir at that, the way your puffy lips were pouty, eyes darted to the ground, like a good obedient and innocent wife.

Oh seven hells how he wanted to ruin you.

And so he would.

You were surprised when Aemond threw the book on the chair before grabbing you by your arms and pushing you in the direction of your bed, he slammed his lips against yours in hunger, swiping your bottom lip with his tongue, you were frozen in shock before it finally clicked and you used all your strength to push him off.

“We-we shouldn't, we are yet to be man and wife.” you breathe heavily, hoping he'd understand but he doesn't. He pushes you down unto the bed before getting on top of you, you panic, “U-uncle- please.” you were scared.

You knew how dishonourable it is to lose your maidenhead before marriage, it will ruin your reputation, it did not matter whether the person who took it was soon to be your husband. It is a sin, and you were extremely protective over it. After all, your grandmother raised you to be protective of it, saying it is a woman's honour that should not be given carelessly.

“P-please uncle! You said we were to be wed in a Moon's time, then you can have me! Please!” you beg and he smirks, “No can do, niece. No way in seven hells am I waiting that long, not after I have suffered so much because of you.” he says, and before you can say something, he grabs your throat, choking you, “Shut the fuck up. I do not want to hear your pleas.” he says meanly before squeezing your neck tight, making you see stars and leaving your head feeling light as the blood supply to your brain was being cut off due to his ministrations.

“P-pl-ple-” you try to choke out, tears welling in your eyes until he finally lets go of your throat, causing you to gasp for air, the air entering your lungs so quickly making it painful.

Aemond takes the dagger from its holder and starts cutting, tearing up your nightgown, the sound of clothes tearing filling the chambers as you pleaded him to get off of you, how your virtue was an important thing to preserve, how embarrassing it would be if you did not bleed on your wedding night, but all of that fell deaf to his ears, his only mission was to fuck you.

Soon enough, you are completely bare, you crossed your arms across your chest to protect your dignity but he pulled them apart, pinning them to your sides, “Do not hide yourself from me.” he said, voice low, emitting a slow growl. You sobbed.

“P-please, I promise I won't resist or hide myself from you- just wait until our wedding night, I am begging-” he shuts you up by pushing his lips against yours, his hands leave yours before he starts undressing himself, undoing the clasps on his clothing, he pulled apart to completely rid himself of his clothes, feeling to suffocated.

He was very fit, lean muscles coating his body, defining and toning his arms, chest and thighs, you felt yourself clench at the sight of him so bare, you were beginning to get aroused.

Aemond leans and places gentle kisses on your face, before trailing down your neck to lick and bite at them, you felt a burning sensation when he bit too hard, causing you to yelp, he pulled back and looked at the bite in satisfaction, which was now drawing blood. You whimpered pathetically.

You didn't like the feeling of ache between your thighs.

Aemond leaned down once again to take one breast into his mouth, suckling on it like a hungry babe, causing you to gasp, your breasts were extra sensitive considering you were near your moons blood, you gripped his hair and tried to pull him away but, he bit down harshly onto to your nipple making you tug harder at his hair for the pain to subside, however the more you tried pulling him off, the harder his bit and latched on, the other hand painfully dug into the flesh of your other breast, nails biting through the skin, so you removed your grip on his hair, and only then did he stop his inflictions of pain on your tits, beginning to suckle at your nipple in a pleasurable way,

Your hand reflexively went to his hair again, but this time instead of trying to pull him, you held him there like that, arching your back when you felt his warm tongue tickle the bud, shoving more of your breast into his mouth, he hummed in satisfaction before he pulled away with a wet pop, to continue the same thing on your other breast.

It was sensual, it was so slow, and you were getting aroused by the minute but your fear of committing a grave sin still plagued your mind.

“A-aemond-” you say his name making him groan and pull away to look at you, “Gods, when you say my name like that- it makes me want to ruin you so fucking hard.” he confesses and you gulp, his hands part your thighs, exposing your core to him.

You try to clench them shut in reflex but he holds them apart, visibly drawn by it, you felt the cool air hit your clit making you shiver, he trails his hand down your inner thigh before rubbing small circles there, teasing you.

You whine, the ache beginning to get even more stronger, making you buck your hips, hoping his hand grazes over the sensitive part, but he just chuckles, “Greedy are we? What happened to waiting till marriage?” he mocks you and you fight back the tears of shame, he then presses his fingers right onto your core, parting the flesh and caressing your clit, you twitch at the foreign sensation.

His other hand leaves your thigh as well, and he uses both of his thumbs to hold the flesh covering your core apart before he leans down and sucks on your pearl, making you arch your back in pleasure, his tongue flickers over your bud constantly, sending sparks of pleasure.

You were shocked when he did that, how can someone put their mouth over there?

Your hips start to move on their own, trying to keep up with his rhythm, he groans at your attempts and pulls away, you whine at the lack of warmth, “Be still.” he says and descends onto your clit again, and you try really hard to be still but you couldn't help it, you grip his hair, shoving his face into your cunt to the point he was suffocating but it didn't matter to him, this would be the best way to die according to him.

You feel something creeping up at your core, a itch that keeps plaguing you, a certain type of string tightening constantly as he continued his actions, you were confused until you were snapped out of your own confusion by an overwhelming feeling of pleasure hitting your body, causing you to moan loudly into the chambers. Aemond drinks up your release like a dehydrated man before pulling away and looking at your face, he chuckles when he finds you looking confused and dazed, eyes teary, wondering what the feeling was.

“It's called a peak, my love, was it your first time?” he answers, staring at your face and you tilted your head in confusion.

Women can peak?

You knew how the act is performed, the cock goes into the cunt, and you're supposed to lay there taking it as your husband impregnates you. It was taught to you by your grandmother alicent, it was supposed to hurt, not feel intimate. If you're lucky, you'd get a few kisses on your face and neck.

But what aemond did was so foreign, you didn't know you could experience sexual pleasure like this.

“Y-yes, but i- i didn't know.” you blush while saying it, you don't need to finish the sentence before aemond caught on and Aemond almost moaned at the thought that you didn't know anything, that you probably thought that sexual pleasure can only be felt by a man.

Oh how he was going to show you all the ways.

Oh how he was going to corrupt you.

He smirked.

You looked up at him, the tears from the orgasm threatening to fall, and oh gods how that made him want to be extremely cruel, he wanted to ruin you. It set off his blood thirst, something he would only feel while fighting during battles, when he burnt the riverlands with vhagar, when he took the life of his own uncle, when he slaughtered the strong house watching as the blood coats the ground, the screams of men, women and children alike. He hadn't felt that in a while considering the war was long over.

And so he would.

His eyes trail over to the dagger that laid forgotten on the bed, and he reached out for it, changing his grip and pointing the blade at the direction of your body, you look at him in what seemed like fear but he didn't care, he brought the blade down gently, and then pressed it against your skin, piercing through the skin. You winced at the burning sensation, he removed the blade and watched as beads of blood poured out, he leaned down and licked it all up, the iron tasting sweet to him.

You whimpered in pain, feeling the twinge, when the wound was met with his saliva, causing an even more burning sensation to plague at your skin.

He pulled back and watched as the blood smeared onto the surrounding skin, the wound already trying to close up. He looked at your pained expression and decided that he wouldn't be that cruel and scar your body as much as he would've loved to since it was your first time with him, he needed to leave a good impression after all. When you're truly his wife, he'd ruin so much.

He watched as the tears fell down your face, he licked them up before pressing gentle kisses to your eyes. “Shh.. It's okay, I won't do more.” he says and you whimper, trusting him.

He pulls back and grabs his hard leaking cock. The tip all flushed pink, it looked so painful.

It was painful, he was so fucking hard the entire time, he was trying to savour everything before he fully went in, but he realised he had no such patience for that.

He lined it against your cunt, and slid his cock up and down, coating him in your juice before he caught the tight hole which wouldn't open at all, and he realised he needed to prepare more for you to be able to take him.

So he replaced his cock with his fingers, shoving one inside you slowly, feeling all the ridges of your inner walls, wishing it was his cock that was inside you.

He started pumping in and out, curling his fingers from time to time to graze over the rough part located inside you, and you felt your stomach tightening again, and before you could reach your peak, Aemond pulled his fingers out. “H-huh?” you looked at him confused and he smiled meanly before shoving his fingers once again, and making you come to the edge but never topple over it, pulling out every time you were so close. It made you frustrated.

He decided you were relaxed enough to take his cock, so he replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing the tip inside, making you grip your bedsheets underneath tightly.

He wanted to go slow, let you adjust to him, but it was way too much, he finally got to be inside you after what felt like way too long, these past few years he always dreamt of this moment, so he lost control and slammed himself fully inside you cruelly, pushing to the hilt, making you scream in pain, which he shushed you by cooing you and caressing your cheek.

Your legs twitched visibly, he pulled back, thinking he was taking his cock out, you relaxed but then he slammed into you, causing you yelp and then he started pulling and pushing over and over again, the pace messy at the first because your walls were still trying to adjust to him, sometimes even pushing him out.

But then as the continued thrusting, the pain slowly went away and you felt pleasure beginning to rise, causing you to relax around, and he moaned in pleasure when he felt you loosen up around him, not holding his cock in a tight grip that made it impossible to move without hurting you.

He fastened his pace, unable to hold himself back, he fucked into you brutally, breaking your maidenhead, he watched the sight of your maiden blood coating his dick leaking onto the white sheets below, and he moaned your name.

The chamber was filled with lewd noises, wet slapping sounds as his hips rammed against yours, his balls slapping at your ass as he thrusted in and out, sweat coating his eyebrow, he was grunting loudly, he wasn't usually a vocal person, but with you? you bought out the worst in him.

He felt his peak beginning to come, but he wanted you to peak first, so his hand went over to your clit and rubbed small circles over it, and the pleasure intensified for you, you peaked extremely hard, wet fluid gushing out of you, all because of the multiple denied orgasms finally catching up to you.

Aemond moaned as he watched your juice coating his cock, and he was reaching his peak too, “Fuck- fuck- going to fill you up, with my seed, watching you grow round with my child in your belly.” he babbled and reached his peak, his cock twitching inside you, shooting ropes after ropes of cum, coating your walls.

He didn't pull out, staying inside, making sure his seed didn't spill, he began to soften inside you.

He pulled and held you close to him, before he propped down on your bed, pulling you on top of him, his cock slipping from inside you at that, you laid on top of him, head on his chest as you listened to his fast heartbeat, it was relaxing for an odd reason.

He grabbed the sheets and threw them over both of you, covering you and himself and then slowly drifting off to sleep.

The maid couldn't have picked the worst time to enter the chamber in the morning, she usually entered without knocking since you and her were close, but she gasped when she found you stop aemond cuddled and then noticed the blood on the sheets, it didn't take a genius to figure out what went on, and she quickly reported it to the dowager queen.

Enraged was an understatement. Alicent was extremely disappointed, barging into the room, by then aemond had already put on his breeches and he was confused when he saw her, then he figured it out.

You woke up, gripping the sheets tightly to your chest as you watched your grandmother yell at her son, your uncle.

And just then your father barged in, along with your mother, she quickly rushed over to you to check if you were alright and looked at her younger brother in disappointment.

Aegon had never been angry like that in his life, he went straight for Aemond, tackling him to the ground, trying to hit him, “You ruined her! Couldn't your ass wait until the wedding? What was it that made you so impatient?” Aegon yelled at his brother, and Aemond dodged every hit Aegon threw his way.

“Fucking CUNT!” He was mad, and one of hits finally landed on Aemond, punching him right in the face.

“Father! No! Please.” you yelled, but he didn't listen and that's when you started sobbing loudly, which made him immediately halt and rush over to you. Aemond spit the blood that coated his mouth on the ground and got up.

“My dear.” Aegon looked at you sadly, noticing all the cruelty Aemond left on your body.

“The wedding is to be held in a week.” Alicent's voice booms the chambers

“Mother you cannot be serious! He-” the king tried to reason with her, but she looked at him with a stern expression and he backed down, he was the king yes, but he knew he would never stand a chance against his own mother.

Aemond simply smirked, accomplishing what he had wanted, Aegon glared at him.

“Please, I want to be alone.” you say and everyone looks at you, you were extremely tired and you didn't want this hassle.

The matter came to an end like that, you watched everyone leave reluctantly, except Aemond, you looked at Aemond, waiting for him to leave, but instead he sat down next to you and made himself comfortable in your presence.

Aegon grit his teeth, turning around to storm into the room but Alicent and Helaena held him back, and you didn't say anything else, but leaned your head on Aemonds shoulder.

That told everyone what you wanted and they soon left, you allowed yourself to get comfortable in his presence. Slowly falling asleep.

“My sweet girl.” you heard him coo before the sleep finally pulled you under.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 

“Of course, your highness.” 

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed. 

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[the-wrong-providence]

To Date a Criminal

Bucky Barnes X Celebrity!F!Reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: Angst | Talk of ending relationships | Asshole Interviewers | Language | Brief mentions of sexism | Fluff? 

Summary: Bucky’s history is a problem to some of Y/N’s fans

Author’s note: This is more angsty than I originally intended, but life is a shitty mess so there’s no point sugar coating it lmao. Unedited. Didn’t know what to call it, so this is what I landed with.

"A-list celebrity Y/N Y/L/N is speculated to be romantically involved with ex-assassin James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. A lot of people believe that Barnes should be convicted of the numerous murders that he committed over the course of the Cold War, but Y/L/N seems to have no issue flaunting her criminal boyfriend on every platform she has a voice. The 108-year-old man was once a close friend to Capt-" Sam turned the TV off. Bucky stared at the blank screen for a little longer, before swallowing heavily and looking down. Sam wanted to say something but struggled to find the words.

Bucky sighed. "This is fucked," he said after a moment. He appeared to be fairly calm about it, before he slammed his fist down on the table, leaving a small dent in the wood. "What the fuck?" He shouted out, as Sam crossed his arms.

"Buck, you know better than to listen to that shit," he said. Bucky turned to him, shaking his head.

"It's not about me listening to them." He started. "Y/N is being attacked. Even if she doesn't agree, her entire reputation is at stake, for dating me. They're calling me a murderer for fucks sake." Bucky ran his hand through his hair. Sam sighed. Of course, he didn't care what people thought about him. He'd been receiving death threats and insults daily since returning from Wakanda, he was used to it. "She has every reason to leave me. She'd be an idiot not to." He mumbled, turning away from Sam.

Sam sighed. He couldn’t argue with that. But something he’d come to realise is that both Bucky and Y/N were complete dumbasses when together. “Just, talk to her, man,” He replied, leaving Bucky to stew by himself.

*

He sipped his drink slowly, hearing the door slam close and a loud sigh. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve had to deal with today,” She said, throwing her coat onto the back of a dining chair. She bent over the sofa and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “The guy who was interviewing us made some sexist comments before we even began, so we just knew it was going to be a long session,” She kicked off her shoes and sat on the sofa beside him. “It was really tempting to just walk out on multiple occasions, but apparently I needed a better reason,” 

Bucky grinned quickly, before placing his glass on the coffee table. "Baby, we need to talk," He began. Y/N looked at him and her eyes narrowed in confusion. She couldn’t read his expression at all. Her face fell when she realised that his smile had disappeared. 

"What about?" She asked cautiously. Her heart sped up.

Bucky took a deep breath. "You need to break up with me," he said. 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him. Everything was going well. She really liked Bucky and she thought he felt the same for her. "I don't understand. I don't want to." She said.

"And I don't want to either. But people are calling me a murderer." Bucky looked at her finally, and she could see the sadness in his eyes. She let out a deep exhale, relieved that she’d not done anything to upset him.

It took her a moment to think her way around his comment. "But you're not a murderer, and I don’t care what people say," She replied, crossing her arms across her chest.

Bucky smiled softly. Y/N was brazen, just one of the many things he liked about her. “Sweetheart,” He started, “I’m not worth ending your career over,”

She bit the inside of her cheek and turned away. Whilst she held the belief that he very much was worth it, she didn’t want to admit that now. Not if things were going to end. “Do you want this to end?” She asked. He was fairly insistent.

Bucky seemed taken aback. “No, god no, you have no idea how much I don’t want this to happen. But you have to do the smart thing here. You can’t stay with me,”

“I don’t care. I’m not ending this.” She said indignantly.

Bucky rubbed his forehead. Fuck, he loved her stubbornness sometimes, but it was not helping right now. “Your reputation-”

“I’m not worried about my stupid reputation! I couldn’t give less of a shit about it!” She shouted back and Bucky stared at her. She exhaled heavily and furrowed her eyebrows. “The only thing I’m worried about is you, Buck,”

Bucky clenched his jaw and turned away. “Well, that’s really not convenient. Because I worry about you and the way people treat you and the way everyone sees you. And you not giving a shit about that sort of thing really makes my job a lot harder,” He replied, and Y/N smiled. 

She pulled his face back in her direction, and her hand fell to rest on his chest. Pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’d leave everything behind to stop you from worrying,” She admitted and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You’re crazy if you think I’d let you,” He raised his eyebrows, but grinned, all the same, leaning in to kiss her again.

She pouted at him. “I’m starting to think that you want me to be famous more than I care for it,” She joked.

“Not famous. Successful. I want you to do well, and I like seeing you get the recognition you deserve. I need people to love you as much as I… love you,” He paused at the last words, and looked down, hoping she didn’t notice.

But of course, she did. She’d been waiting to hear those words for weeks now. She stared at him, noticing the slight pink tinge that was creeping up his neck. “Buck,” She began. “I love you too,”

He looked up at her, searching for any hint of a lie. It had been a while since someone had said those words to him and meant it. As if she could tell, she took hold of his wrist and directed his hand to feel her heartbeat. “I love you,” She said again, smiling at him. 

“And if you still think we should break up, then you’re the crazy one. Especially after that super romantic admission of your love for me,” she stated, grinning at him as his cheeks tinged pink. He looked down, but his small smile was very much evident.

He sighed. “You’re right. As much as I hate to admit it,” He said back, as Y/N giggled. She kissed him again, and Bucky’s hand moved to hold her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I love you,” He murmured in the space between them, their foreheads resting against each other.

*

One of the downsides of being a celebrity was having to maintain a social presence. As a result, Y/N had to attend several red carpets that she had no real investment in. This particular time, Y/N was being interviewed by someone from some media outlet that she was unfamiliar with. The questions had strayed from anything remotely related to the public perception of her boyfriend.

“Bucky is not a murderer,” Y/N scowled at the person interviewing her. Her dating life was noones business at the best of times, but it was entirely inappropriate to discuss this right now.

The interviewer smirked at the rise they were getting. “He was one of the worlds most wanted criminals. He’s credited with at least two dozen high-target assassinations. He’s responsible for the Avengers breaking up back in 2016…”

Y/N stared daggers at the interviewer, and their face fell as they noticed. They stopped talking and swallowed heavily. “Bucky is not a murderer. He was given a pardon which has forgiven him-”

“Implying that there was something to forgive.” The interviewer interrupted “Why do you think it’s ok to date a war criminal?” They added.

Y/N lips parted in surprise. “You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. If people have a problem with who I love then that’s their issue. I do not have to listen to you insult my partner.” She snapped back, before storming off to the bathroom.

On her way there, a hand took hold of her wrist and pulled her away. Looking up, she saw Bucky beaming at her. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” He held his arms around her waist. His face fell when he saw her look in her eyes. “What’s happened? Are you ok?” his first instinct was to check her over for any injuries.

Instantly she let her tears fall and leant against him. “Why do people have to be assholes?” She bawled out. Bucky hugged her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. He held her tight, letting her cry into his chest.

“What did they say?” He growled, angry that anyone would have the gall to insult his girl. He looked around to determine whos fault it was. If anyone seemed even remotely guilty for the upset that they’d caused, but everyone seemed fairly content with themselves.

She sniffed quietly. “They were being so rude about you! I had to leave the interview,” She replied, and Bucky seemed taken aback. They’d insulted him and she was distraught.

He held her at arms length and looked at her, lowering his head so that she was staring directly into his eyes. “There are always gonna be assholes in the world, but you walking away from them in that situation helps people realise. You are so incredibly brave for walking outside your door every day when you know what people have said about me. And for that I love you. I worship the ground you walk on. I’m honored to have a place in your heart.” He said sincerely, desperate to calm her down.

“But you have to promise me that you will not give these people a place. Please don’t let them hurt you. Don’t take these shots that are meant for me,” He added, caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, but seemed to smile. “Buck, I would take actual bullets for you,” She said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bucky chuckled. “Very unwise. Bullets hurt like hell. And you’d be taking a lot of them,” He bantered back. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I love you sweetheart,” He smiled.

Y/N exhaled heavily, smiling back. “I love you too,” she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna come with me?”

He looked at her, confused as to what she meant. “Back onto the carpet? What about the interviews?”

She grinned. “Maybe you can do some staring if they piss me off.” She giggled.

Immediately he seemed excited. “Oh sweetheart, don’t tempt me!”

[a-firsthand-murder-ballad]

AFHMB is a dark fantasy, colonial era WIP IF with some historical inspiration and intended for a ~16+ audience. It is hosted on Itch.io, made with Twine, and will be free start-to-finish. Demo here.

Warnings for general death, very briefly mentioned infant death, war, and disease, amongst others.

The war’s victory was not a joyous affair. There was no celebration when the encroaching forces were routed from the land. No drinking. No parties. No cheering or tearful greetings from spouses who had not seen one another in nearly a decade.

The silence was unmistakable. Loud. Overwhelming.

There was no joy to be found in it.

The removal of enemy soldiers from Herritus was instead met by one of the bleakest seasons to have ever settled over the country’s south. Crops and livestock died of the cold, infants were unable to be roused from their frigid sleep, and chromatia returned from its grave with wretched determination.

The streets are deserted- not a soul travels the worn roads. The homeless freeze to death and community shelters across the nation are wrung dry. Not even a noble such as yourself is safe from the cold’s grip.

It seeps in through the cracked windows, through the gaps under the doors. Your fire cannot douse it. No matter how many lanterns you light, the shudders will not be dispelled. You don a dozen layers; it finds a way through each.

When you are diagnosed with the grey ruin and made to realise you may have only a few months left to live, you must take it upon yourself to remove any remaining loose ends- before the sickness takes you.

And yet...something is wrong in the town of Nērisk. Something impossible is happening. And someway, somehow, it all ties back in to your brother’s murder twenty years prior.

Reminder that everything here is subject to change. It is a WIP for a reason.

- Customize your MC, including their gender (with options for women, men, and nonbinary MCs, plus enby men and women) and pronouns (supports multiple sets and custom input), appearance, and skills.

- MC’s personality is semi-set.  You can shift the way they develop and how they react to some situations, but some facets of themself will always be set.

- Optionally romance any of 9 options, with 10 poly routes available, including one quad (four person) option.

- Discover that not everything in Nērisk is as it seems, and that you cannot put your past behind you quite so easily...

- You are not the hero of this story. Rediscover old friends, and with them, old vices you thought you’d overcome.

Florain Vettikar [M/F]: An individual from your past you held dear (ex-best friend or ex-lover), taken from you too soon as karmic retribution. They’re long dead...but that doesn’t mean they’re gone.

Aviri von Jhersten [NB]: Someone you knew long ago. Their hands and yours are stained with the same blood, yet they were the one to claim guilt for the fresh grave. Now, they return, with new money and old vendettas.

Cillian Rittaker [M/NB/F]: You had seen Cillian once in passing as a child, a poor orphan your mother had shooed you away from. Nowadays, ze’s a powerful healer...and Nērisk’s final bastion against the chromatia.

Liel Amorson [M/F]: A childhood friend. You haven’t seen them in the decades since their family was forced to flee Nērisk, but now they return. You’d think they hadn’t changed at all if not for the emptiness in their eyes.

Acrocantus vel Yurius [M]: A son of the king of a distant country, who ran to Nērisk to escape his father and his homeland. He’s completely out of his depth...and is paying you to let him stay in your manor.

Ueryphus el Lirisis [NB]: Vel Yurius’ personal guard. They don’t trust you, and maybe they’re right not to. Still, they manage being unhappily polite, if only due to your extended grace when it comes to housing them.

Niphiles Ivares [F]: A wanderer, constantly coming and going. You’ve seen her around a few times, maybe even had a chat or two. Now, though, she’s trapped here in Nērisk, and growing increasingly paranoid…

Micah Kirrest [NB]: An annoyingly kind and persistent barkeep- and perhaps the only person you can call friend. Recently, you’d been separated, and now ey refuse to leave your side...no matter the circumstances.

Allifair ve Ketimnar [M/F]: As a child, they were forced to train under the same church authority you were, and now, they’re a priest with that same church. They hide their guilt well with jokes and snark. Too well.

[Poly routes are Florain/Aviri, Florain/Liel, Florain/Micah, Aviri/Micah, Cillian/Niphiles, Cillian/Aviri, Cillian/Allifair, Liel/Micah, and Acrocantus/Ueryphus.]

[The four-person poly route is Florain/Liel/Micah.]

Demo

Tag Directory [TBA]

[omgrachwrites]

Wicked Game - Chapter One

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Weasley!Reader

Summary: When you realise just how bad your parents financial situation is you make a deal with your fathers boss.

Warnings: muggle au, fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this! The other chapters are going to be longer and this is going to be a relatively slow burn. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

masterlist

Chapter One

You knew that your parents were struggling financially, you had always known, especially when you were at school. They had managed to send all eight of you to an exclusive boarding school so you never minded that your things were second-hand, you thought they added more charm. Now, that you were out of school, it seemed as though your parents were struggling even more, your dad’s boss, Mr Riddle had cut his hours right down.

Arthur and Molly were too proud to ask for help – despite having an array of friends who would drop everything to help – and they had denied your help more than once. You really didn’t want to see your family out on the street so you decided to take drastic measures.

“I’m heading to London today,” you told your mum as you sat down for breakfast on a warm summer’s morning.

Before she could reply, your twin brother spoke up, “Why, what’s in London? I thought you weren’t at the shop today.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ron, just because your nose is enormous doesn’t mean you should be poking it in other people’s business,” you flicked his nose causing him to bat your hand away and he scowled at you, the tips of his ears turning red.

After a quick breakfast, you were out the door and on the way to London, despite being pretty far out in the countryside you only needed one train to get there. The journey seemed to go by so quickly and soon enough you were walking into the lobby of the high rise building. It was so quiet and clean that it seemed clinical. The receptionist looked at you with wide eyes when you told her who you were there to see but you weren’t waiting long until she led you into Mr Riddle’s office.

As you walked in, trying to stop your hands from shaking, the older man looked up at you and took in your appearance, “you’re Arthur Weasley’s daughter,” it wasn’t a question as he gestured for you to sit down.

You nodded as you cleared your throat and sat down, “y-yes, Sir.”

“And what does Arthur Weasley’s daughter want with me?” he asked as he went back to signing the papers on his desk.

“My parents need help,” Mr Riddle glanced up at you with a raised eyebrow and you elaborated, “financial help.”

“Ah,” he had a ghost of a smirk on his face as he dropped his pen on top of his papers and leaned back in his leather wing backed chair, “if your parents hadn’t of had an army of children maybe they’d be in a much more comfortable position.”

It was amazing how quickly your fear turned to anger and you couldn’t stop the next words that fell from your lips, “well maybe if you gave my dad reasonable hours then I wouldn’t be here,” you folded your arms and narrowed your eyes.

Riddle blinked at you before letting out a harsh laugh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “my dear, all working hours have been cut since the war ended.”

“Still, there must be something I can do, please I’ll do anything,” you didn’t mean to beg but you were getting desperate now. Why wouldn’t he help you? A man in his position of power was exactly the sort of man who would help you, but he wouldn’t, not for nothing in return.

“You would do anything to save your family from ruin?” when you nodded he smirked and buzzed for the receptionist, “Bella find my son and send him in.”

Moments later, Mattheo Riddle came striding into the room like he owned it, he was even more handsome than he had been in school with the same sullen look on his face. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw you standing in his father’s office but he nodded at you all the same.

“Y/N.”

“Hi, Mattheo.”

“You see, Y/N,” Riddle started “I have been trying to make a marriage for my son and at every turn he has rejected several extraordinary women,” Mattheo flushed and his eyes dropped to the floor at his father’s words, “you see, it’s very difficult for those fools to take me seriously at the Ministry without a marriage. You say you would do anything to save your family? Marry my son.”

Matteo’s eyes widened, “father,” he started but fell silent as Riddle gave him a hard look.

Riddle looked back at you, “accept and your family will want for nothing. Refuse, and I will make their life a living hell.”

This was the last thing you expected – or wanted – your heart was in your throat but you had started all of this and now you had to see it through. Briefly, you wondered why he would ask you, given Riddle’s opinion of your family. But you realised it was to keep you in line, you weren’t an idiot. You glanced at Mattheo who refused to look at you and you turned back to Riddle.

“When you put it that way, how can I refuse? Of course, you leave me no choice but to accept.”

Riddle smirked, “excellent, I’ll make the necessary arrangements. Mattheo, please show our guest out.

The younger Riddle glared at you as he gripped your elbow and steered you out of the room, “what the fuck, Y/N? Why would you do that?!” he hissed.

You managed to shake him off by the time you got to reception, “you heard your dad, I didn’t have a choice!” you conveniently ‘forgot’ to tell him that it was you who had sought Riddle out.

“You’re going to regret this,” there was a fire blazing in his usually cold brown eyes.

“Trust me, I already do,” you scowled.

As you got home, you had a guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach so you decided to shut yourself in your room. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You were shut in your room all day, even when Hermione came to visit. You didn’t see anyone till later that evening when your dad barged in.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Mattheo Riddle.”

Your heart sank like a rock as you looked at your dad’s disappointed face, “what do you want to know?”

“You’re not marrying him, Y/N.”

“I already accepted.”

“Well unaccept!”

“I can’t!” you sighed, “you guys needed help, I never meant for it to get this far but it’s done. If I refuse he will make our lives hell, you know he will. All I wanted was to help,” but you feared you had made things worse.

“We never wanted this for you, Y/N,” Arthur sighed as he awkwardly lingered in the doorway.

“Look dad, I know and I’m sorry. I’ll try and get out of it somehow.”

Arthur nodded with a sigh as he left the room, knowing the conversation was over and knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to change your mind.

A couple of minutes later, you decided that you needed some air, you all but crept by the living room where Riddle was having a hushed conversation with your parents. As you headed towards the back door, Harry called after you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You groaned and turned to face him, knowing that he’d have something to say, he always did, “Harry, please. I really don’t need a lecture off you, of all people.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Harry laughed, throwing up his hands in mock defence, “I’m not going to lecture you. It was brave what you did, stupid,” he added “but brave.”

You laughed, “I agree with the stupid part, but thanks Harry,” you grinned.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be a Riddle though,” he said with a look of distaste on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a real tragedy,” you laughed, “see you, Harry,” you shot him a wave as you headed outside into the warm summer air.

The air smelled sweet, like honeysuckle and lemon and you gazed around the wild garden, feeling sadness linger in the pit of your stomach. You spotted Mattheo sitting on the garden wall, smoking a cigarette. With a sigh, you walked over to him and sat next to him as he nodded at you.

“It’s nice out here,” he nodded at the strings of fairy lights that had been weaved through the flowering bushes, “you caused quite a stir it seems,” he mumbled as he blew out a plume of smoke, being careful to not let it get in your face.

“Well, it was getting boring around here, so I thought I’d spice it up,” you laugh as Mattheo’s lips almost quirked up into a smirk, ���so,” you started, “what’s your reason for agreeing to marry me? What’s in it for you?”

He scoffed as he looked at you with brown eyes so unlike his dad’s cold blue ones, “my father says jump, I ask how high.”

“Oh,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t imagine having that sort of relationship with your family, “I’m sorry,” you hadn’t just ruined your life, you’d ruined his too.

Mattheo pulled a face, “don’t be silly, you don’t have to apologise for anything. Look, Y/N, despite what the papers say about me, I’m not a monster. I’ll treat you how you deserve to be treated but, Y/N, I’m never going to love you. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Personally, you thought love was overrated, people did stupid things when they were in love, “well, I’m never going to love you either.”

“Perfect,” he nodded, flicking the stub of his cigarette away.

“So, when do you take me away from my family?” you joke.

“Not until the wedding, my dad wanted you to move in straight away but I convinced him there was no need.”

“Thank you.”

The handsome boy looked at you in bewilderment, like he didn’t know why you would thank him, “don’t look for any redeeming qualities in me, Y/N. I have none.”

Before you could reply, Riddle was striding across the garden, “we’re leaving, Mattheo.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon,” the boy nodded at you before disappearing up the country lane.

With a sigh, you headed back inside the house to find everyone sitting around the table. As you walked in they all stared at you as you sat down. Sirius looked impressed while Lily looked like she felt sorry for you. You knew that someone was dying to say something.

“Just don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your glass of juice.

It was silent for a couple of moments before Ginny spoke up, “hey, at least he’s hot,” everyone let out a nervous laugh and fell into an uneasy conversation as they waited for dinner.

[ginnyw-potter]

Ginniversary Bingo N41 - Lost things Also on AO3

Luna had the kinds of wisdoms that weren’t always obvious to other Ravenclaws, but Ginny could always appreciate them. One of the things that Luna had told her, she held onto during that dreadful year leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts.

One time Luna had told her that ‘Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect’. It became Ginny’s mantra. The year of losing things became the year of hope. The year of torture became the year of fighting back. And she had to have faith.

Many things were lost during the Battle, ones she did not expect to find their way back. Her brother’s death weighed heavy on her, as did the deaths of Tonks, Remus, Colin and too many others.

One thing did come back to her, not in the way she expected at all. The young, innocent and hopeful part of her had expected a dramatic happy reunion where she jumped into Harry’s arms and nothing else mattered. It did, though. Everything mattered, it tore through her painfully, and he knew it too. He did not offer more than a comforting smile and a squeeze of his hand.

If she was honest with herself, the darkest part of her had expected him not to return at all. Something she had lost would be gone forever, no matter what Luna said.

The man that settled down beside her now was one that refused adamantly to be changed by the war, even if inevitable. He did not falter in his convictions and fought against the darkness every time. She could not have expected it, because she could not have fathomed what he’d have to go through.

He sat on the side of her bed silently. She had asked him to come.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked him.

“No.” He shook his head and looked up at her. “Did you?”

“No.” She looked at him for a long moment. “You’re not going to run off again, are you?” It was half a joke, but something inside her was looking for reassurance.

“Never.”

Green eyes focused on her securely and tenderly. Suddenly the hope bloomed almost violently in her chest, threatening to break through her ribcage. Her lips crashed onto his with desperation. It only took him a moment to react and then his arms came around her. Everything that loomed over them before was gone, barriers lifted. Promises he could not make that got stuck on his tongue at the last moment, longing looks that led to nothing… They were a thing of the past.

His hands ran up her back and her neck. He cupped her face gently and put just enough space between them to speak. She held his gaze.

He breathed out and his breath landed on her lips. “I want to tell you…”

She shook her head. “You will tell me later.” The tilt of her chin was both a question and an order. Later, much later for all she cared—they had time.

He inhaled sharply as if he realised it too. “Later,” he agreed.

His lips landed back on hers and when his hand carded through her hair, it reminded her of long-lost moments by the lake.

[importantchaosgiver]

Where Loyalties Lie:

The Saviour Arrives

Summary: With the war Stepstones comes battle and blood. (Y/N) has seen battle, but after this... others realise that the realm wasn't so vulnerable after all...

Warnings: Canon typical swearing, blood, descriptive death and wounds

******

(Y/N)'s POV

This fighting reminds me of so much. But after two years of this? It is no Tarth. Daemon and Caraxes provided an advantage, but the Crabfeeder was cunning. I looked up from sharpening my sword to see Corlys. "How are you today?" he muttered. I looked down. Every day since I came here, since I disobeyed the king's wish, I could feel myself changing constantly. "No more than usual," I uttered, looking at Red Saint, cleaning the blade. This fighting helps me take my mind off things. Such as Viserys's new wife... Alicent. Last I heard, they had a child. Aegon II. That vision I had... it was true. I told Corlys of it and he was concerned. But if my vision was anything to go by, there would be more children.

"No one can fault you for what you feel, (Y/N)," Corlys whispered softly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I feel nothing," I hissed, my fangs flashing in the mist and fire of the camp. "Yes, you do. I am not a fool. I saw the way you looked at Viserys when he announced whom he would marry. I could see your heartbreaking in your eyes. You can try to deny it, but I saw the truth that day," Corlys said calmly. My hand clenched even tighter around the hilt of my sword.

"It was nothing. A pathetic spark of emotion. He did his duty," I muttered. "I think it's more than that. You went against everything to come and fight here. Word had it Viserys was looking everywhere for you," he said. I looked down at my boots. Seven Hells, why must emotions be so confusing?! "I'll be lucky if he lets me remain a Kingsguard if ever we emerge victorious," I muttered, sheathing my sword. "Or if we do, he may be inclined to something more," Corlys said as I tied back my hair. "I've been by his side a long time. He has other Kingsguard, others who would do better than I," I said. "No one could replace you, (Y/N). One day, you will see," he said, letting go of my shoulder before walking off to prepare for anymore attacks. I sighed, looking out at the Stepstones. Fire and bloodshed. And what am I thinking of? If Viserys ever loved me? Pathetic woman, I scolded myself.

~~~

I sliced down some of the Triarchy, looking at Daemon. "Now I know what my father felt like when you fought by his side," he said, panting as we were practically back to back. "Back then, we had Vhagar. And it didn't last two fucking years!" I shouted, slitting a man's throat. "Still, quite a thrill," he chuckled. I gave him a look. "If we make it out of here alive, I will skin you for that. This is not fun nor a thrill!" I hissed, cutting down another soldier.

Caraxes was heard overhead. Good, the dragon couldn't have had better timing. As I turned around, I gasped, seeing a soldier behind Daemon. I grabbed the prince by the collar of his chest plate and pulled him away, clashing Red Saint with the soldier's weapon. The uneven ground left me with a strange and hazardous footing, making my defense and offense slightly weaker. The last thing I saw was a blade coming straight at me...

No One's POV

Daemon's eyes widened in horror as (Y/N)'s pained scream echoed across the battlefield. He hit the ground and quickly turned to see the soldier deliver a blow to (Y/N)'s face. She stumbled back and the soldier kicked her back, sending her off the rocks, plunging deep into the waters. "NO!" Daemon roared, cutting down the soldier with Dark Sister. But when he tried to find his friend, his brother's most trusted ally... there was nothing. Caraxes roared, as if feeling the weight of the loss. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't!

~~~

It hadn't been too long after that, that the war was won and Daemon returned to King's Landing, a crown of bone upon his head, his long hair cut short and some new scars gracing his body. But, unfortunately, when he walked into the throne room without Lady (Y/N)... people whispered and murmured amongst themselves. Viserys's breath hitched as he feared what was always his biggest fear. "Where is she?" he whispered. Daemon looked down after he had bent the knee, handing his crown over. "If it weren't for Lady (Y/N)'s efforts... I would not be standing here today," Daemon whispered. His voice sounded almost meek. He didn't want to deliver such news to his brother that their oldest and most loyal friend had died. The room grew still as the weight of those words came to be realised.

That was, until... the bellowing of dragons were heard. Confused, people went outside to see what was going on. The day was early, the morning rays of orange bathing the city. But that wasn't the focus. Upon the city walls, despite the distance, someone was clambering up. Then, they stood and everyone gasped, their breath stilling. It was... (Y/N). Her armour battered, her white cloak gently flapping behind her. Her long hair fluttering in the breeze. She looked at the city, raising Red Saint, the blade dripping blood. Her face... it had a lengthy gash on the right side. From her hairline, down. Her eye was closed as the end of the gash finished at her jaw. It soaked half of her face in blood, but she still stood. Viserys froze as the sun's rays shone behind her. He knew this sight. How? Before Jaehaerys died, he told Viserys of his dream. The dream of the White Saviour. The sword of blood, the cloak of white, the gash upon the face. The White Saviour... was (Y/N).

From below, people cheered, applauding as she revealed herself. She entered the city and walked all the way to the Red Keep. Blood dripping behind her, her clothes soaked with sea water, her breaths heavy as she came to the courtyard. Viserys quickly jogged down and caught her just as her knees gave out, Red Saint falling with a clatter. "Get Maester Mellos!" Viserys shouted, picking her up. (Y/N)'s eyes were heavy as he quickly entered the Red Keep. He wouldn't let her die... not now, not ever...

******

Hope you like it!

[kirain]

What's your personal headcanon for Wyll's ending? 👀

Wyll cuts through his foes like a whirlwind of vengeance. Devils, demons, imps; none of them see him coming until it's too late. Both hands cling to rapiers, one celestial—a gift from Dame Aylin—one demonic, dropped by a general who couldn't match his swiftness. Even without his Warlock powers, Wyll is a force to be reckoned with, and his enemies know it. Alongside Karlach, he carves out a name that becomes feared all through the hells: The Blade of Avernus, Defender of the Innocent.

For two years he and Karlach fight, thinning the numbers, preventing any force from crawling to the surface. There are many close calls, but they have each other's backs, until they finally make it to Zariel's forge. With Karlach free and his promise kept, Wyll returns to Baldur's Gate, where he quickly forms a legion of unique demon hunters sworn to a code most virtuous. A code that favours courage, justice, strategy, and insight. Under his tutelage, students learn to hunt and kill demons, as well as anything that might threaten their city.

And during this time, a woman catches his eye. A lady of High Court, who is all too happy to see the man behind the horns. Together, they expand his creed to other cities, until it becomes recognised far and wide as the Slayer's Ring. For three years he commands this troop, until the death of his father, Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard. A painful loss not only for him, but Baldureans entire. It is then that Wyll realises his true calling. He wasn't ready before; the life of a politician seeming droll and corrupting, but he's ready now. With a heavy heart, he takes up the mantle of his father and leads Baldur's Gate into a bright, enlightened future, leaving the Slayer's Ring in the hands of his most trusted associates.

For a time, he mourns his father. The job of a Grand Duke certainly isn't an easy one, especially in the midst of grief, but sorrow doesn't last forever, as it's often remedied by joy. Not long after his father's passing, Wyll receives news from his Lady. She's pregnant. Together they have a son. Then another. Then another. Adam, Alder, and Cenric. Three spry, healthy boys, zipping through the halls of Wyrm's Rock Fortress. They take after their father in all the best ways, and despite his duties, Wyll showers them with all the love and attention they deserve—just like his father did for him. Raising his own children only makes him revere his late father more. Doing it alone, without a partner, he can only imagine how difficult it must have been, but his father never showed it, and for that he'll always be grateful.

"I vow to give everything to my sons and to my city."

And he does. After a lifetime of travel and adventure, bloodshed and war, misery and companionship, Wyll is happy to settle in the place he once called home. The place he never truly wanted to leave, but circumstance compelled. Though some take quiet issue with his form, those that matter, and the vast majority over, devote themselves to his leadership. He doesn't demand respect, but he earns it in abundance. Though once afraid such power might corrupt him, it never does.

As for his dearest friends—the ones with whom he faced near certain death, the ones who pulled him up at his lowest moments, the ones who fought beside him with grit and loyalty to spare—he sees them often, and he keeps a steady correspondence when fate takes them further. Even in his golden years, when his sons are grown and his reflexes slow with age, they remain in touch, visiting as often as they can to bring a smile to his wrinkled face. It's a busy life, but it's a good life. A fulfilling life. One he can be proud of.

And when his time comes, those same friends are there, by his bedside, giving him the send off he deserves. He leaves as a friend, a father, a husband, a grandfather, and the beloved hero of Baldur's Gate.

[angelthefirst1]

Rick's story from season 1 and Beth's missing filming spoilers from season 5. Are they the same? The answer is Yes!

Looking back at the old filming spoilers from season 5 was a great reminder to me, that much funny business went on during filming at the time.

Many fans were EXTREMELY, even obsessively invested in finding out spoilers for season 5. The huge uptick in interest for spoilers was in large part because of what happened at the end of season 4.

We saw Daryl lose the girl that he (let's be honest) fell in love with.

The ship wars began and both those that loved Beth and Daryl, and those that hated them (the darkness) were obsessed with finding out what was going to happen.

Many fans spent hours at the filing locations just to catch a glimpse of who was there and what was happening.

You can read about the unseen Beth filming spoilers here. And all credit to @bethgreeneishopeunseen for the original sources and archives of these spoilers.

Now we don't know exactly what went on and what was really filmed or not but, I remember following the filming spoilers during that time and then seeing what eventuated onto our screens. Mostly what we saw onscreen matched the filming spoilers extremely accurately.

Except for these spoilers revolving around Beth. So it's really odd overall, and I do think the fans who wrote about these spoilers were actually correct in what they saw filmed, but it was never designed to be seen in season 5.

Looking back at Rick's story and knowing now how they repeat everything, even down to the smallest detail...

It inspired me to look again into Rick from season 1 and how those missing spoilers, and Beth footage could be connected to Rick's season 1 story.

It makes more sense now, than it ever did back then.

So I will go through and compare Rick season 1, to the missing filming spoilers to see if they fit together.

I was quite surprised by what I found...

Firstly, we obviously saw this scene repeated already. 👇

After the hospital, Rick makes his way home on a red bicycle, which he leaves out the front of his house before running into the house, to see if his family is there.

The first missing footage of interest to me, that lines up with Rick's season 1 story, are the houses that Beth was supposedly seen filming at.

The white house and the brick house next door to each other...

Almost all the season 5 characters were seen filming at these locations and 15 eye witnesses say they saw Beth, but no one was able to get a photo as she was hidden as best as possible, and rushed inside very quickly.

If they are repeating Rick's story, which they are, then it's no surprise they picked a house that's visually similar to Rick's own home from season 1. The pillars, the steps, the incline up to the house, the front porch, the window and door placement, and the railings. This is Ricks house. But it's got more Brick.

Beth's brick house made me laugh here, because brick is a combination of Beth and Rick, sorry 😂 anyway...

Rick leaves the red bike out the front of the house, but at Beth's brick house there is the red car with the Sheriff star on the wheel left out the front.

After Rick realises his family is gone, he gets hit in the head by Duane, and Morgan takes him to a neighbors house.

Beth's missing spoilers said that both the two neighboring houses were used in the filming and as i have said in past posts, there will be a convergence of signs when Beth (Jesus) returns. You can read more about how the convergence works here

They are converging Rick's story and all the imagery around it, and that is what is shown in the missing spoilers, everything we saw from season 1 together. Let me explain more below.

I found it interesting there is the visual similarity to the interiors of Beth's houses and the house that Morgan takes Rick to.

Rick wakes in a room with floral wallpaper and decorative hanging light fixtures and white trim.

Now, the black and white picture above, is actually the interior of Beth's White House. Floral wall paper and hanging light fixtures with white trim.

The other house with brick (Beth's brick house), its interior has a very similar paint colour and similar floorboards to the neighboring house Morgan takes Rick to.

While Beth's white house exterior, matches Rick's white exterior house.

So we see two houses in the missing spoilers that combined show the two houses Rick went to in season 1, his own white house and a neighbors house.

But the missing spoilers show one more house was filmed at, and that was this house 👇

A yellow house 🏠 💛 with black roof and black trim.

It's funny because the first picture in this collage below, is the exterior of the neighbors house that Morgan takes Rick to.

Both yellow with black.

This is not a coincidence...

Outside the yellow house is bike and a red car! Convergence, inversion, infinity.

Now, what's even funnier is the spoilers' state that the male seen walking with Tara, was playing the role of a character named "Andrew" Rick/Andrew.

The houses do seem to be repeating Rick's story, and this made me sure the spoilers are actually correct.

But there's more to look at.

Once Rick recovers in the yellow house, he goes back to the police station he worked at to get weapons.

Now I can't help but realise that when Rick was in the hospital, we saw the combination of a hospital plus police officers (Rick and Shane) just like Grady.

Rick goes back to his old police station (aka Grady). Does that mean Beth will go back to Grady? Who knows, but there are other missing spoilers from the hospital that indicated she might have.

Once Rick gets weapons from the station, he drives off in a police car.

One of the spoilers also said Beth was seen driving away from Grady in a police car. Rick was leaving the police station to find his family. Was Beth doing the same? or does she go back to get medical attention or weapons?

Now continuing on with Ricks story, he eventually ends up in Atlanta (Grady for Beth), where he leaves Merle on the roof.

We know Merle cuts his own hand off and goes missing. Daryl was absent at the time and when he found out he was furious and devastated.

I believe this scenario will be repeated with Beth. Merle becomes Beth disappearing with her arm in a cast. You could say her cast, 'hand-cuffs' the wrist.

What if Beth has her cast removed and Daryl finds it, questioning who removed it, and that leads him to try and track Beth down, even if he still thinks she is dead.

Merle steals a van in season 1, and they lose track of him, we don't see or hear about him for a very long time.

We see Rick find his family back at the quarry camp and Lori asks Rick if he wants his wedding ring back, he says yes, and she gives it to him.

Now, follow me here for a second.

What I just talked about above regarding Merle, his hand, him going missing, and the Lori and Rick's reunion with wedding rings, is a convergence of the signs of season 1, all summed up with these behind the scenes photos or clues, that Norman posted at the time of the missing filming spoilers.

The bloody hand with what looks like cut marks where Merle cut his hand off, and the combination of marriage and wedding ring symbolism. Nicotero and Norman are 'brother's'...

Now back in season one Lori takes her wedding ring off when she sleeps with Shane, because she thinks Rick is dead (till death do us part)

While Daryl finds only Merle's hand in season one, it seems these hints about the missing spoilers point to Daryl finding Beth's cast but losing the love of his life. Divorced.

Knowing how they repeat everything, and how Daryl takes Merle's hand when he finds it (same as taking someones hand in marriage), eventually he will ask Beth to marry him, but I think that will be later on not immediately.

We know Merle shows up again around the time when Andrea does, this is interesting to me because, next year we are going to see Rick (Daryl's brother) back in The one's who live, and we will get season two of Daryl Dixon -The book of Carol, which is really the book of Beth.

Andrea/Merle + Beth/Rick showing up at around the same time. hmm.

The last thing I want to discuss is the retirement home missing filming spoilers...

Beth was apparently seen filming at what was thought to be a retirement home.

Now, was it definitely a retirement home? We can't be sure, but it really would make sense, why?

Because Rick went to a "retirement home" in season 1.

Now, to start with Rick doesn't know it's a retirement home, he goes there to trade people. Glenn who was taken, for one of their group.

This is Rick's version of Grady.

Rick in order to get Glenn back, Rick is willing to shoot the place up in a gun fight if he has to.

Now you will notice at Beth's houses, the red car and the brick house have undergone a massive shoot out, with bullet holes everywhere. Was someone trying to get Beth back and did shoot the place up? I would say yes!

The leader of the other group in season 1, wants Rick's guns and wants the trade to include the guns as well as his man.

Rick declines, saying the guns are his. So the leader threatens to feed Glenn to his ferocious dogs, he says to Rick "I'm going to chop up your boy, feed him to my dogs, three of the evilest, nastiest, meanest bitches you ever saw. Picked em up from Satan at a yard sale".

Now the filming spoilers also indicate that a dog was filming at Beth's houses. A Rottweiler named Ozzy, and his doghouse is located in the yard (yard sale) of the Brick house.

The owner of Ozzy said the dog had two scenes in season 5, but he was never seen onscreen.

And a sign placed out the front of the brick house said "Beware of dog".

Now the dogs in Rick's story were not really very scary...

The leader of the group gave a very long-winded, over the top, scary caution about how dangerous his dogs were.

In the missing filming spoilers, the sign with 'Beware the dog" seems to have 'the dog' crossed out. Kind of removing the warning, like it's not a threat.

But If Ozzy did indeed have a part in these missing scenes, which it looks like he did. Then the low key warning on the sign, combined with the over the top warning from season one about how mean the dogs were, when they actually weren't.

Points to Ozzy being extremely vicious.

There's actually a lot more i could add, but this is way to long already.

The overall point of looking back at this, is to show the missing spoilers are all too similar to Rick's story to be a coincidence.

We will eventually see them, and it seems to be right around the corner.

One last thing, the episode where Rick gets a reunion with his family is in 103, and it's called, Tell it to the frogs.

Frogs is another way of talking about the french or french people. Linking a big reunion to France...

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Harry’s life was full of low days.

Since the war with Voldemort ended in a truce, admittedly, those days have lessened. For a while, Harry found himself breathing easier, waking up each morning lighter, sometimes even finding the will to peacefully drift off to sleep at night, not a single nightmare.

Yet always, the low days persisted.

Depression, Hermione had insisted. We should get you a mind healer. They’ll do wonders in helping you talk things out and foster natural coping skills that simply everyone has—

But Harry didn’t want people in his head. Voldemort already had a permanent little home dugout in there; hell, Snape was bad enough when he tried to teach Harry occlumency. There’s no way he’d put himself through anything similar.

So Harry did what he did best when the world became too much; isolated.

There was comfort and torture in his solitude with equal measure. Time was too abstract. Midnight and afternoon blurred until it was simply boiled down to: I’m awake now. He didn’t take visitors but allowed the occasional floo call and owl. He supposed that patronus counted as well since his wards couldn’t deflect them.

But there was only so long Harry could hide away before his status and the demands of the wizarding world came knocking.

Nothing was ever done. His opinion was always needed. And try as Harry might to siphon off responsibilities when people weren’t looking, they’d almost naturally work their way back to him. Like a damn boomerang, or better yet, a homing missile set on destroying Harry with its inevitable return.

He didn’t have the answers they were searching for, or at least never the right ones. And Harry was so used to being a disappointment that by now, he thought these small things wouldn’t get to him like this. Yet they always hurt in new and unexpected ways.

With a sigh, he cast another noise-cancelling spell on the floo, refreshing the old one. Harry was all too grateful that Grimmauld Place only had one connection, given its age and state of disuse. And given Harry’s tendency to lose himself in personal projects, making him forget about the floo entirely. Very handy, that.

It was the perfect place to hole up even if over the years, people had started to realise this was where he scurried away to. Being one of the few Black Ancestral Homes left, its reputation was nothing to laugh at. Unrealistic horror stories about the townhome were told without much levity, completely different from how Sirius had narrated them to Harry.

But not everyone was so foolish as to believe a few tall tales and stay the hell away.

For starters, Hermione, Ron, and all of the other Weasleys definitely didn’t give a rat’s arse about it. Living in the house and cleaning it for almost an entire summer made it lose all of its dreary, potentially murderous charm. So they frequently tried to swing by and only stopped when Harry finally warded the door and stuck a note to it, requesting they give him some time and space.

Honestly, Harry thought the wards weren’t even enough to stop Hermione. Hence the note. He knew she’d respect that, at least. Though it had been a few months since then…maybe six? Which would probably explain the renewed vigour in the frequency of the floo calls. The calls Harry was still ignoring.

Maybe the wards were stronger than he’d thought?

He’s broken from his musing by three sharp raps at the door. The very proper kind, one that used the knocker and everything. No pounding fists and shouts.

Harry started, unconsciously taking a step back. He’d stopped silencing the door after he put up the ward, its barrier just encompassing the front step. So a knock meant someone had finally gotten past it. Speak of the devil, and she shall appear, Harry sighed.

But when Harry opened the door and readied to speak to someone other than Kreacher for the first time in half a year, his words died all too quickly. His mouth hung open, and no sound could escape.

So he stared.

And continued staring.

Until finally—“Might I come in, Harry?” Voldemort asked.

What was one supposed to do if not stupidly nod and hold the door wide open to invite Voldemort in? Because if there were something else that could’ve been done, Harry would like to know. To armour himself for next time.

Next time?

Voldemort swept in like a maelstrom of robes, holding a small bundle of something. He took in the overall look of Grimmauld Place with slight bemusement and remarked, “You’ve changed it.”

In Harry’s defence, six months was a long time, and he ran out of things to do on day three. Tearing apart the stately dreadful everything of Grimmauld Place was the best way to fix that. Kreacher hadn’t been on board for the longest time but eventually caved when Harry had worked himself to magical exhaustion one fraught afternoon expanding the library.

Knowing all of this and the extent to which Harry had gone for it to look even half as acceptable, he could only passionately agree. “Of course. Wouldn’t you?”

And maybe he was asking the wrong person because Voldemort frowned like Harry had made a particularly tasteless joke. “No. There were most likely decades, if not over a century, of history in these halls. Changing it is akin to burning it all down.”

Harry crossed his arms, “Or maybe I’m making my own history. Leaving my own mark and magic on these walls. I doubt a few structural and design changes will really do anything.” Harry scoffed, offended at the implication that he hadn’t treated his home with respect. It also irked him, funnily enough, that Voldemort might not like his preferences. He’d worked fucking hard, dammit.

Voldemort stayed silent, slowly assessing Harry from head to toe and back again. He relented, “I suppose it is… cosy.” It looked like it had physically pained him to say it.

“Whatever,” Harry shook his head. “What are you even doing here?”

Voldemort raised a brow, “Am I not allowed to visit my Horcrux and see if it’s fairing well?” He turned his back to Harry and wandered deeper into the house, poking his nose (and wasn’t that a marvel after so long seeing him without it?) into the newly painted and freshly refinished dining room.

“Uh. No. You are not.” Harry followed after him with a brisk pace, “And I’m not your anything. We’ve talked about this.”

And they had, at length, talked about Voldemort’s odd obsession with Harry’s Horcrux. Because that was what it was: Harry’s. It had been with him longer, literally lived as a part of himself. It would die without Harry, which practically made it a limb. Not that he needed the damn thing…though, it would be very odd to wake up one morning without its silent weight and sharp, jagged lines down his forehead and temple.

It would be even odder to be without the occasional glimpse of Voldemort’s thoughts and feelings that sporadically entered his mind whenever they were loud and forceful enough to make it past his constructed barriers.

Regardless, they’d talked about this. Harry’s Horcrux wasn’t like some pet or kid they had shared custody of. Voldemort couldn’t just drop in unannounced to do welfare checks or whatever insane nonsense thing he deemed reasonable enough. He acted like he’d come over one day to find Harry dead on the floor or holding a basilisk fang to his head—ah, well, that last one might have been truer some years back.

Voldemort only hummed, its vague tone merely implying he’d heard Harry and not that he’d agreed. His steps took him into the parlour and back out into the entry hall. “You’ve not been answering your floo,” he stated and started to make his way up the stairs by the time Harry looped back to him.

“Hey! Hold on a second-!” Harry called after Voldemort, only to watch him ascend to the first floor with little care for anything Harry was spouting.

Incredulous, Harry practically chased Voldemort around his entire home. From the drawing room to the guest bedrooms to the study and, inevitably, the library. Voldemort opened every door he came across—even the cloakroom!—like he wasn’t invading Harry’s personal space and rudely giving himself a tour.

Harry wouldn’t say Voldemort had done so with any decency, but he had stopped once he caught sight of the new library. And even though Harry was miffed and, for some reason, still hesitating on calling upon the wardstone to remove Voldemort forcibly, he was pleased that this room seemed to hold Voldemort’s attention long enough to make him pause.

After all, the library was Harry’s biggest undertaking and still wasn’t actually complete. There were a few nooks he had to sort out, not only for himself but for Hermione and maybe even Luna, for when he’d finally break out of his isolation and let them over. Its deep forest green was a nod to the Black Family’s Slytherin roots which paired nicely with the polished silver hardware on every sconce and metal accent.

The black leather couches could also be an aesthetic choice, but really Harry only picked them because they reminded him of Sirius. And he’d never say that out loud for fear of over-inflating Padfoot’s already abnormally large head.

Voldemort carefully walked through the shelves and trailed his fingers along their fine wood grain. Once he came upon the darker, moodier books with more personality and bite than books ought to have, he stopped and lifted his hand. He was rubbing his fingertips like a mother-in-law looking for dust. “It was once a deep maroon, did you know? Long before Orion and Walburga laid claim to the home. It was Arcturus the second, Orion’s father, who owned the house before him and had married Melania Black née Macmillan, a fiercely ambitious Gryffindor with a soft spot for cursed books.”

Harry watched as Voldemort started perusing the titles; he continued, “Lucretia often spoke about it, her mother’s prized library. Sensible rumours implied the woman was quite depressed after the wedding and requested the colour to adjust better to newly married life.” He turned back to Harry, “The other rumours, not so sensible, spun tales of the Black Family’s Library and spread like a fine duvet. Stories of how the walls were smeared thick with muggle blood and of the dark rituals that were required for the home to maintain its perfectly fresh hue without even a hint of an iron smell in the air. They were told to the younger Slytherins like a ghastly bedtime warning.”

Then Voldemort walked up to Harry—too close—and tilted his head down, his lips just a hairsbreadth away from Harry’s ear, “Between you and I, there may be some merit to them.” His breath tickled the side of Harry’s neck as he huffed a small laugh and stood straight once more. “Or it was all merely a power play by the entire Black Family. At the time, five of them walked Hogwarts’s halls together, and what a clever little tactic to establish superiority and cultivate fear that would’ve been.”

Say what you will about Voldemort, Harry sighed, his arms crossed. He certainly knows how to give a compelling monologue. He was confident he could leave a cardboard cutout of himself here for days, and Voldemort would go on and on and on, none the wiser.

But, Harry couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. It was nice to hear.

“I didn’t know,” Harry replied and took one giant step back. “It was so mouldy in here that the walls were some kind of lumpy grey colour. I tried scraping the gunk off with severing charms, but it was a lost cause.” He shrugged, “They could’ve been red.”

Voldemort’s pleased look fell at Harry’s words. Harry couldn’t blame him. Gunk was not great imagery. No matter how accurate. “Well? Enough about the ‘good ol’ days’, old man. What do you think of my handiwork?”

Harry delighted in Voldemort’s scrunched-up nose. “You insolent child.” With a final glance around the library, he acquiesced, “It is acceptable.”

“High praise from the mighty Dark Lord,” sarcasm dripped from Harry’s tone. His thoughts shifted when he suddenly remembered, “And how did you know I haven’t been answering my floo?”

Voldemort looked very unimpressed, “Naturally, I tried to use your floo address and was promptly rejected. Your muggleborn friend seemed up in arms, ready to storm the castle if you will, because she hadn’t been able to breach the wards you erected.”

“What? When was this?” Harry couldn’t believe he’d somehow managed to block Voldemort’s floo access. Thank Merlin.

“That doesn’t matter,” Voldemort quickly sidestepped Harry’s question. “What matters is the amount of torment I’ve been subjected to because of your sudden disappearance for months on end.”

Voldemort was quiet for a moment. “And Granger mentioned you may be depressed.”

That previous shock, the one Harry had found himself in when he’d opened the door to Voldemort and his new pretty face and stupid nice hair, came flooding back. Harry’s body slumped with the surprise, arms uncrossing, utterly at a loss for words.

“I’m…” Harry tried to start, but Voldemort cleared his throat and talked over him, “It turns out she’s just ignorant. Had she gone through any of the books the ministry has falsely labelled ‘dark’, she would have found the counter to your wards much sooner. Wherever did you find the rune work?”

“She’s not ignorant,” Harry frowned. Hackles raised and surprise forgotten, “And take a wild guess.” He gestured to the room at large.

“Ah,” Voldemort stiffened. And though his awkward face tickled Harry’s satisfaction, Harry could feel Voldemort’s overwhelming relief leaking through their bond—Harry didn’t know how being made a fool could be relieving in any way.

Then Voldemort’s hand raised, and Harry watched as his leather lounges grew autonomous and walked closer together, a small glass-top table conjured between them. Voldemort did this, and Harry’s eye caught sight again of the small bundle he’d staunchly held since entering the townhome. He watched as Voldemort placed it on the table and gently tapped the cloth with his wand to reveal a warm, freshly baked treacle tart.

Like whiplash, that stomach-swooping surprise hit Harry again.

The evening sunset through the tall stained-glass windows of the library cast a golden glow on Voldemort’s features, and the silver-sconced candlelight flickered in the deep muddy red of his eyes, making them sparkle like garnets.

If that was the colour Melania Black had requested, Harry thought with substantial awe; I could see the appeal.

“Your favourite, I’m told,” Voldemort carried on like he hadn’t just done something incredibly thoughtful and considerate for what was no doubt the first time in his life.

It dawned on Harry just how lonely he’d been, isolated for this long with no one able to pull him out. The words slipped from his mouth uninhibited, “I…Thank you, Voldemort. I didn’t realise how badly I wanted to see a friendly face.”

The second wave, stronger and dizzying, of surprise, wasn’t Harry’s own. And he could see, now that Voldemort was in front of him and Harry knew to look, that surprise on Voldemort. “You think my face is friendly?”

Blinking rapidly, Harry responded with an inelegant, “Um…well….”

“That’s a shame,” Voldemort continued. A hint of something—laughter?—creased in the lines of his eyes and smirk, “I’d prefer intimidating. Or awe-inspiring. ‘Friendly’ isn’t the kind of face a Dark Lord should have.”

That might be so; Harry couldn’t suppress the fond smile that tugged at his lips and the way his shoulders relaxed, sinking with the thaw of his isolation. But—

“I think your face is just right.”

[architect-2015]

Lo’u alofa, you are my family.

(there might be some rambling because I tried to copy the segment word for word because I didn't want to mess up the storyline)

Kailani and Roman have been together for years, having met in NXT and been brought up to the main roster around the same time she’s been there for it all.  As both a wrestler and his wife she respects what he's had to over come in both his personal life and his professional career. The downfall of The Shield, the failed babyface push, his real-life health issues and then his return in remission. 

While they both have had struggles during their time on the main roster, the wait was definitely worth it, the married couple are currently part of the most dominant faction in the modern era, The Bloodline. 

Since September 2022 things have been expanding within the group, Sami Zayn had previously been associating himself within the family had finally earned a position in the faction as the ‘Honorary Uce’.  On November 26th he further proved his loyalty in a Survivor Series War Games match against The Brawling Brutes, Drew Mcintyre and Kevin Owens, but Owens would continue to be a thorn in the side of The Bloodline.

---

RAW AFTER WARGAMES

“On Saturday we went to war at Wargames right, you see who was left standing tall” The members of The Bloodline raises the ones with the crowd reflecting the action, a sea of acknowledgment swept over the Scope Arena.

The segment continued with Sami expressing his gratitude toward Jimmy for being his friend since day one, then he moves onto Jey a sentimental moment was shared between the two before the Prize-fighter decided to interfere.

“I’m not here to fight you Sami, its actually quite the opposite. You see since Saturday I - uh I cant help but think about how for twenty years now, twenty years ouR careers have been linked to one another’s but - uh man after Saturday I don't wanna fight you, I don't wanna team with you, I don't wanna ride to shows together, I'm just done I don't want anything to do with you.” 

A taken back look overwhelms Sami's face but it settled to a look of disgust.

“You know what pal I feel exactly the same way, I don't ever wanna team with you again, I don't wanna fight you again I'm okay if I'm never in the same room as you again do you understand me? because I don't need you anymore! I have family now.”

Pride swells in Kailani's chest as she moves to place a hand on Sami’s shoulder, the two of them had grown quite close some could even say become best friends. She was proud in the fact he let go, he let go of all the people in his past who had held him back. Kevin being the last piece of baggage.

But KO still wasn't done, he had more harsh realities to expose, had he only thought before he spoke and realised the weight of his words. 

“Yeah you know what I'm genuinely happy for you with everything that's been going on for you the past few months because finally everybody out here, everybody in the WWE universe can finally see how great Sami Zayn is. I’ve known it for twenty years and to see you get the recognition you deserve. I love it but Sami here's the thing, doesn't matter how many times they tell you you're in The Bloodline and it doesn't matter how many time you call them family just remember this... You’re not their real blood and you never will be”

Lani loosens her grip on her friends shoulder, taking a step back she feels her back collide with the chest of her husband’s cousin, Jimmy Uso. Looking back towards the man she is met by a looks of concern his hands envelop her waist seemingly keeping her upright, the family knowing how she values herself lower then them because she is an Anoa’i by love not blood. No longer wanting to be in the ring and needing to create space from the overbearing tension she shakes off the hold and swiftly slides under the bottom rope letting her red shoes hit the floor. 

Choosing to make her exit by the crowd to prevent passing a certain Canadian blocking the gorilla entrance, feeling thousands of eyes follow her every move Kailani is stumbling around grabbing onto anything she can as support knowing that she's showing a vulnerability. A weakness. The Bloodline aren't weak, but Lani is. 

---

What she doesn't know is that an enraged Tribal Chief is barrelling through the backstage area, old wounds in his family that had just been fixed has been re opened all because of ten words. 

You’re not their real blood and you never will be.

You’re not their real blood and you never will be.

You’re not their real blood and you never will be.

You’re not their real blood and you never will be.

You’re not their real blood and you never will be.

Those ten word had broke the illusion of Kailani Anoa’i, the wife of the tribal chief Roman Reigns, the leader of the bloodline, Joe Anoa’i, the love of her life, the provider of the family. 

Her family.

---

Blindly walking around backstage trying to compose herself she hears a voice shout something incoherent, two gentle hands hold her shaking ones in theirs stroking over her wedding ring, the wedding ring that matches with the one adorning the hands grasping hers.

Looking up the eyes of her husband stare down at her, distress swirling behind the eyes she fell in love with, a sob ripped through the silence all the buried emotions finally overflow, the insecurities harboured by the young women being displayed to her spouse. Roman carefully took Lani into his chest placing his hand on the back of her head knowing that this action makes her feel safe, he begins muttering words of comfort and reassurance.

 “o lo'u toalua lelei (my sweet wife), what's wrong. Why are you crying? Is it what Kevin said?”

Not being able to string a response she simply nods her head, focusing on the breathing of the man embracing her. 

breathe in, breathe out.

“ Lo’u alofa, you are my family. How my life would be without you, I couldn't bear it. Our love runs through my blood, my mind and my soul.”

After hearing those words Kailani lifts her head from Romans chest to meet his gaze, the same gaze that holds so much warmth and passion. Reaching up she clasps her hands around his neck pulling his forehead down to meet hers. A delicate kiss is placed upon her lips. Relishing in the moment she realises he was right, while she might not be an Anoa’i by blood relation she still had a rightful part in the family.

----

The power of love is undeniably true, it can unite two hearts as one, its for this reason that bloodlines are built on unbreakable bonds created by love, and while blood is thicker than water without love coursing through it would be meaningless.

----

(i dont think this was that good tbh but oh well)

@strawberry-moonpies​

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

The Mission Bolin x Reader Series: Part Four

You return to Republic City and don’t recieve the warmest welcome but manage to prove to everyone where your loyalties lie...but can you show this to Bolin?

Previous Parts: One, Two and Three.

___________

When you got back to Republic City you could’ve easily slunk away and buried your head in the sand but you didn’t. You went right to the council and shared with them everything you knew. You told them you’d accept any punishment they thought fair but asked you be allowed to help in the time being. Obviously they were all very wary of you but Varrick vouched for you. “She’s on our side now we promise! Kuvira was intimidating her as much as she was everyone else but Y/n stood up for us and is a very big part of why we're still here”. Varrick’s word didn’t seem to be doing much good though, which was understandable considering his past, so you stepped forwards ready to argue your case when Bolin beat you to it. “Varrick’s right. Y/n helped get us here and stood up to Kuvira for us...she can be trusted and she has invaluable knowledge. We’re going to need her to stop this”. Mako’s brother and the Avatar both nodded, convinced by Bolin’s world and that persuaded Tenzin and the others. “Fine!” Raiko nodded “you can help but we’ll be watching you like a hawk and the second you falter you’ll be locked away forever”. You nodded “I won’t let you down”. 

You hoped to catch Bolin after the meeting but Raiko grilled you for hours to get information about Kuvira and when you left Bolin was nowhere to be seen. The next day you found Mako, Bolin’s brother and asked if he knew where Bolin was staying. He directed you to Air Temple Island and you made your way there a bundle of nerves. You found Bolin outside playing with Pabu and smiled to see he seemed back to normal...or he did until he looked up and saw you. Oblivious, Pabu ran over to say hello before Bolin could intercept him. You stroked Pabu happily and Bolin stood up, coming towards you hesitantly. “Hey” you said softly “I’m really sorry to drop in on you like this but with the war coming I figured sooner would be better. Can we please talk?" you asked. Bolin sighed "i guess I can’t avoid it forever...let's go this way" and he led you to a private part of the island overlooking the ocean. You nodded and followed him in silence. Once you were sat down Bolin frowned "so...do you want to take the lead?". You nodded and took a breath. “I just wanted to apologise again for everything I did to you and give you a chance to ask any questions...I’m so sorry for everything Bolin and I know the journey here hasn’t solved anything. Is there anything you want to say to me?”. "Was it all just a game?" Bolin asked and you had a feeling this had been on his mind for a while. "Being nice to be, laughing with me, flirting with me...the whole time you were only speaking to me because she told you to right? Would you even have given me the time of day if she hadn't commanded you to?" Bolin asked. You nodded "of course I would have! Initially I did it because she told me to but after our first meeting I realised I enjoyed being around you and it stopped being a secret mission but something I wanted to do. I liked being around you Bolin, I would’ve acted the same way I promise". Bolin sighed "well unsurprising I don’t believe you" and he looked away upset. "Of course I want to believe you. I want to think you did care for me and like me but how can I even begin to trust you?" he pointed out. It was a very good question and one you didn’t have the answer to. You sighed "I don’t know" you replied honestly "I've hurt you in an awful way and I don’t know how I can ever do enough to repair that. To make you feel safe around me again but I promise I'm not going to quit until I do it. I'm not going to stop trying even if you lose interest or hate me. I will never stop trying to repay the damage I did because you mean a lot to me Bolin. While it wasn’t genuine at first it didn’t take long before it started being and by the end I’d really fallen for you. I know that ship has probably sailed for us forever but all I want is to get your friendship back. No matter how much work it takes". Bolin nodded "okay. I can’t promise anything but I also won’t tell you it’s impossible". You nodded to him "that’s more than I could’ve hoped for, thank you". Bolin nodded and walked away.

You heard Opal was in town the following day and figured she deserved an apology as well. You made your way to Lin Beifong’s apartment where Opal was staying and knocked twice. You were sure this wasn’t going to be pleasant and that was before you told her what you’d done to her and Bolin’s relationship. But still you wanted to wash away everything you'd done for your sister and the first step was being honest. So you’d deal with this and then you could move on.

The door opened and Opal appeared. "What do you want?" she asked. Great start, she hated you already. You winced and tried to look non-threatening. "I was hoping we could talk?" you asked. "Funny you two even think alike now" she replied and you paused "me and who?". "Bolin” she said and Opal moved back to reveal the living room where Bolin was sat awkwardly. He met your eye and you looked away "sorry I didn’t realise he was here...i’ll come back later". "No why don’t you stay?" Opal asked her voice dripping with anger "Bolin was just explaining how he broke up with me for you and I'd love to hear your side of things". You winced but Opal held the door open very menacingly for an airbender. You walked inside and sat in the only available chair which was next to Bolin. "So" Opal said standing in front of you both "carry on Bolin". Bolin coughed "so after we broke up I went to Y/n and I...we kissed". "The same night I left, right?" Opal asked. Bolin nodded "yes". "And you thought that was okay because...?". Bolin sighed "I knew it wasn’t but I hadn't seen you in so long and every time we did it was so tense. Things with Y/n had been building for a while and I was so emotional after our breakup it all just kind of burst out". Opal raised an eyebrow "so you're blaming me?". Bolin immediately denied that and went to explain himself when you stepped in. "Haven’t you told her what I did?". Bolin shook his head "I was getting to that part". You turned to her "Opal none of this was Bolin’s fault. Kuvira calculated it. She made a plan to have Bolin fall for me and I...I helped her. I seduced him and encouraged him to break up with you. I made myself seem like the better alternative and helped orchestrate the whole thing so if you want to be angry at anyone it should be me". Opal shook her head "you're acting like you twisted his arm behind his back and forced him to fall for you. Whether you encouraged it or not you didn't force him to do anything. You didn’t make him separate from me or make him kiss you. From what I've heard you actually stopped that. Bolin fell for you because he liked you" she said "and for me that's the ultimate betrayal because if he’d really have liked me and had no feelings for you to begin with then this would have never happened". "Opal please" Bolin cried as you said "let me explain it better" but she’d had enough. "No I'm done. You both said you wanted to explain and you did so get out. Bolin it’s over, stop blaming Y/n for your own actions and take responsibility. Y/n...well all the apologies in the world won’t resolve what you've done but I think I have an idea of how you can start". You frowned "how?". "You're going to help me break my family out of Kuvira’s prison".

All things considered risking your life to save Opal’s family who had been imprisoned by your sister, the one you helped takeover their home, seemed fair. So you agreed. Bolin had protested, claiming Opal shouldn’t just punish you but him too. That honestly hadn’t helped things and so you rode to the prison in a very stormy silence. Lin was smart enough not to get involved and stayed quiet. 

Once you got there you were soon joined by Toph and broke into the prison. The Beifongs were literally tossed to freedom and only when you got outside of the cell undetected did they all turn to you. "Y/n?" Su yin asked the first chance she got. "You came back to us?" Wei asked a smile on his face and you felt like crying. "No" Opal’s voice rang out "she was working against us the whole time. She’s only here because Kuvira made her go against Bolin and that was too much for her. Not us". The Beifongs all frowned and you hung your head, aware there were no words in the world you could say to make up for what you’d done to your real family. "Still..." Huan said suddenly "she’s here rescuing us and where’s Bataar? Our actual flesh and blood". You looked up to see the others were slowly nodding. Suyin smiled and stepped towards you "regardless I'm happy you're here and you're safe" she said offering you a hand “if you’re willing to make this first step then so are we”. You took one look at her kind face and burst into tears. "I'm so sorry! For everything" you sobbed and Su cradled you in her arms. "It's okay" she soothed and you finally felt safe. Opal understandably wasn’t happy but the others all forgave you. You explained why Opal hated you and how it was justified. The others all just replied she’d forgive you eventually and you felt so happy to have your family back. You were always closest to the twins and found yourself staying with them on the way back to Republic City. "So..." Wei asked "where did you and Bolin leave things?". You swallowed "I told him that I'd always care for him as more but I'd never stop trying to win his friendship back". You expected the twins to judge you for saying that to their little sister’s ex-boyfriend but they just nodded. "That seems fair" Wing nodded and you stared "how are you all not yelling at me?". Wei smiled softly "Y/n you may not be a Beifong by blood but you do realise we grew up as together right? To us you're family. So is Kuvira too and anything you've done doesn’t really matter now you've said sorry and are trying to put it right. We love you and we support you. Opal and Bolin were on the outs before you even got involved but he’s a nice guy. If you have something with him then we say go for it". "Really?" You asked tears in your eyes and Wei nodded "yes". “You’re the best brothers ever” you replied and the twins grinned to hear you finally call them that. 

When the final battle came you fought in it side by side with your earth bender family. You brought Kuvira’s giant mecha suit down and then Kuvira herself. Bolin got to the new spirit portal just in time to see Korra emerge with Kuvira. Bolin spotted you across the field and you were staring frozen as Lin and Su clamped handcuffs around your sister’s wrists and everyone celebrated. Bolin watched you warily and felt a pang of sadness. No matter what you’d done he still cared about you and seeing you upset made him sad. He went to step towards you when a twin appeared on either side of you. Wei touched your arm tentatively and you turned and buried your head against him crying. Wing joined the hug and Bolin was pleased to see atleast you’d reconnected with your family. Not wanting to ruin the moment Bolin walked away.

1 year later

After the battle you were pardoned by Raiko due to your help taking down Kuvira and so you didn’t serve any jail time. However you didn’t return to Zafou after the battle. Kuvira had done a lot of damage to Republic City, hundreds injured, thousands displaced and so many homes utterly destroyed. So, you decided to do something about it. 

Bolin witnessed the whole thing and saw first hand the stroke of genius ran in Kuvira’s bloodline family. You became lead of the restoration efforts and everyone soon forgot who's sister you were once your intentions became clear. The Beifong’s were a golden support system and Bolin saw even you and Opal were friends again which was nice. Opal had also told him she’d forgiven him and they were friends again but he knew that was all it would be with her. With you however that was a different story. Bolin still liked you. He knew it was stupid, most people would never consider going back to someone who did what you’d done but he couldn’t deny how he felt. Not to mention everything you’d said turned out to be true and he saw the changes you’d made to become a better person. You weren’t the same person as before and neither was he. But that didn’t make telling you any less scary. Bolin finally decided to do it one day after he spent the whole week watching you help refugees get rehabilitated. He knew he had to tell you or move on and he chose the former. Bolin could always find you around city hall these days so he headed there and soon enough he spotted you walking down a hallway. "Y/n" he called and you stopped looking around. You smiled when you saw him and walked over "Bolin! How are you? Is everything okay?". Bolin nodded "I’m good thanks and everything is great. I was just wondering if I could talk to you? What time do you finish up here?". You seemed surprised but quickly recovered "I actually finish in an hour, there’s a great coffee shop around your corner if you’d like to go there?". Bolin nodded "sounds great! I'll meet you at the main entrance in an hour".

It was raining when Bolin got to the coffee shop so he went inside and found a table. He sat facing the door, which turned out to be a bad thing as every time it opened his heart sped up and he panicked before realising it wasn’t you. Finally, after many false calls you arrived. Bolin froze as you stood there in the doorway and he felt his palms sweat and his cheeks flush at what he was about to do. He was excited but also terrified. You’d said you would always care for him as a friend and as more but what if that had changed in the year that had passed? What if he’d missed his chance and the two of you would never get your opportunity to be a couple? “Bolin?” you called having located him and Bolin jumped up “y/n hey! Thanks for coming”. You smiled sitting down “no problem, so...how can I help? If it’s about those building permits please tell President Zhu Li I’m getting the zoning board to work as fast as possible...”. “No it’s not work-related it’s about...us”. “Ow...” you said and your whole body language changed “okay, what do you want to discuss?”. 

Bolin took a deep breath “well first of all I wanted to tell you I’ve noticed all the good things you’ve done this past year and how you’ve been trying to reduce the damage Kuvira caused and I truly believe you’re a good person. I’ve forgiven you for what happened between us”. Your face lit up in surprise and you smiled shocked “really? Bolin that’s amazing! Thank you so much”. Bolin smiled “it’s nothing, it felt right so thanks for not giving up I guess”. “Totally worth it” you grinned and Bolin blushed ”also one more thing...I wondered if things have changed at all for you? Before you mentioned you would always care for me as more than a friend but were happy just being friends, is that still true”. You paused looking down “yes my feelings haven’t changed. I think I’ll always like you but I respect your feelings and promise never to try anything with you...is that what you were worried about?”. Bolin shook his head “no more the opposite, Y/n I still like you too and all this time I was unsure if I could trust you but like I just said I know I can now and so I wondered if you’d maybe like to go on a date with me?”. Your face split into an even more surprised expression and Bolin had never seen your eyes so wide before. You spluttered in shock “I’m...of course I would! Sorry i’m just lost for words because I thought I’d royally screwed this up so to hear you say this, I can’t believe how lucky I am”. Bolin blushed, in all his relationships he was usually the one providing all the security and compliments and it was nice to have someone else share that. “Well I feel pretty lucky too, none of my past partners have gone to the amount of effort you have to show me they care. You make me feel wanted and I like that”. You blushed but didn’t look away “I do want you Bolin, so not to sound eager but when are you free for that date because I’d love to take you out and make you feel even more special”. Bolin was so flushed he felt several degrees warmer and he smiled “how’s Friday night?”. “It’s a date” you grinned and Bolin smiled “great...” and he tentatively reached across the table to take your hand. Your drinks arrived seconds later and you smiled holding yours up “a toast, may our future be a lot less complicated and happier than our past”. Bolin nodded “to our future” and clinked your glass. You had a good feeling about this and couldn’t wait to see what your future had in store. 

You always used to fear the future but now, with Bolin back in your life you were ready for it. 

Bring it on. 

_________

Bolin is the bestest boy! 

I never really warmed to him and Opal as a couple because it just felt forced to me, like they were both single and nice people so they got smushed together. I wish they’d given him a more romantic fun partnership like Korra x Asami and Mako x Wu (yes they’re together in my mind). Even the way they got together felt quite convenient and not really that special or fun. All I’m saying is Bolin and Opal both deserve better! 

[the-al-chemist]

The Lights That Never Go Out

Chapter 2: And There You Were

A/N: Things take a scary turn when Charlie and Artemis go looking for Christmas decorations. This chapter matches @thethreebroomsticksfic’s Yule Bash prompt ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’.

Warnings: discussion about survivor’s guilt and PTSD

5th December, 1998

Charlie had always liked doing things by hand. There was something to be said about doing things the hard way, the Muggle way. He had made a point of learning to put up a tent without magic, to fix his own clothes with a needle and thread, and to make necklaces with hand-carved wooden pendants. In doing so, he had developed rough fingertips, a lot of patience, and a sense of unmatched satisfaction at seeing his finished work.

He found that keeping his hands busy kept his mind at ease. After the war ended and the funerals of those he had loved and lost — Tonks and Fred being the two that most affected him — he had quickly attempted to return to work. His work had sent him home. He needed time, his boss had told him. Time to heal, time to be. Charlie had disagreed, but his arguments had been dismissed.

He didn’t need time. He didn’t need to be, he needed to do.

That was how he had ended up with his current project: rebuilding his parents’ house. It was a project that was taking longer than he anticipated, even with the help of his younger brothers. Having never renovated a house before, Charlie had no idea how much he had taken on until it was too late. He had wanted it finished by Christmas, but had realised in October that he would either need to rethink his schedule or resort to doing everything by magic. He had chosen the former.

Now, at the start of December, the Burrow was still nowhere near to being the perfectly imperfect home Charlie remembered from his childhood, but that didn’t matter. Much of the house had originally been built by magic, and so he had needed to use magic to reconstruct its skeleton, but he had promised himself that he would do everything he could by hand, and he had stuck to his promise.

It was now a case of making sure that the Burrow would be Christmas-worthy in the next two weeks. It had been Artemis who had suggested to him that no one would even look at the unfinished parts if there were enough decorations up to distract people from them.

“It’s called a missed erection,” she had informed him, with the utmost confidence in her convictions.

She had made a good enough point that Charlie hadn’t bothered to correct her on her mistake. The following day, the two of them had ended up venturing into Diagon Alley, the key to Charlie’s brothers’ old shop tucked into the back pocket of Artemis’ jeans.

“George still hasn’t been back here?” Artemis asked quietly as she unlocked the door and they entered the eerily quiet Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. She closed the door behind her, and immediately opened one of the windows.

Charlie shook his head. He didn’t think anyone had been in here since the shop had been forced to close, not even Verity the former shopgirl, who he had met for the first time at Fred’s funeral.

“George said there are a load of decorations in the storeroom,” said Charlie, before his thoughts could get away from him and linger on memories of the day they had buried his little brother. “Let’s go and have a look.”

The storeroom was enormous, and filled with shelves upon shelves of unsold stock and cardboard boxes. It was hard to know where to begin to search, but without even needing to voice a plan, he and Artemis lit their wands and crossed to opposite ends of the room.

Charlie made his way along shelves at the rightmost end of the storeroom, using his wandlight to illuminate each and every box he could find. At the end of the shelves stood an upright cupboard with doors. Charlie tried to open it. It was locked.

“Artie?” he called out, looking at the keyhole and handle. “There wasn’t a second key, was there? Smaller than the one for the main door, possibly made of brass?”

“No. Why?”

“Never mind.” Charlie pointed his wand at the door. “Alohamora.” The door clicked quietly, and Charlie reached out to open it with his spare hand. “I wonder what he’s done with…”

His sentence hung unfinished in the air. It was not the only thing that hung there.

Hovering in front of Charlie’s face was a mass of green and grey smoke, which began to twist and contort itself into the shape of a skull. Slowly, the skull’s mouth opened, and from it a shadowy snake slid towards him.

Charlie’s hands fell to his sides, completely slack, and he dropped his wand. As it hit the floor at his feet, it deluminated, plunging him into darkness. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he could hear someone calling out his name, but he could barely hear it over the sound of his own pulse hammering away in his ears.

“Charlie?”

He felt a soft pressure on his shoulder, but he did not look to see what it was. He could look nowhere but at the shadow-skull, the smoke-snake, the greenish glow that made tears sting his eyes and his stomach churn.

The pressure on his shoulder became a tug at his arm which grew stronger with each pull. When he stumbled backwards, his eye contact was broken, and so too was the floating skull’s trance. He turned to see Artemis at his side, her fingers gripping his upper arm.

“Come on,” she said. “This way, come on.”

Charlie was in no mood to put up a fight. He felt far too weak for that. He had barely made it out of the storeroom before his legs were unable to support his weight, and he had to lean against one of the shop walls. Artemis placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down the wall until he was sitting on the floor with his back against it. She crouched down in front of him.

“It’s fine, Charlie. It was just a Boggart, it can’t hurt you. Look.” Charlie didn’t look, but he heard the storeroom door slam closed. “It can’t get out now. You’ll be okay. Just stay there, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that, she was gone. Charlie didn’t even see her leave, but he knew that he was alone, sitting on the floor, a closed door between him and the… Could it really be a Boggart? He had never known a Boggart to look like that before.

He put his head into his hands, running them from his chin and up into his hair, which he pushed back from his face. He took a shaky breath and exhaled, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the ceiling.

A little bell rang, and he opened his eyes to see Artemis re-enter the shop. In her hands was a bar of chocolate. She sat down beside his feet facing him, and held out the chocolate bar to him.

“Here,” she said. “Eat this, it will help.”

Charlie shook his head. “That’s for Dementors, not Boggarts.”

“You gave me chocolate once when I saw a Boggart.”

“I was just improvising.”

“Well, so am I. Eat it.”

It was clear from the stubborn look on Artemis’ face that she was not going to take no for an answer. Not wishing to be force-fed, Charlie reached out and took the chocolate from her and bit into it. He had not been expecting it to do anything, but at the sweet taste and creamy texture, he felt his heart slow ever so slightly, and the tightness in his chest started to ease. Artemis had one hand on his forehead.

“You feel clammy,” she informed him, “but you look less pale now.” She removed her hand and looked at him with narrowed eyes. Charlie felt as if he were being scrutinised closely. “Has your Boggart changed since you last saw it?”

Charlie closed his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m not using Legilimency on you.”

“You are.”

“Not deliberately.” Charlie glanced at Artemis, who had leant back slightly and had a less searching look in her eyes. She nodded her head at the door. “Just then, you didn’t just look scared, you looked surprised, too.”

“Well, you don’t exactly expect a Boggart to be in a joke shop, do you?”

“You know what I mean. You looked how I felt after my Boggart changed, and I know you must’ve seen a Boggart before at school, so…”

“Yeah, alright.” Charlie gave in. He shrugged. “Yeah. It’s different to what it was when I last saw a Boggart. I mean, that was back at school, so I’m not sure when it changed to… to that. To the Dark Mark.”

He heard his own voice shake as he said the words, and took another bite of chocolate. It had less of an effect this time. Artemis’ hands were in her lap, her head nodding slowly.

“This summer, maybe,” she suggested.

“Yeah, some point last year would make sense.” Even as he agreed, Charlie knew that it was wrong. “Or even before, maybe. The World Cup.”

“When it went up over the crowds during the riots?”

That was it exactly. Charlie shuddered at the memory, even now.

“Do you remember when we were little,” he said to Artemis, “how adults would always talk about people who’d gone missing or been killed by Death Eaters?”

“When they thought we couldn’t hear them, you mean?”

“Exactly. But we always heard them, right? And the story would always be the same, someone would leave their house and come home, or go to someone else’s house, and find the Dark Mark over it. They were such scary stories, but they were just stories. But then, that night…”

“It was real,” Artemis finished his sentence for him.

“It was real, and it was terrifying. It was the most scared I’d ever been, at that point in my life, anyway. I remember when it went up, Dad and the twins and Ron and Ginny, they were all off somewhere trying to keep out of the action, and I…” Charlie swallowed before continuing, “That was the first time I ever worried someone I cared about might have just died. I’d known people who had died, obviously, like my uncles and Rowan, but I hadn’t been scared for them at the time, if that makes sense.”

Artemis’ eyes were wide and sympathetic. “It does. It makes a lot of sense.”

“I’ve felt like that so many times since then, and it never gets any easier. During the war, every time I opened a letter or went home, I’d be so scared about what I’d find.” Charlie placed his half-eaten chocolate on the floor. Speaking was making him feel better than eating had done. “I’d worry that the letter would contain bad news, or that I’d get back and everyone would be gone, and there would just be the Dark Mark, there, hanging in the sky just like…”

As his voice tailed off, Charlie screwed his eyes shut and rested the back of his head on the wall behind him. Artemis didn’t speak. It were as if she were expecting him to continue, but Charlie didn’t feel able to continue.

“Like that Boggart?” she asked him eventually, and he shook his head. A few moments later, Artemis let out a soft sigh. “At Hogwarts. At the battle, it was over the castle that night,” she said with a tone of realisation. “Oh, Charlie. That must have been horrible.”

“It was,” said Charlie, his eyes finally opening as he felt Artemis’ hand squeeze his own. “I… Actually, no.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing, not when pretty much everyone else went through much worse than me.”

“Just because other people had bad stuff happen to them, it doesn’t make the stuff that’s happened to you less bad, Charlie,” Artemis told him.

Charlie was not sure that he agreed. He took his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. Artemis fell quiet for a few moments.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “what was your Boggart before?”

He didn’t mind her asking.

“A Howler.”

It seemed a silly, trivial thing to have as a Boggart these days, but Artemis didn’t laugh. She raised her eyebrows, almost conspiratorially.

“Who from?”

“Everyone,” said Charlie. “Mum, Dad, Bill, Professor McGonagall, all the other teachers. All of them saying that I’d let them down and failed them and disappointed them. That I hadn’t been good enough or done well enough, that kind of thing. I know—”

“It’s not stupid, Charlie,” Artemis interrupted. “It’s not stupid at all.”

“No, I guess it isn’t.” Charlie was stuck by a small epiphany, though it was not one that made him feel any better about the situation. “I mean, I have let people down. It’s just now there are worse things than people being disappointed by me failing them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the people I’ve let down are dead, aren’t they?”

The words came out harsher than he had intended, but Artemis didn’t even flinch. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Charlie,” she said quietly. “You didn’t let anyone down.”

But that simply wasn’t true.

“I did. I did let people down. I let Tonks down. I let Fred down.”

“How?”

“I wasn’t there.”

“You were,” Artemis told him. Charlie shook his head. “You got there as soon as you could.”

“That wasn’t good enough, was it?” Before Artemis could contradict him, Charlie continued, “I was too late to protect them, and I should have protected them. I should have been there. I mean, Fred was my little brother, for Godric’s sake! What kind of older brother doesn’t…”

Charlie stopped mid-sentence. He was tiptoeing around a dangerous topic for Artemis. His eyes drifted out of the open shop window to the street outside. Diagon Alley was bustling, presumably full of witches and wizards buying gifts and supplies for Christmas. Were they going to be celebrating without loved ones this year? Were any of them plagued with feelings of guilt and inadequacy?

“You know what the worst part is?” murmured Charlie. “I didn’t even realise.”

He wasn’t sure that he had spoken loudly enough for Artemis to have heard him, but she answered him: “Realise what?”

“Fred. When I got to the castle, the first thing I did was look to see who was safe and still there fighting. I went in and I made sure I could see Mum and Dad, and Ginny and my brothers and… I thought I saw the twins, but I didn’t, I just saw George. In my head that meant that they were both there, that they were both safe, but he was already gone. And I didn’t even notice.”

He had never told anyone that before. He had thought that he never would tell anyone, not even Artemis.

“Please don’t tell anyone I told you that,” he added, and his peripheral vision, he saw Artemis shake her dark-haired head.

“I won’t. Promise.”

“I don’t want people to judge or think badly of me. More than they already do, anyway.”

“No one thinks badly of you,” said Artemis. There was a genuine note of surprise in her voice. “Why would they?”

Why would they not, Charlie wanted to ask her, but he didn’t. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno, probably because I’ve spent the whole war safe and cosy in Romania while they were fighting,” he said. “Because I didn’t do enough, or care enough, and I wasn’t there when it mattered.”

“That’s just not true,” Artemis replied. “You were there when it mattered for me. You managed to help me at the battle, weren’t you?” Her eyes met Charlie’s for a brief moment before they both looked away. Her cheeks had turned a slightly pink colour. “And you did do things to help from where you were, like getting allies and stuff.”

“The easy stuff.”

“Easy for you, because you’re good at making people like you. Really good at it.” The corners of Artemis’ mouth began to twitch. “And you did something no one else could’ve done.”

“What’s that?”

“You looked after Fergus for me.”

“Anyone could’ve done that, Artie.”

“They couldn’t, because I wouldn’t have let anyone else but you do it.”

Charlie didn’t have it in him to return the smile Artemis was giving him. It disappeared from her face as quickly as it appeared.

“Charlie, look here. Look at me.”

He felt one of her hands rest on his cheek, soft and cool, and he did as she instructed. The look on her face was resolute as she held his gaze and told him:

“Everyone you care about knows that you’d do anything for them. And that’s a lot of people, because you care about almost everyone. And anyone else… Well, who cares what they think? They can think what they like, they can judge you whatever, because they don’t matter. The people who do matter won’t judge you or think badly of you. They don’t. I don’t.”

“I know you don’t,” said Charlie. He meant it.

Apparently happy with his response, Artemis retreated from him. Charlie picked the chocolate bar up again. He snapped the remnants of it in half, and handed one of the halves to her.

“I do feel bad, you know, telling you about my problems when I know people like you have had it worse,” he said.

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

Charlie looked at her carefully before telling her, “I don’t think that you’re fine.”

“I didn’t say I’m fine, I said ‘it’s fine’.” Artemis sighed. “I don’t think I’m fine either.”

“No. Of course not. Sorry. How are you?”

Artemis raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really,” Charlie nodded. “How are you?”

“Well, I have been sleeping a bit better. Not great, but better. Now it’s just managing to be in a room without the windows or doors open that I need to work on.”

Subconsciously, Charlie glanced at the open window again. “That’ll get better eventually.”

“Yeah, but it’s cold now,” Artemis said with a laugh. Charlie couldn’t help but smile, albeit weakly. Her laughter faded, and she looked down at the chocolate in her hands. “I just feel a bit pathetic, really. Panicking about being trapped, it’s—”

“Not stupid,” Charlie interjected. Artemis’ nose wrinkled.

“Maybe not, but it still makes me feel like a coward.”

“You? No way. You’re the bravest person I know.”

But Artemis shook her head and replied, “Not anymore.”

Her voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper, and her gaze low. There was a look of loss and feeling lost in her eyes that made Charlie’s heart hurt. He decided against hugging her, a better idea entering his head instead.

“I disagree. Come on.” He got up off the floor and held one hand out to her. “I’ll prove it to you, if you like.”

Though she looked sceptical, Artemis took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. When Charlie moved to open the storeroom door, however, she shook her head.

“Charlie, wait. I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t seen a Boggart in a while,” she said. “I don’t know what form it will take. What if it’s a Dementor or… What if I can’t face it?”

“That doesn’t matter, because you aren’t going to face it,” Charlie told her. “I am.”

“What is that going to prove?”

“That you’re still the bravest person I know.” Artemis frowned, and Charlie explained, “If you come with me, I think I’ll be able to face it. If not, then I’m not sure I’ll even make it halfway across the room.” He looked at his hand on the door handle and back again. “Will you come with me? Please?”

It seemed as if an age passed before Artemis slowly nodded her head. Charlie thanked her, and opened the door. With her at his side, he walked across the storeroom to the far corner where he had found the locked cupboard. As he approached, a dark cloud rose in the air between him and the cupboard, once more swirling in the air until he stood face to face with the green, shadowy skull that had haunted his nightmares for years.

His knuckles tightened on the hilt of his wand, but his mouth was too dry and his chest too tight for him to call out the incantation to banish the Boggart. He had to think of something that would make him laugh, but all he could think of was the castle that night, the skull hanging in the sky above it, his brother already dead inside its walls before he even arrived…

“Charlie.”

It was not so much the sound of Artemis’ voice but the feeling of her hand on his arm that caught his attention. He managed to pull his gaze away from the Dark Mark to look at her. She nodded at him and smiled. Charlie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Riddikulus!”

A light flashed, and Charlie opened his eyes with a start. The Dark Mark dissipated, exploding into a small display of green and white fireworks. Beside him, Artemis let out a little giggle, and the fireworks stopped. The Boggart was gone. It was just them.

“Thank you,” said Charlie.

“What for? I didn’t really do anything.”

“You were there. That was enough.”

He was still trembling, but that stopped as soon as Artemis rose up onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Charlie felt the last of his tension leave him as he returned her hug.

Resting his chin on the top of her head, he looked back at the door behind them. He wasn’t sure at what point it had happened, but somehow it had closed without him noticing.

And Artemis, still with her arms held tight around him, hadn’t it noticed either.

[l0calalien-blog]

Stucky

I have to write this somewhere because i rewatched first avenger with my girlfriend last night and i had a thought (one of many) about steve and bucky!

first, i want to say that they are in love with each other. soulmates. i love them. they are my boys. my boyfriends. my everything.

HOWEVER, I believe that bucky is more in love with steve than steve is bucky. hear me out on this one.

1920s-30s ~ back then it was obviously illegal to be gay and would have been seen as something of the 'devils work' and we know that steve is religous as he makes comments on it in the avengers film, this would also make sense for the times. so i believe that steve was probably ignoring his feelings for bucky or telling himself that his feelings were platonic. i think steve also probably didnt believe that he was good enough for anyone, let alone bucky, which could be a reasoning for his blatent uninterest in women bucky tries to set him up with. while i think bucky also had the same feelings when it came to the religous parts of homobophia back then, i believe he had more confidence and felt safe with steve to tell him his feelings were more than platonic. i think bucky told him his feelings and steve softly rejected him saying that "it was wrong but he too loved him".

1940s ~ we learn in shehulk that steve did, infact, loose his virginity to a 'girl' in the early 40s, but steve also says in the first avenger that he never really had time for girls and had never really spoke to one before peggy. this could, could, indicate that bukcy and steve did have a secret relastionship and steve just told everyone that it was a girl??? i think at the point where steves post serium and has now been shown that peggy is clearly into him his whole heart belongs to her (as it would me too). i believe steve is too deep in love with peggy to even notice that bucky (still) has feelings for him, which we can see that bucky is from the way he looks at steve and peggy in first avenger after they return back to camp and also later in the bar. i think bucky the retaliates in fake stright with trying to flirt with peggy, being petty that shes getting all of steves attention.

2010s ~ at this point steves mourned buckys loss and has had time to get through the pain, but he would have also seen that the progression with gay rights had come along way since the 1940s and that it was a lot more acceptable. so when he sees bucky again in winter solidier his whole world shifts- his best friend is alive, peggys out the question, buckys evil, buckys beautiful (all things he must have been thinking at the time...)- after bucky and steve fight in winter solider and bucky saves steve shows steve that their love is still there even if its buried. then by civil war steves had time to process his feelings and realise hes in love with bucky and has been all along that he goes AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT and HIS CLOSE FRIENDS because they dont like his boyfriend. nearly beating tony to death because he tried to hurt bucky. even though now steve has had time to think about his feelings bucky is now heavily traumatised and needs time to process the past 70 years, he woudlnt have much time to think about his feelings for steve. while hes in wakanda and hes healed from hydras brainwashing he can MAYBE start thinking about steve but then the next time they see each other they are going into another war, in which bucky then dies leaving steve alone with the guilt of not being able to save everyone and love of his life.

2020s ~ once they get everyone back and steve and bucky are together again they are thrown into ANOTHER war so they still dont have time to talk. then they probably only get a few days or just hours to talk before steve goes back in time for peggy- because even after all of that steves had YEARS, i mean YEARS, without bucky and never really knowing how he feels about him steve probably healed (as much as he could) so his heart stayed focused on peggy because he always knew how she felt about him and him her. it was safe. comforting. and steves been through so much he just wanted something normal so thats why he went back for peggy, leaving bucky in the modern world alone. bucky clearly knew what steve was going to do with the stones from the small nod and smile he gave him, it seemed more like a goodbye than sams did, showing that bucky was letting steve go, giving him his concent to go.

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

so what im saying is. marvel fucked my favourite gays over and they deserved more time together.

[sometimesraven]

[slides into your dms] hello i'm coming to you with this because you're the only one of my dash who will have the context to consider this but...

karlach in a dead by daylight crossover where the entity snatches her on the brink of death to become a killer.

thoughts?

Oh, interesting. Dare I say evil? It's an idea I've never even considered but now I'm considerin' it

Functionally as a Barbarian I'm sure her gameplay would be reminiscent of the Oni (honestly realistically she'd probably be a skin for him if she got added to the game) with a rage meter that allows her to instadown a Survivor if she hits them during it. I don't think she'd be as fast as the Oni in a Rage though, but maybe she'd also gain immunity to Blind while she's in it. Maybe it would fill up based on how long she's in Chase for rather than blood, which would be an excellent looping foil but still workable for the survivor.

Visually she'd probably be a lot more scarred up, maybe with some new tattoos styled after the Entity as marks of new ownership. Her engine might beat black or perhaps look a little more orange and ichorous like the Blight.

There's a bit of lore that I can't remember if it's fanon or canon but it says that the Entity fucks up, tortures and/or mutilates its Killers if they defy it, so I reckon Karlach would have a few more scars. Maybe that's what the new tattoos are. Maybe one of her eyes is blackened or her broken horn is.

Of course, then there's the Backstory(tm) which i went mad with as soon as I read this ask. The Entity feeds on the loss of hope, so I had to imagine in what circumstance K would completely lose that spark she has through the game. My thoughts, of course, turned to the possibility of her having to return to Avernus after everything she's been through in-game.

--

The stench of Avernus had almost become comfortable. Familiar. There had been hope, once, that she would return home to Baldur's Gate. To life. But that hope had died somewhere down here and was rotting with the rest of the corpses she had left behind.

Karlach could barely remember who she was before, nor how many eternities had passed in the grip of this endless Blood War. Her skin was no longer her own, marred and marked by claims of ownership and scars alike. Flames licked at her arms, her legs, her breasts, burning fingers never leaving her be. Her chest, hollowed and replaced with infernal machinery, churned and rumbled in time with the ceaseless war drums. The only company she had were her comrades doomed to die, and the devils who owned her every breath and memory.

Her axe plunged into the skull of another lesser demon, feeling the easy crunch as it tore through bone; the weight of the blade as it was dragged down by the corpse before it lifted free with a spurt of blackened blood. She would have been ashamed, once, of the pleasure this brought her. The power. The only control she had down here -- to choose her targets well and kill them swiftly by any means she chose. After everything she'd sacrificed, that control was the only reward she could cling to.

She blinked, and the demon became a person. A young man, broken in the grass, light missing from his glassy eyes as they stared at her, widened and frozen in the terror of his own death. She remembered, then, the tears in her companions' eyes as they sent her back to Avernus after so long trying to find a cure for her failing heart engine.

She remembered the despair coursing through her as she realised she had no other option.

She remembered fighting her way through the hordes again, losing the vigour she had always fought with before. No more rage. No more hope. Just despair and bitterness at the cards she had been dealt.

Perhaps she grew a little sloppy. A little careless. Let in a strike that should have been easy to parry. Allowed the demon's blade to tear through her flesh. Allowed the pain; the only thing left to remind her she had ever been free.

She remembered the panic as blood clogged her throat and choked her breaths. What had she done? Was this really how it would end, alone here in the darkness to be forgotten like every other Gods-damned creature in the ash?

She expected the fires to take her. She remembered the thick, dark fog that blackened the air around her instead, carrying her somewhere unknown.

Her new war. Her new home.

--

oops i posted this on AO3 as well because crossposting is good posting