#The rest of Worm is just my babies having a wonderful time. Dragon getting her freedom. Taylor living in a polycule with her girlfriends. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cross-d-a · 3 years

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fic tag game

aaahhh @vishcount thank you for tagging me!!! These are so fun and I adored reading about your fic journey~! ೖ(⑅σ̑ᴗσ̑)ೖ ❤

OH as a note!! For the ppl I tag at the end I don’t expect you to read all of this bc it’s A Lot!!! but I figured you might want to do this game yourself? haha :)

Name: cross-d-a shortened version of my first ever username. unfortunately stuck with it now haha but i’m fond of it :p wish it was cuter tho!!

Posting the rest of this under the cut so it doesn’t eat up people’s dashes!!

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Fandoms:

oKAY YIKES there are....honestly too many too name. I’ve got a short and obsessive attention span so it’s either all or nothing with me usually. When I can stay in a fandom for a long period of time it’s a miracle. I’ll name the bigger ones that I’ve all written fic for! Even if I’ve never posted them haha

Right now I’m very firmly into Daomu Biji (dmbj). It feels like it’s both got a crap ton of content and yet barely anything at all haha. Maybe because the English fandom is so small. But at least there are a bunch of dramas and books!!! I really, really, really adore dmbj so much!! And a large part of that is the fandom!!! It's been a really cool and unique experience! Everyone in it is truly so kind and wonderful, and I’ve made some really incredible friends because of it (looking at you vish!! ❤). I’ve got a bunch of wips, but I’ve only posted two fics for dmbj!

Before this I was very into Guardian and mdzs. MDZS was my first foray into cdramas and Guardian’s Zhu Yilong really suckered me into watching more haha I also have fics for both these fandoms!

My very first fandoms were Fullmetal Alchemist, D. Gray-Man and Naruto. My very old ffnet account has fics for these and I’ve got a bunch of newer wips on my tablet. Then Star Trek, Twilight, BBC Merlin, Sherlock, Death Note, Harry Potter, How to Train Your Dragon, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar the Last Airbender and Marvel were a few of my main ones in high school. Plus a bunch of anime (like Fruits Basket! and Kuroshitsuji and Natsume Yuujinchou).

Then college hit and I renewed my childhood love of Tolkien (mainly lotr and the Hobbit), and Star Wars. I also found Teen Wolf! Then after college it was Stranger Things.

I find myself in a cycle of mild fondness and complete obsession with these fandoms haha I go back to Star Wars at least once a year!! Then I’m in the gffa hole for a few months. Marvel also reoccurs, depending on how interested I am in new content! Star Trek I always always always go back to. TOS is my comfort show and it will never fade from my heart ❤

But for now I’m stuck in cdrama hell and I love it

Tropes:

Time travel, found family, whump+hurt/comfort, fairytale-like elements, resurrective immortality (thanks to a “Nine Lives” Hobbit fic), CROSSOVERS

I’m a slut for all these things so they often worm their way into my plots haha

I also just- love weird premises. I think that’s the anime influencing me haha

Fic I spent most time on:

My series he leaves sand and stardust in my wake (main fic is hurricane on the edge of oblivion), I have...spent five years on now. I have done so much research for this fic it’s insane.

The premise is force ghost!Obi-Wan getting shunted back into his tiny 10 year old self. I incorporate a shit ton of legends and I try to stay as canon as possible. I basically want this au to feel like it’s 1000% plausible while still getting all my gay shit. It’s chock full of whump, redemption, found family, minor characters turning into major characters, and I’ve got slavery uprising on the mind, too. It’s just- everything I could ever want to explore in the Star Wars universe basically.

It’s my first big project. I started doodling and scribbling ideas in the margins of my notebook in my Scottish History class. I adore it so so so much. But, because of my hyperfixation and fleeting intense obsession with things it makes it- really difficult to consistently update. I leave it for months at a time and I am constantly guilt-ridden about it. Because it’s my baby and I have a lot of wonderful readers. I fear I’ll never be able to finish it. Especially since I’ve written so much and I’m still only in the beginning of it. ( ; A ; )

Also, I’ve spent so much time with Xanatos, Feemor and Bruck that they just feel like mine now. I can’t read any fics that involve them, it’s too strange. Which is a damn shame because I love them so much haha OH ALSO!! I think it’s the first really big fic to include those three?? So I’m very proud about that haha (I’ve had so many ppl comment about how they actually Give A Shit about these three and are Invested bc of me haha)

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written:

hurricane on the edge of oblivion (with nowhere to go) (Star Wars)

My long-term passion project. My love-letter to Star Wars, I suppose. Reading it now I feel like a lot of it is clunky or long-winded, but I think it really shows the foundation of my writing today :) Main characters are Obi-Wan, Xanatos Du Crion, Qui-Gon Jinn, Bruck Chun and Feemor. Eventually we’ll get to Maul, Savage, Feral, Shmi Skywalker, (more!) Ahsoka, Anakin and a shit ton of clones ❤

things we hunger for (Guardian)

My Ye Zun self-indulgent fic. It’s a time travel amnesia Weilanzun! Honestly has some of my fav writing I’ve ever done. It’s so soft and really indulges in the hurt/comfort. It gives Ye Zun the friends and family I think he deserves. Also, he gets to grow into a (mostly!) functional person and I adore him.

the beast that slumbers within your soul (mdzs)

Jiang Cheng centric fic!! I feel like all my favourite fics I’ve written are love letters haha. This is one def my love letter to Jiang Cheng. This fic possessed me for two whole days. I wrote 16k in almost one sitting. I went to sleep at 6 in the morning bc I couldn’t stop writing. And when I drifted off I kept thinking of new ideas so I’d whip out my phone and write down lines and notes. I- have never ever ever felt that way about anything. It was- insane. It felt insane. It was so amazing. I’m still riding the memory of that high.

Basically Jiang Cheng actually finds Baoshan Sanren and it turns out she’s a fox demon and Jiang Cheng is descended from wolves. It’s- okay I said the fic above this had my favourite writing?? That was a lie. This has my favourite writing I’ve ever done. It’s unfinished bc I am in dmbj hell but I am still excited about the next chapter which features Wei Wuxian’s pov!!

the whispers of spirits (dmbj)

My current passion project. In a way it kinda feels similar to hurricane? Bc multiple povs, incorporating different aspects of canon (we’ll get there!! I promise!), shit ton of research, etc. etc. I really really really love it for so many reasons. I’m basically taking all the things I was unsatisfied with in Reboot and Sha Hai and running with it. Found family and whump galore! It’s also a love letter to the women of dmbj who really deserve so so so much better.

Honourable mention to:

One Day (you’ll have given more of yourself than is meant to be taken) (Marvel)

This fic also kinda possessed me. I just- couldn’t get rid of the idea of a trans!Thor. And I mean a mtf Thor! It’s just? So many people look at Thor and go “that’s a Real Man.” Full stop. They never think there could be anything more, and it really really really bothered me. So I wrote out my feelings. I’m not trans. I don’t have that experience at all. I’ve had issues and confusion about my gender but nothing like this. I just wanted to do justice to this idea of Thor in my head. And I still feel a bit nervous having posted it. But I've gotten so many comments from people who really connected with what I’ve written? So I’m very very thankful I wrote it and it has a very special place in my heart. It’s a very cathartic fic.

Fic I spent least time on:

Probably we rise (Star Wars) and I think it shows haha. I wrote it in response to Dave Filoni posting a drawing of Ahsoka and Gandalf telling her “People thought I was dead, too, and look how that turned out...” So I incorporated Ahsoka (and Din and Grogu and Ezra!!!) into the ending of Rise of Skywalker, kinda explaining how I think they could all still be alive. :)

Longest fic:

hurricane is my longest fic (159k) but I’m kinda worried whispers will eclipse that.....

Shortest fic:

Of my posted ones it’s The Five Moments it Took Tony and Scott to Admit They Were Best Friends (and the first time they ever did), currently clocks at 1.6k. It’s unfinished tho so maybe that doesn’t count.... otherwise it’s we rise which is completed and 2k.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks:

hurricane overall has the most of all these. Though I don’t think hits counts as much bc it’s multi-chapter. If you discount multi-chapter stuff, most hits goes to my obikin smutfic Homecoming, bc people are horny af haha

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:

If I had energy I’d like to rewrite the beginning of hurricane bc it feels so so wordy. I’d want to expand on One Day bc I really would like to write a whole series with trans!Thor. And like- I’d really like the focus to finish any of my WIPs.

Share a bit of a WIP: I really wanna share my Guardian/dmbj crossover that I started back in August. Bc I adore the idea of wu xie&shen wei&ye zun triplets! Plus time travel!!! I dunno if I’ll ever finish it tho ( ; A ; ) It just feels like a lot to deal with right now.

This scene takes place during the Mountain Awl arc. Guardian crew and desperado fam run across each other at the village! Wu Xie has recently found out that he’s adopted and he’s searching for answers in the area Sanshu originally found amnesiac!toddler!Wu Xie in :) Gonna pull two snippets bc I’m v excited and this might be the only time anyone else sees this fic haha:

“Oh?” Pangzi focuses on Yunlan now, lips twisting. “You think I’ve ‘got the wrong guy,’ huh?” He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “That’s rich! Are you that cocky or are you just stupid?”

Bristling, Yunlan drops his hands and scowls. “Excuse me?”

“Sir,” Shen Wei tries. “I think—”

Pangzi’s eyes snap back to Shen Wei, sharp and blazing. “How dare you fucking steal his face!”

What?

Automatically, Zhao Yunlan turns to Shen Wei, but the professor looks just as shell-shocked as Zhao Yunlan feels which- is seriously something. Since everything about Shen Wei is so carefully controlled, kept to the minimum. Except for those delightful little smiles that bloom across his lovely face, or the startled little bursts of laughter that fall from his lips. Or even when anger and frustration spark across his features, cracking his calm veneer open enough that he can see a glimmer of what lies beneath, the fire in those eyes. Zhao Yunlan delights in those moments, makes a game of making Shen Wei’s control slip.

He tells himself it’s nothing more than a game. Nothing more than trying to find out what makes Shen Wei tick.

Zhao Yunlan’s always been very bad at lying to himself. Or very good. Depending on who you’re asking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunlan splutters.

But before anyone can say anything else, a very familiar voice calls:

“Pangzi? What’s wrong?”

Yunlan can feel Shen Wei stiffen, and Yunlan himself is pulled to that voice like a planet in orbit, like the inevitable plummet to the ground.

Another shadow wavers in the doorway before it steps out onto the dirt. Light illuminates shaggy hair, limning it gold, sharply casting everything else in shadow. But as the figure nears, the contrast softens until Yunlan can see the newcomer’s face properly and- and—

“Wu Xie!” Pangzi growls. “We’ve got ourselves an impostor!”

The man wearing Shen Wei’s face steps up to them, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a sharp frown. He glances between them, eyes landing on Shen Wei. His scowl deepens. He opens his mouth, but then—

“Wu Xie?” Shen Wei breathes, all trembly and lost and hopeless.

Heart in his throat, Yunlan turns to Shen Wei again. Turns and flinches at that stricken look upon Shen Wei’s pale pinched face.

“A-Xie?” Shen Wei chokes. “Didi?”

and

Pangzi snorts. “Professor?”

“I-it’s true!”

Startled Yunlan swings his attention over to Jiajia who clenches her backpack to her chest, face screwed up in admirable determination. “P-professor Shen took me and Xiao Quan on a field trip to investigate an archeological site around here!”

“Oh?” Wu Xie drawls all slow and amused. “Well, what a coincidence. We’re archeologists, too.”

“With guns?” Yunlan bites out.

Wu Xie raises a brow, grin full of teeth. “Well, you can never be too prepared.”

“Right,” Yunlan drawls right back. “Are you a professor, too, then? You come here with your students?”

Wu Xie outright grins. “You could say that, I suppose.”

Out of the corner of his eye, one of the men rolls his eyes. He’s the one with sharp features, glasses and looped earbuds. Does he think it’s appropriate to listen to music at a time like this? Yunlan admires the man’s gall.

aahhhh vish thanks so much again for tagging me!! This was so fun to relive my fic memories!! I’m gonna tag @alwaysaslutforshakespeare @jockvillagersonly @tehfanglyfish @lichelleme @undyingsunshine @humanlighthouse @thewindsofsong I’m curious about your guys’ writing and fandom journey!! As always, no pressure to actually complete this!! I just thought it was fun ❤

Wow if you read all of this I am very humbled and impressed, thank you!!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

#cross talks #my fic #fanfiction #uhhh what else do i tag this as i dunno #about me #cross posts #wip fic

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twilightofthe · 4 years

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Chapter Nine liveblog of The Mandalorian Season 2! Let’s go!!!

Recap time!

Oh shit the ARMORER I MISSED HER even if it’s just her voiceover lol

Y’all I am fucking PUMPED

Oh shit yeah Fennec Shand’s not dead I wonder if she’ll show up again too

GOD I MISSED THE SOUNDTRAAAAAACK

OOOP OOP OOP OOP OOP HERE WE GO HERE WE GO HERE WE GOOOOOOO

THAT’S MY FUCKING SON AND HUSBAND

THERE THEY ARE

LOOK AT THEM

THEY’RE JUST WALKING AND I’M IN LOVE AGAIN

BABYBABYBABYBABYYYYYYYYYY

HIS WIDDLE FUCKING FACE

OH NO HE’S WHIMPERING

OH BABY YODA GOD HOW I MISSED YOU

YES MR TWI’LEK LET THE CUTE BABY IN

YES LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS

*cinemasins voice* Space wrestling!

Oh yeah it’s those green pig species guys from ROTJ whose names I never remember, Gamoreans?

Wherever I go he goes KILL MEEEEEEEE

Lol bruh looking for other Mandos won’t teach you how to find Jedi, it teaches you to pick fights with ‘em

HAHAHA THE BABY IS CASUALLY LEARNING MORE VIOLENCE YES I LOVE IT

Heyyy it was Gamorrean!

I feel like I know Cyclops’s voice for some reason

Lol look at Din he has sense

Ohhhh boy fight time

Time to see my husband kick ass

Oh shit shit shiiiiit is there like, a valuable underground trade for beskar and Mandalorians??? SHIIIIIIIIIT

LOL YEP GO HIDE WHILE DADDY WORKS BABY

EPIC GUITAR WAILING NOISES YESSS

ARMOR HUSBAND KICKING ABSOLUTE ASS YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

THAT WAS A FUCKING SASSY HEADBUTT LOOOOOOOOK

HE’S SO AWESOME I’M ;_;

HELL YEAH GET THAT TRAFFICKER BABY

AND CUE THE AWESOME ASS RECORDER THEME

I LOVE ME A MAN WHO NEGOTIATES

Whaaaaaat a Mando on Tatooine? Good thing my Mando on Tatooine fic is an AU!

Mos Pelgo, huh? New city!

Pfff it’s been literally less than ten minutes and I’ve already typed THIS much

OHHH SHIIIIIIT HE’S LETTING THE TRAFFICKER GET EATEN ALIVE DAMN SON

BADASS RECORDER NOISES INTENISFY

Oho, “The Marshal”, huh?

WAIT MARSHAL AS IN LIKE “MARSHAL COMMANDER”

ARE WE GETTING FUCKING CLONES?

OH GOD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

And there’s Peli!!!!!

Holy shit my fic did pretty well predicting that xD

Lol I love her

She is Me

BABYYYYYYYYY

wrinkled critter

Din she doesn’t know what a Mandalorian Armorer means

I LOVE PELI

HOLY SHIT WE’RE GETTING A MAP OF TATOOINE

SHIT I CAN USE THIS

BABY STILL LIKES CAR RIDES

Omg he’s actually sitting with the Tuskens!

TREAT THE TUSKENS LIKE PEOPLE AND NOT UGLY STEREOTYPES 2KFOREVERRRRRRRRRRR

Dang the way he walks tho

(sorry I had to *coughs*)

“Someone who looks like me” pfff Din

Wait hang on a second this “Marshal” isn’t fucking Boba Fett is he he better not

But shit this is on Tatooine it makes sense--

I’M BAD AT MANDO ARMOR IS THAT BOBA IDK I CAN’T TELL IN THE BACKLIGHTING

Ah a blissful stranger. Not a clone tho, dammit, that would have been nice

He sounds young too, I recognize his voice

WAIT A FUCK THAT IS ABSOLUTELY BOBA FETT’S HELMET I MIGHT BE BAD AT MANDO STUFF BUT I’M FUCKING POSITIVE

oh damn and he just took it off in front of Din The Orthodox Mando WHOOP

Shit I know that guy’s actor who is he

OH NO OH NOPE HE’S NOT EVEN A REAL MANDALORIAN HE’S JUST AN ARMOR THIEF WHO STOLE BOBA’S ARMOR THIS BOI IS GONNA DIE AHAHAHAHA

Ahhh we’re going cowboy movies again

Wait so Boba wears real beskar now? I thought his wasn’t

Lol yep here we go Din’s goin’ after him now

“He’s seen worse” Din NO, THAT IS HOW YOUR CHILD LEARNS TO STRANGLE PEOPLE FOR ARM WRESTLING

Tatooine’s got earthquakes?

2012 is that you? Lion King antelope stampede hello

WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THAT A KRAYT DRAGON

I’VE WANTED ONE OF THOSE FOREVER

IT’S AN ALASKAN BULL WORM

No really damn what is that thing lol

Could be a Krayt dragon? But idk their designs

DIN YOU JUST ABANDONED YOUR CHILD IN A POT MY DUDE WHY

AHAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS A KRAYT FUCKING DRAGON HELL YEAH HELL YEAH FINALLY AFTER FORTY FUCKING YEARS.

Ngl I was hoping it would look a little more stereotypically “dragon-ish” cuz I’ve been entertaining this ridiculous fantasy of Obi Wan befriending one in the Kenobi show and learning how to make the noise

But giant angry sand worm friend is also good!

Din bro careful last time you agreed to hunt something on Tatooine with someone new that dude betrayed you

Ohhhh flashback!

Oh for fuck’s sake why are we adding MORE slavery

Y’all know you can also have literally anything fucking else on Tatooine besides slavery

Gah sorry y’all

Lol Jawas again

And more Wilrow Hood ice cream machines!

Ok but so did the Jawas literally fish this off of Boba’s body, did the Sarlaac shit it out and they found it, or did Boba actually sell it to them?

Oh damn and these ppl probs knew who Boba was too

Oooh dinosaur-hyena thingies

DIN SPEAKS TUSKEN

I LOVE HIM

MARRY ME

Ok but now I REALLY wanna know how Din learned the Tusken traditions

GOOD BOY ALERT! GOOD BOY! IT’S A GOOD BOY! DINOSAUR-HYENA IS A VERY GOOD BOY

TUSKEN CULTURE OH MY GOD I’M LOVING THIS

This is not a time to be a picky eater bruh

Ok there Anakin let’s settle down a bit

DIPLOMACY BY FLAMETHROWER DIN I LOVE YOU

Ok so if you eat a sarlaac does that also technically count as eating two meals since you’re also eating whatever it’s been digesting in its stomach for a thousand years?

Yep Alaskan Bull Worm

OH NO IT SCARED THE BABY :O

Din training a village to fight this thing is a wee bit harder than training them to fight an AT-STsaurus Rex

WHY DON’T WE JUST TAKE THE TOWN AND PUSH IT SOMEWHERE ELSE?

This really is just the stereotypical Western episode but kinder to the natives

Damn

“Are you trying to blow us up?” ooooof they WENT THERE

More teamwork!

“Belly is the weak spot” hey so like Smaug!

Wait a fucking second I wasn’t paying attention did they bring Baby Yoda to where he could possibly get eaten by a dragon again

Oh yeah “dank ferrik” is another SW curse

Wait why are they just standing there and letting the Tuskens get eaten

Gahhh everyone’s being so brave I’m proud of them!!!!! :_:

OH EW FUCKING GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS

Gah I HATE vomit scenes especially unexpected ones

Sorry that’s like, a super major squick for me

And dammit they didn’t even kill the worm

Oh and now it’s up there and VOMITING AGAIN I HATE THAT

Oh shite that’s acid

Oh please be careful baby

Ok wait wait wait how did the Jawas even salvage Boba’s jetpack enough to make it fly the whole reason Boba got eaten was because the pack broke

Oh and now I’m seeing a bit of Jaws in this too

Bro noooo are you gonna blow up that bantha?

DIN NO YOU RECKLESS-ASS BITCH

B o i

Actually let himself get eaten

Din where are your braincells

Aw Baby nooooooo

Uh oh I sense more vomit

Or not!

Ok bro that was p badass

Ok yeah Marshal is p hot

There I said it

ASLDKJFSDLKFKL OF COURSE BABY YODA EATS THE RAW DRAGON MEAT

That guy is hoooooooot

“You tell your people I wasn’t the one who broke that” lol yep Han better look out

Huh? We getting excited over MORE eggs?

Oh goddammit and there is Boba Fett because of course

Knew it was too good to be true

Lol sorry y’all just wasn’t particularly excited to see him

Guess that means he willingly gave up his armor, huh?

BUT ANYWAY THIS WAS A BRILLIANT EPISODE

AND I LOVED IT

AND THE TUSKENS GOT THE RESPECT THEY DESERVED

Ok but it also seems at least Marshal and the rest of the townsfolk had the same backwards view towards the Tuskens as Anakin did, now I REALLY want to see RESPECTFUL discussion on colonialism on Tatooine, I gotta know more about this

Still super excited for the next ep!

Aaaaaaaaa!

#liveblogging the mando show #sw the mando show #mando man of mystery #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #star wars #sw

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dreamlanddoll · 4 years

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Ooohhh yes, I’ve got you @omgselinabeckendorf !

Dad!Cedric Headcanons

Cedric never really thought about fatherhood throughout his life, perhaps on the occasion his mother would tease him about when he might give her grandchildren, to which he’d respond;

“Oh, isn’t Calista enough?!”

clearly not

but he just never thought that being a dad was something he’d ever get to do... until he met you of course

the day you two had your first child, Cedric swore he’d be the best father he could be. He nearly cried looking into his own child’s eyes for the first time.

obviously Winifred and Goodwyn are thrilled their son finally got around to giving them grandbabies. Winifred will spoil them like you’ve never seen a grandma spoil her grandchildren before.

and Calista is ecstatic to have a new cousin to hang out with! though she might be a little older than they are

you would have two kids, one boy, your oldest, and one girl.

Cedric’s a little afraid he might end up making the same mistakes his father did with him, so that pushes him to be an incredibly doting parent

perhaps a bit too doting sometimes

you might have to lay down the law if Cedric is letting the kids off too easily for their mistakes

“But just look at their little faces :(”

“Yeah, the faces of a couple of thieves. Put the sweets back.”

Cedric would also often be the target of all their shenanigans, no matter the age they’re at. They may be his kids but they are not blind to the plain old fact that Cedric is a man made for being the comic relief of a situation

and a huge dork

the time their father accidentally stepped into their trap to catch Santa Claus one Wassalia evening is a whole other story

despite all this, Cedric n e v e r and I mean never yells at his kids. His father yelled at him one too many times in his childhood that he’d feel like the worst person ever if he dared raise his voice at his own children

that doesn’t mean you’re not afraid to raise yours though

the kids usually listen to you for authority, but you’re the one that takes them out to do all the fun stuff.

Cedric is very much the anxious parent

“Remember to bring a jacket!”

“Dad, it’s like a hundred degrees outside!”

“You never know when it’s going to get cold!”

Cedric’s prides himself on your guys’s son, who is 2 years older than your daughter. It was quickly decided that he’d be the next Royal Sorcerer of Enchancia, and he’d learn magic along side his little sister.

your son has Cedric’s eyes, ears, and his pale skin. He has your face shape, and any birthmarks or freckles you might have. His nose is a perfect mixture of the two of yours. As well as his hair, though it is light in the front and dark in the rest, just like his father’s.

he’s very ambitious, always ready to learn and a big go-getter. Though he has trouble planning ahead like his father. He’s incredibly clumsy, kind, compassionate, and a bit of a worrier. Very much a rule-follower, and easily frightened. But he has a huge heart.

your daughter is the most precious thing to you and Cedric, but grows increasingly rambunctious and rebellious each year she grows

she has your smile, your eyes, and your hair colour. She has her father’s height, his arms which may look scrawny for him but fit your daughter gracefully, and his hands. Her face shape is a perfect combination of the both of yours, and her nose is like her brothers, only a little slimmer.

your daughter is free to do whatever she wishes with her future, though Cedric would love it if both his children took up sorcery in their careers.

she’s very stand off-ish, doesn't like to talk to people much (just like her dad), stubborn, and can even come off as rude sometimes. She’s sarcastic and tough, but has an extremely soft spot for her brother and would do anything for him, and vice versa. She punches him in the arm to show affection, uncomfortable with saying things like “I love you” or “you mean a lot to me.”

when the children are little, about 2 and 4, Cedric would conjure magical holograms of almost anything; birds, ships, dragons, you name it; in order to teach your youngings about the many wonders the world had to offer for them. This was before they were old enough for schooling, of course.

excitement would dazzle in your baby boys’ eyes whenever he saw a magical, sparkling dragon swoosh overhead, a smile never leaving his face

your daughter would stare up in awe, not sure whether to be scared or intrigued, but she was only 2, and stayed quiet

Cedric takes time to help you raise the kids, they are his too after all, and he wants you to know that you’re in this together. That he loves your children just as much as you do, and as much as he loves you

Cedric likes to dance around the workshop with his daughter while enchanted music plays, he has to bend down quite a bit to reach her tiny little hands, it’s a truly precious sight <3 Before she was 4 she had to stand on his feet and Cedric would just move for the both of them, but after that she could stand, dance and twirl just fine on her own.

Cedric also likes to read spellbooks aloud to his son, even if he can’t understand them yet, he’ll have your son in his lap and a giant book in hand titled “The Joy of Sorcery” open in front of them before bedtime and read what he can before the little one has to go to sleep

whenever you’re putting the kids to bed, you sing sweetly to put them to sleep, lulling them into a gentle and secure bed before kissing their foreheads and blowing out the candle on their bedside

Cedric loves to lean by the doorway and listen and watch when he gets the chance, reviling in such a tender moment he didn’t think he’d ever have the privilege to

his wonderful wife singing their two perfect children to sleep? a dream come true that he didn’t know he even had until now

when your son turns around 6 or 7, ready to start going to Hexley Hall, Cedric figures he’s now also old enough for him to show your little boy around the workshop, letting him view all the potions and spellbooks and magical ingredients he liked

your daughter is still very young, 4 now, and doesn’t know much other than she loves shiny rocks, frog-hunting, and playing in the mud

she even tried putting together various outdoor objects; dirt, rocks, worms, sticks, leaves and flowers into a small pot to make a ‘potion’

it wasn’t really a working potion, but Cedric couldn’t be more proud. He pat his daughter’s head and told her what a great job she did, telling her to hold onto that for the rest of her life

“okay dad!” She beamed, running off to her room to place the pot on her nightstand.

years later when she forgot she even had it, Cedric made sure to put it into a small jar for safe keeping, putting it with all the other remains from his children’s childhoods he kept on a special, magically locked shelf

Cedric wants to keep almost everything that the kids made, played with, or lost because he can’t find it in his heart to just throw anything away

You have to convince him to get rid of a few things... and perhaps little by little throw out some items without him noticing

it’s for his own good damn it

when they’re a little older, about 16 and 14, their personalities and interests really start to shine through

your son is dead-set on being the next Royal Sorcerer, and loves every second of his potion making, spell casting, and alchemy studying

Cedric always feels his heart swell with pride whenever his son says how excited he is to take after him, and that he wont leave one spell un-perfected

though Cedric makes it a point to remind him that it’s okay to not be perfect all the time

“Now son, I’m going to tell you something my father always told me when I was your age. Slow and steady does the trick.”

“...Is that like a metaphor for something?”

“N-no, it just means that you must be easy on yourself if you don’t get things right the first few tries. Or even the 30th! You must be patient with yourself.”

“Ooohhhhh... thanks dad!”

your daughter on the other hand is well on her way to becoming the first female Jr. Knight of Enchancia. And one day, Captain!

of course Cedric doesn’t know a whole lot about being a knight, but he supports his daughter regardless, though he may unintentionally put more energy into his son’s activities

somewhat reasonably so, and it’s not like he means to. He loves both his children equally and dearly, but the amount of attention he puts on his son verses his daughter can be disheartening for her at times, not like she’d ever show it

You and Cedric do catch on though, and decide to talk with her about it

she refuses at first, but slowly eases into this whole ‘talking through your feelings’ thing

Cedric brings out the potion she made when she was 4, showing it to her and telling her how proud he was. Even though it didn’t do anything, it meant everything to him because it was her’s

your daughter tears up a little, trying to hide her crying by jumping in to hug her dad, burying her face in his shoulder.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, (y/d/n).”

you son asks what was going on, you tell him not to worry about it and help you prepare for dinner.

“Doesn’t dad usually make dinner?”

“I’m making something special tonight, your father’s busy.” you smile, nodding to your daughter’s room

your son took the hint, knowing something really serious must’ve been going on and went to help you with dinner

he decides to approach his sister after dinner, and she gives him a brief summary of how she felt and what happened

“Whoa... I had no idea that dad and I made you feel like that. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright, you didn’t even know. I’m just... I’m just happy you’re my brother.”

they share a rare hug, and decide to play some competitive checkers

#im so tired #thank you for this request ive been dying to get these out #im so proud #sofia the first #sofia the fandom #cedric the sorcerer #cedric the sorcerer x reader #cedric the sensational #cedric the sensational x reader #sofia the first headcanons #cedric the sorcerer headcanons

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yangyeet · 4 years

Text

Is This Heaven (Final)

Pairing: Jaemin x Reader (ft. friends!Jisung & Donghyuck)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Status: Finished! Preview Here; Part 1 Here; Part 2 Here!

Prompt: In a world where people have their soulmate's name on their body somewhere, you find yourself caught in a dilemma that would result in a whirlwind of events. Are you ready to face this challenge in a world known to be cruel? Will you find your heaven in a place where people refuse to follow their hearts? Or will you fall as a victim to the legend?

Warnings: character death im sorry in advance

Word Count: 6.6K

Jaemin. Na Jaemin. That was the name of the person who had entered your life like a hurricane and left you on the edge of your seat, eager for more. He certainly was a whirlwind of a person. In under 24 hours of learning about his existence, he had managed to charm you through snapchat, meet you with a mysterious bullet wound, and was now about to tell you another grappling secret that you were sure would impact you significantly.

“Do you…do you perhaps know what The Dragon is?”

His eyes were uncertain, flickering from side to side. You could see that in the way that he started fiddling with his hands and bouncing his leg nervously.

“No,” you whispered, afraid that you’d break the boy if you spoke any louder. Jaemin peered into your eyes and then took one of your hands, lifting it to the scar on his shoulder that you had noticed earlier.

“As you know, a dragon traditionally can be very symbolic.”

You nodded your head. You recalled that Jisung would often talk about dragons, alluding them to his interest in mythology and their relevance in the modern world.

“Well, dragons can symbolize chaos. That’s the meaning we’re going for.”

“So let me guess, you’re a part of a gang that’s called The Dragon and that tattoo is a symbol for your gang, and it was supposed to be on your shoulder which is like one of those gang tattoo things. But there’s more to it.” You tried putting together every stereotypical piece of information that you could remember from the various dramas that you’d watched.

It seemed that you hit the bullseye when Jaemin patted you on the shoulder.

“Oh ho ho. You’re a lot smarter than I took you for.” He didn’t say that condescendingly. Rather, he was looking at you quite proudly as if he were saying that’s my girl.

“Thanks,” you responded, shying away from his gaze. “But what else is there?”

“Actually...everyone in the gang...we don’t have soulmates. We’re outcasts.” He was looking into your eyes, gauging your reaction to see if you’d be disgusted from his reveal.

You weren’t.

In fact, you were more concerned about one specific fact.

“Um...who’s in your gang again?”

“You know Haechan and Jisung are. And my friends Renjun, Jeno, and Chenle. One of our members, Mark, just went on hiatus for a bit to go to a university abroad.”

“So...you all don’t have a soulmate?”

He shook his head. “That’s why we had all tattooed a dragon on ourselves to show we’re the hidden chaos amidst the fake peace. Mine just got removed for a mission a while back.”

“What about Park Jisung?”

“No..he doesn’t have a soulmate. Why?” Jaemin was starting to look a bit perplexed. He looked honest and you completely believed him. Of course, that didn’t have anything to do with the nagging crush in the back of your mind. But you were convinced that he was correct.

“He told me he had a soulmate. I met her too...”

“She’s probably a fake.” Ah. You finally understood a bit of what was going on. If the girl was a fake you could completely understand where he was coming from. A lot of the wealthier families chose to fake a soulmate for their child if they didn’t show signs of a soulmate mark. As long as the person didn’t fall in love, they were free to act however they wanted to; usually, families just bought a fake for inheritance purposes. Nothing more and nothing less.

However, even if that was the case, Jisung would have known that he did not have a real soulmate. He looked so in love whenever he talked about her though. If so…

No, you didn’t want to think about it. That would be playing with fate. And that wasn’t okay...right? It’s not like you were doing the same thing at the moment.

Jaemin was ignorant of your inner conflict and chose to push the topic of the younger aside. “So...I just wanted to say that things haven’t gone as properly as I would’ve liked. Would you like to go on a date with me when I recover? A proper one?” He looked into your eyes earnestly and who were you to deny the handsome boy?

“Of course! Gotta give you time to heal. Also...I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” He quirked his head to the side like a curious puppy and you would have laughed if you didn’t feel like you were about to reveal the most intimate secret about yourself.

You chose to whisper the secret, afraid of the ears on the walls. “I don’t have a soulmate either.”

He didn’t look shocked. In fact, he looked kind of relieved. “Two people without soulmates meet each other. What a story, huh.”

You nodded your head. “Well, I’m glad we got that much off our shoulders. Introduce me to the rest of the gang later?”

“They’re not the best people, but we’ll see. The sun’s rising right now, but let’s sleep in. You don’t have any obligations in the morning, right?”

“Nah. Let’s sleep.”

______________________

The week passed by just like that and you went on the date as promised. He took you to a bowling alley and then a high-end restaurant, showing off his earnings with a reserved table for the two of you. In a way, it was very much like him to shower you in his affection and love by giving you the best possible experiences he could provide. He even gifted you a metal ring that he claimed would protect you from harm’s way, even though you had no idea what he meant by that. Later, you learned that it could be part-blade and part-GPS with a small chip. You were overwhelmed at his gestures, but happy that he had considered you lovely enough to shower you with his love.

Even after the date, Jaemin stayed at your apartment to avoid going out and getting caught by the mysterious enemy. He didn’t explain what his mission was, but he did tell you enough for you to conclude that it was dangerous.

To be honest, living with Jaemin wasn’t too bad. Sure, he was overly affectionate and clingy and slightly dependent on you due to his injury, but it wasn’t overbearing. He had his own quirky way of drawing you in.

You noticed that he really wasn’t a man of too many words. The explaining he had done in the first two nights seemed to be the most he had ever said to you. He chose to show you his feelings through his actions. Some mornings, you would wake up to the wonderful aroma of breakfast wafting to the bedroom. Before you could take a step beyond the blankets, Jaemin would burst into the room with a smile on his face and a bounce in his steps. In his hands would be a tray of warm food, along with some juice, water, and any utensils you’d require for the meal.

Since his shirt was ruined, you had let him borrow the clothes that Jisung had left on the occasional sleepovers and they were adorably a bit too large on him. Jaemin would always joke about how the baby was the one who’d grown the most over the past few years. You’d laugh and agree, remembering how the younger was the chubbiest, most adorable child you’d ever seen.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to exchange childhood stories and banters from crazy experiences in the past either.

He’d talk about his best friends who would always be bound by his side: Jeno, Renjun, and Haechannie. Jeno was the strong figure in his life who had gone through the most terrible storms, but would fight through each and every one of them. The two would have their on and off fights, but they’d try to get along for the peace of the group. Renjun’s art could even make the Mona Lisa smile, according to Jaemin. And Haechannie was the happy virus with a knack for bringing the mood up. Jisung had joined the group after his hacking abilities had caused Jeno a headache. They took the younger in due to his talent and they became a happy family. And of course, he never forgot to bring up Mark, the Canadian kid who nearly threatened to quit the gang due to “Donghyuck’s persistent skinship.”

You laughed at his tales and would respond back with some stories of your own. You’d talk about the time that Jisung had scraped his knees and instead of telling anyone about it, he came up to you and told you that he was an immortal superhero with the strangest powers. Or the time you chased the younger around with a worm in your hand.

Jaemin’s eyes sparkled as you told him various stories of the past. He responded by saying that you looked like you had hearts popping out of yours whenever he’d speak. You’d like to disagree with that, but you knew it was true.

And when it came time to change the bandages, Jaemin would come up to you with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster and pout until you got up. You wouldn’t ever keep him waiting and always had the first-aid supplies ready for whenever he needed them.

Whenever it was time for you to cook dinner, he’d sit on the dining table and just gaze at your figure, absentmindedly admiring you. Most of the time, you’d catch him in his hazy state and point out how the hand leaning against his head caused his cheeks to mush up and turn red. He’d deny that and start arguing how you were just distracting and he really didn’t care about what happened as long as he could keep looking at you forever.

And sometimes, it’d just be you and Jaemin cuddling on your sofa with some Lo-Fi music playing in the background. It was safe to say that you had grown used to having another individual in the house. You were living a much livelier life with him around.

It wouldn’t always be the two of you in the apartment alone. Haechan would sometimes pop by to make sure that everything was alright. The first time he came around, he brought the tattered shirt and threw it at Jaemin’s face, telling him that it was beyond his ability to repair. The second time he came, he caught the two of you snuggling and nearly launched himself at Jaemin for taking advantage of his friend. You put yourself in the middle and gave him a cheeky smirk that he easily turned away from.

In the chaos that was now your life, you surprisingly noticed that Jisung hadn’t bothered to contact you this whole time. He knew you were in a rough spot, so why didn’t he contact you? Maybe he found out you met Jaemin and was mad at you? That still didn’t excuse his absence.

So as you sat across from Jaemin, you dialed his number in hopes of finding out the reason. One ring passed...then another. He strangely still didn’t pick up. Jisung would always pick up your call, even if he was in the middle of class. You tried again, hoping that it was a mishap and you made a mistake, but you still ended with the same result.

“Um, Jaem?” The boy hummed.

“Jisung isn’t picking up.”

“Wait what? He always picks up, though.” Jaemin pulled out his own phone and dialed the number, waiting until the call went to voicemail before looking at you.

You got up from your spot. “I’m going to go to his house.”

He shook his head. “That’s dangerous. I’ll go.”

“You’re still injured,” you reminded him as you grabbed your bag and the pepper spray that was laying on the table beside it. “His house is here, and there’s still light outside. Don’t worry too much.”

Jaemin didn’t look too sold on the idea of you going outside when you were practically harboring an outcast in your home, but he respected your decision and finally resigned. “Okay, but stay on Facetime with me the entire time. I want to see you safe, baby.”

You almost cooed at the pet name and walked up to him, giving him a chaste kiss on his forehead. He wrapped his arms around your waist and gave you his infamous puppy eyes. “Call. Now.” Rolling your eyes, you video called him and watched him pick it up,

After he was satisfied, you walked out and closed the door securely, making sure that no intruder could break in from the outside. It wasn’t a typical occurrence in your neighborhood, but you were never too sure about that.

The walk to Jisung’s house didn’t take too long and Jaemin stayed on the call as promised, telling you the most obscure facts so you wouldn’t get bored. When you arrived at his place, you could hear voices from inside the house. You gave a signal for Jaemin to quiet down and placed your ear against the door. You knew eavesdropping was rude, but hey, if you got any information from it…

You could hear three male voices, one of which belonged to your friend. The other voice that was currently talking was deep, not as much as Jisung’s but still comparable. He seemed to be talking in a soft manner, not raising his voice.

“...it’s...don’t worry....bomb….detonated and...got her and I’m....Jaemin…” The ending fizzled out and you could only make out a few words.

Another hushed voice spoke up, sounding like pure honey. “...he’s right. Also, I think we’ve got a visitor.” The voice sounded much closer and you didn’t have time to back up before the door swung open. You were met with a tall male with bleached hair, his dark roots showing prominently. He looked at you with piercing eyes, looking as if he were ready to eliminate you without hesitation.

Another male walked up behind him, taller and much more intimidating than the first despite his calming aura. His dark hair was a sharp contrast to his milky skin, and his fingers were adorned with rings. However, the next thing you noticed was a dragon tattoo on his biceps, peeking out under the loose t-shirt he was wearing.

“Are you looking for someone?” He asked briskly, clearly wanting to get this conversation over with quickly

The other boy looked offended that he had the audacity to ask you the question. “Jeno, what if she’s a spy?”

“Well, Renjun, let’s give her a chance. She already knows our names thanks to you.”

Renjun just huffed and looked at you. “So, spill.”

“Wow, rude,” you commented, rolling your eyes for a dramatic effect. “Also, I’m looking for Park Jisung. This is his house, after all.”

You heard a sniffle from the background. “Let her in. It’s just (Y/n).” Giving a smirk directed to the boy at the door, you let yourself in and took your shoes off before running to the boy.

“Jisungie, I’m here for you.” You heard a muffled audio vibrate in your pocket and realized that you had left Jaemin hanging. “Jaemin is here too. What happened?”

Jisung looked absolutely heartbroken. He was struggling to contain his tears and you pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s okay. Let it out.” You stayed there in that position, hugging as the two boys behind you awkwardly shuffled around and grabbed some water.

The taller, Jeno, tapped you on the shoulder and held up two bottles of water. “It’s a sorry...for how I acted before. Also Jisung might get dehydrated from all this crying.” You accepted the beverage gratefully and rubbed the sobbing boy’s shoulders before prying him off of you.

“Drink,” you commanded.

Renjun moved to squat beside you and handed the younger a tissue box. He turned to you. “Sorry I was harsh to you too. How do you know Jisung?”

Ah, he was straight to the point. Well, as long as he acknowledged you weren’t dangerous, it’d suffice.

“They’ve known each other since they were kids,” Jaemin shouted through your phone speaker.

“I keep forgetting you’re here,” you snorted.

“How rude.” You could practically hear him pout as he said that.

Renjun, on the other hand, was pretty interested. “Jaemin, Jeno told me you got shot?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “It was a fake.” You heard Jisung cough in the background.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay. Stay on the down low for a bit,” Jeno spoke firmly. You could hear a leader like vibe radiating from him. It was scary.

“Yes, sir,” Jaemin quipped. “Ight, (Y/n), imma head out.” With that meme worthy exit, he hung up on you.

Jisung seemed to finally calm down and was breathing normally, almost a look of determination in his eyes. “(Y/n)-”

“Uh... does she know?” Renjun interrupted.

“The Dragon?” You responded, wanting to show him that you did have some knowledge. “Yeah, I do.”

Jeno quirked his eyebrows and plopped down beside you. “So you know I’m the temporary leader while Mark is out?” Well, no you didn’t. But that made sense.

“I assumed that.” He seemed to like your reply and then gave you a little smile.

“Our maknae...baby Jisung, he received terrible news from an incident that occurred not too long ago.” You leaned in to hear him closer, as if the distance would clear up your curiosity. “His soulmate received a bugged package that exploded. It was on impact…”

You heard a whimper and saw Renjun patting the younger on the shoulder.

“When did it happen?” You asked. “Specifically?”

“Last week. Um, about six days ago? At night, around eight?” You gasped. That timing seemed familiar to you. A bit too familiar.

“Who did it?”

“We don’t know. Our intelligence can’t determine how it got to her hands.” This time, it was Renjun who responded.

“Jisung, can’t you use a tracker or hack a camera to figure that out?”

He shook his head, puffy eyes meeting yours for the first time that day. “I sent that package. I didn’t know she’d get it. I-I fell in love with her too.” He quickly gasped before covering his mouth.

“I know,” you said. “I know you don’t have a soulmate.”

“You’re a smart girl,” Jeno commented. “We can use you.” You didn’t know whether to respond to that as a compliment or to fight him, so you did the next best thing: ignore him.

“Well, I guess I signed up for this in a way,” he responded, downcast.

You sighed. This wasn’t good. You were finding yourself in a similar predicament as him and you were afraid to find out what would happen if you treaded the same path.

The rest of the day dwindled just like that: Jisung mourning with the three of you trying to console and comfort him. You learned more about Jeno and Renjun and obtained all their socials as well.

When you arrived back home, Jaemin welcomed you with open arms and a wet smooch to your cheeks. Haechan, who probably arrived a bit after you left the call, was sitting adjacent to you guys in the living room looking grim. You were surprised to see him so serious, not even breaking out of character to strangle Jaemin for his affection.

“How’s Jisung doing?”

“Fine. It’ll take a while to get over it.”

Jaemin nodded understandingly and brought you down to sit next to the other boy, handing you some pizza bites and mozzarella sticks. You thanked him and ate properly for the first time that day.

Haechan observed you grabbing the cheesy snack before swooping in and taking a big bite from the piece in your hand. You glared at him.

“(Y/n), I found out some information that you wouldn’t like to hear.”

“What?” You asked.

“Jisung’s girlfriend received the package. But that was one of my packages. And I can guarantee you that it did not have any explosives when I sent it out.”

You must’ve looked really perplexed because both boys broke out in light hearted laughter.

“Don’t make that face,” Jaemin finally spoke. “You’re so cute, I might eat you up instead.” You nearly threw up at his cheesiness and threw a stick at him. Lucky for him, he caught it in his mouth and scrunched his nose at you. “Nice try, baby.”

Haechan gagged. “You two are disgusting.”

The two of you chuckled in response before you decided to talk about the elephant in the room. “So you’re saying that the package was bugged?”

“By who?” Jaemin inquired. The other boy shook his head. You all decided to leave the matter hanging in the air and ate to your heart’s content before retiring for the night. Haechan waved you two goodbye and left as you got ready for bed.

By now, you were more than comfortable to sleep with Jaemin and his injury was healing quite well. He was the little spoon today, seemingly more sensitive than before. You combed your hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

“That...what if that package was the one I sent?”

Oof. You had speculated that he’d arrive at this conclusion. So had you.

“It could be.”

“But who spiked it?”

“Dunno.”

Those were the only words exchanged before sleep lulled you both into the realm of sleep. This time, the dream you had was even more frightening. You were in a room that was dark and cold. You couldn’t see a single thing beyond the stone walls and that terrified you. It seemed so realistic. The musty basement smell that permeated the air was giving you nausea in your dream.

A brown dragon swirled around, moving in before attempting to wrap around you. You tried so hard to free yourself, but it was becoming harder to breathe with each passing minute. Feeling a spark of hope, you yelled into the void and woke yourself up to the morning light. Except, it wasn’t morning light. It was the bright light from a bulb above that flickered tic, tok, tic, tok, until it too went out.

That was how you found yourself stuck in your current predicament. You had a vague recollection of getting thrown out of a car and walking into a warehouse, the general directions fuzzy to you. There wasn’t much more that you could recall, detail-wise.

After a few minutes, you heard shuffling and a resounding thud against the door. The person let out curses as they struggled opening the knob and resorted to kicking the door down. It went silent for a couple of seconds and you were afraid that the guards had woken up and decided to fight back. You moved your feet in an attempt to move a bit farther from the door, in case there was an enemy who would barge in.

Feeling all hope of your rescuer disappearing, you let out a sob. “Please, please hurry.”

Although your hands were free, your feet were still bound to the chains and you couldn’t go far without making a ruckus. It was futile but you tried to bang the shackles against the floor of the mini prison. There wasn’t much point in doing that, but you wanted to somehow reassure the person on the other side (if they were alive) that you were still kicking and alert of their presence.

You heard a click and a creak of the door, signaling the person had gotten through. Blinding light filled your vision and you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard a figure run towards you and fall to their knees, hugging you tightly.

“You’re safe now. I won’t let them hurt you. Not ever. I got you.”

“J-Jaemin?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. He spilled apologies, putting his head on top of yours and rubbing his hand on your back to comfort you. Jaemin held onto you as if you were the last thing he’d ever hold and that was bringing tears to your eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you,” you admitted, sniffling and slowly opening your eyes to adjust to the scenery around you. The two of you were in the damp cell, with the only source of light coming from the open door in front of you. Miraculously, the guards who had initially brought here (assumingly) were lying unconscious on the ground, mouths hanging open as if they had been taken by surprise.

“I thought I lost you,” he confessed. “I can’t believe I hurt you. It’s my fault, but I have to make this right.” He pulled out a tool from his pant pocket and swiftly waved it, revealing a lock-picking point. You understood his intention and turned around, putting your bound feet onto his lap. He made quick work on the bindings, easily twisting and shifting through the locks until they fell apart.

You sighed in relief at the feeling of blood rushing through your legs and massaged them. He raised his eyebrows at you and let out a laugh in the ironic moment.

“You freed your hands by yourself? That’s my girl,” he complimented, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing up and giving you a hand. “We don’t have time. Jisung’s waiting with the car.” Time was of the essence. This wasn’t a time to become sentimental, so you wiped your tears as you stood up, accepting his hand.

The two of you cautiously took a step outside the room and looked both ways as you headed down the hall. Your getaway route was easy. Just a left, then a sharp turn to the right, and the door would be straight to the right. A couple of stairs would lead to the entrance of the warehouse and you could escape from the abandoned building. You had memorized the route when you were brought into the warehouse and Jaemin followed your instructions, trusting your memory. When you asked him how he entered, he replied that he simply popped down from the roof and that the helicopter had flown away already.

Learning enough about him to know that it wouldn’t do you any good to bother asking question about his methods, you squeezed his hand and moved forward. He reciprocated the action and pulled you closer to him as you neared the edge. Jaemin peered past the opening and signaled that it was clear. Honestly, you were surprised. You hadn’t expected it to seem this easy.

It seemed that your anxiety agreed. Adrenaline was pumping through your body and you could hear sharp noises of what seemed like a rat scurrying through the pipes. Your nerves were practically on fire at each movement you took through the hallways, but it seemed that you had nothing to worry about as you arrived at the door.

“Not bad, huh?” Jaemin whispered with a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Have you never watched dramas? No protagonist says that.”

“Shh, nerd,” he replied. But as he pushed the door that says pull, you let out a snort.

“Yeah, I’m the nerd here. At least I know how to open doors,” you retorted, pushing his aside to open the door.

The rickety metal stairs were slightly rusty, but they looked in good enough shape to walk in. You placed all your bets on a line as you inched forward onto the platform, hoping that there’d be no noise. Jaemin walked behind you, one hand hovering over your waist as he looked below in search for any enemy.

Going down the stairs was tricky. The shadow of the warehouse masked the two of you well enough that you wouldn’t be in direct sunlight. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of noise from the steps and you finally made your way down to the last step.

Jaemin suddenly paused in his step, sniffing the air. You turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Shit, we’ve been bamboozled. Can’t you smell it?”

You looked up and smelled the air, sensing the musty smell of an old moldy basement. However, you could faintly smell something else like rotten eggs. Was that something that should strike you as odd? “Smell what?”

“We’re gonna have to try to run for it, but it’s dangerous.” You looked at him, stunned, but nodded your head nonetheless.

“Now?” He mumbled a yeah and the two of you took off to the opening of the warehouse. As soon as you were halfway to the exit, there was a thud and the giant cover slammed down. You were completely engulfed in darkness.

Jaemin was still holding your hand, but you could feel him shaking.

As bright lights turned on, you found yourself surrounded by a group of thugs. A familiar face walked out of the crowd and stood in the center, holding a gun cockily and giving you two a smirk.

“Well, well, well. Look who we caught.” His voice sounded as if he had calculated the end result of a simple game of chess - only that game of chess was in his favor and he was about to declare a checkmate anytime soon.

You almost felt your jaw drop. “Is that...no way?”

Jaemin, on the other hand, didn’t look too surprised. Rather, he looked angry. This was not the outcome he wanted and he felt betrayed. There was no way either of you could have stopped this in the end. “Jisungie-”

“Don’t call me that,” the younger snapped. The heels of his boots echoed through the warehouse as he approached you and lifted your chin with the butt of his gun.

“Who do you think sent you the wrong information the other night?”

You heard an audible gasp beside you and saw Jaemin’s eyes widening in realization. “That’s why the deal busted. Even though I made sure it was safe.” He lowered his hands down to his abdomen as if he were still feeling the aftermath of the phantom pain resonating in his body.

Jisung chuckled and waved his hands around. “No, no, no, you have it all wrong, You didn’t make sure it was safe. I made sure it wasn’t safe.” He put his hands in his pocket and pulled out two pairs of earplugs. One had the signature engraving that Renjun usually drew on his raw material. The other was a counterfeit, quite similar to the other, but missing the symbol.

“You gave me a fake? That cost your girlfriend her life!” Jaemin was raising his voice and you could sense him visibly losing his cool. The other men who were standing guard immediately pointed their weapons at him to warn him from acting foolishly. You were at a disadvantage and if you didn’t get out soon, this would go downhill very quickly.

There was a sliver of hope in your mind that the ring on your finger was still working well enough in the abandoned region to gain satellite positioning and alert your other friends where you guys were. However, you knew that Jisung also had access to the technology and he probably would’ve found a way to shut it down.

At this point, Jaemin looked like he was about to lunge at Jisung, weapon or no weapon, and he probably would have done it if you didn’t put an arm on his shoulder. “Not now,” you said rationally. With his head practically being a red target for the enemy, you knew that any rash actions would lead to your demise.

His gaze pierced into yours before he relaxed, stepping back and taking a deep breath. The tension in the room was high and Jisung seemed to enjoy this turn of events.

“(Y/n), I’m so glad to see you making the right decision,” he praised you.

You were gritting your teeth at his comment. “That doesn’t mean I’m letting you off the hook. Why are you doing all of this?”

He rolled his eyes before mocking you in a high pitched voice. “Have you ever been in my shoes?”

Jaemin huffed. “Here we go with the dramatic villain monologue…”

Jisung ignored him and continued his rant, posing with one hand on his hips and the other waving his gun in the air. You’d have to admit that he looked a little cute when he was mad, only if you ignored the situation that you were in and pretended that you were all shooting a film instead. His pout only made him look like a child who was throwing a tantrum to his parents.

“I’ve always been the underdog. What do I do? Sit around with a bunch of monitors and track people or things while breaking into firewalls all day. Do you know how boring and tedious that is?”

“Uh yeah, that’s what a hacker does,” Jaemin mumbled.

“And you know what the saddest part is? I wasn’t there for the love of my life when she died. Because I have more ‘important’ things to do. And you know who killed her?” He was starting to pace back and forth.

You were getting nervous at his actions. Forget about his big motive reveal, you had never heard the usually docile boy talk this much and felt sad that you weren’t there to comfort him at his most vulnerable time. “Who?” You asked, even though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

“Our gang. Jaemin...you were assigned to kill her.”

This time, it was Jaemin’s turn to be shocked. “W-what? I didn’t kill her. I didn’t know,” he denied the accusation.

“Jaems...” You looked at him.

He shook his head. “Honest to god, I did not. Why would I do that to my baby? If only I’d known-”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t have the right to call me that anymore.” Jisung was practically shaking from anger and a sadness that was bubbling slowly to the surface. “They told you to deliver a package-“

“Oh my-no way. Jisung, is it possible that the hidden explosive was made from someone in the group?”

The boy nodded. “Yes. It was. She didn’t see it coming and neither did I when I sent you the location and told you to leave. I didn’t...I didn’t know she’d be the receiver and people would stop you from checking the contents before delivering it.”

You knew that this conversation wasn’t about you, but you did know you’d have to do something quick. Not quite thinking straight, you stepped in the middle.

“Ji-she’d never want you to do this. How were either of you supposed to know?”

“He should’ve known!” Jisung yelled back. You flinched at his outburst. “Whenever we send packages, it’s always-“ His sentence faded with a choked sob. He was broken. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

Beside you, Jaemin looked helpless and absolutely gutted. He had caused his best friend pain without even realizing what he was doing and now he was stepping on a minefield with every passing second. He looked so conflicted as if he wanted to help him, but he couldn’t. Jisung was so broken.

You took a deep breath and walked up to the younger boy. All signs of hostility had left his body and he was hunched over in pain. Even though you had suffered a bit at his hands, he was still the one who’d hold you close and console you whenever you were down. You figured that unlike Jaemin, you had a chance to get closer and disarm the boy in his moment of weakness.

Your assumption was correct as Jisung immediately crumpled into your hold and let out all of the pain he’d been holding back.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled over and over as you tried to hush him. A soft thump resounded against the concrete ground as he let go of his weapon.

“Why’re you sorry?” Jaemin cautiously approached you two and hovered his arms around you both, checking to make sure he wouldn’t get attacked by anyone before he engulfed you two in a tighter hug.

Jisung only sobbed louder and mumbled something under his breath that you strained to hear. “Huh?” You asked.

“Issa trap. I’m so sorry” Although his voice was muffled against your shirt, you could understand his speech. Jaemin also seemed to understand what he was saying this time and he looked at you, his eyes widened.

Before you could adjust to this new information, you heard the sound of a magazine being inserted and a couple of bullets ringing out, eliminating all the guards.

The Dragon, or should you say the leader of the gang. Lee Jeno, stared coldly at your little circle. His gun was pointing at Jaemin, the red pointer clearly indicating a small mark at your boyfriend's left shoulder.

“Good job, Jisung. You’re the perfect little agent.” Jisung whimpered in your hold and held you tighter, if possible. He was afraid. It was safe to say that you were too.

Jeno had this crazed look in his eyes as he glanced at Jaemin. “You’ve ran for long enough. It’s time for you to go. Any last words?”

The boy stared defiantly back in response. “I’m not dying. My girl, best friend, and I will make it out of here.” He didn’t seem too sure of those words as his voice wavered.

Jeno huffed at the retort. “You sound unsure of yourself.” He was taking small steps and walking over with his gun never leaving the mark.

“Don’t kill him,” you spoke up. “You need to let go of this delusioned idea you have of people. Not everyone is like you.”

“So? I couldn’t get my love. Why should he? You know what happens to those who defy fate. I was meant to be your obstacle,” he reasoned, almost trying to convince himself why he was doing this.

You found a weak spot in his hesitance and decided to strike. “If this is about soulmates, you can learn to love again. Love comes in all shapes and forms. If you weren’t destined for a lover, then love your friends. Love the people around you. If you can’t do that much, how could you live knowing that you hurt so many of your own gang member’s chances at love?”

“It’s all jealousy,” he shouted back. Jeno was less than a meter away from you by now. Pure adrenaline was pumping through your blood and you were ready to fight-or-flight. The fear from earlier was dissipating into a feeling far more rushing.

Jaemin stood up from his spot beside you as he and Jeno were now finally face to face. “We were like brothers. I’m sad to see you’ve chosen this path.” He sounded disappointed as if he were scolding a child rather than facing death in the eyes.

Jeno just chuckled and thumbed at the activator. “Do you know why they say you shouldn’t defy fate?” You squeezed your eyes shut just before you could see Haechan, Renjun, and Chenle burst through the opening and reach out to stop the boy.

But it was far too late.

He shot.

You finally realized why they always told you to never break the soulmate rule. The one who you loved would always die.

You had averted your eyes to avoid watching Jaemin fall to the ground, clutching his shoulder - or should you say, his Achilles heel. It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t painless either.

The boys had reached you guys way too late. It was kind of ironic. They said heroes would always be there in time to save you, but they never did. You couldn’t be the one to divert fate.

It was almost as if a crescendo background music had ceased. The blood rushing through your body from pure adrenaline was almost deafening at this point but there was no way you could miss his body dropping to the floor.

But there was no way you missed how Jaemin crawled to hold your hand and tell you he loved you and he would continue to love you in every life. He said he’d go meet you every time, even if he didn’t have a soulmate mark, because he knew you’d be the only one for him.

Haechan had later seized Jeno’s weapon and wrestled him to the ground. Nothing, however, could change the fact of the events that transpired. The gang decided to eliminate their current leader and reinstate Mark, who’d been angry at the news. It wasn’t a very happy ending, but you were satisfied that the boys stayed by your side.

Later, much much later, Jisung held you in his arms as Jaemin’s passing finally hit you. Oh, how the roles were reversed. It just wasn’t fair. Not at all. Such a beautiful life had been taken from Jaemin before he could truly experience life all because he dared to fall in love.

Now you were determined to hold on to the sliver of life just to keep living for him out of spite. Even if you weren’t meant to fall in love, you had met an angel who dared to show you what heaven was like. Sure it wasn’t ideal and it burned fast, but you had enjoyed the ride. You wouldn’t cry anymore. No, you were over it. It was time to pick yourself up and be strong, for yourself and for Jaemin.

Tag list (i’ll try to do this for my next series): @markleeswifeee

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alagaesia-headcanons · 5 years

Text

Morzan AU 2: Electric Boogaloo

(I know this is late, but I almost doubled my word count from what I had when I thought I was almost done, lol)

(Also, this is so long I posted it on AO3 here. Read it there if you want to.)

Guys... if you think that one Morzan redemption au is the only one I have... I’m bout to show you what’s what.

And guess what?????? ROLE SWAP AU! LET’S GO!!

This AU follows canon up until Murtagh’s birth. Like last time, for the sake of this AU I’ll specify that Morzan wasn’t the one who killed the first Saphira.

The news of Selena’s pregnancy brings Morzan no joy. He doesn’t believe in happy families. He puts no faith in family at all. To learn that he’s being forced into one he never wanted is... less than thrilling.

His mother resented him from the moment he was born and did all she could to get him out of her hair. He would say that she raised him alone, if not for the fact that she barely raised him at all. Her affection was miserable and her punishments harsh, but she taught him one invaluable lesson: the world is cruel.

All those kids he trained with, Brom and the rest, with parents who visited them and spoiled them, were all full of shit. They were faking it. They just pretended they weren’t fucked up like he was so they could feel better about themselves. So they could look down on him.

Morzan’s aware, in some suppressed part of his mind, that with this mentality, he’s shaping up to be just as terrible of a parent to his unborn child as his mother was to him. But whenever that thought worms its way back into his mind, he pulls open a new bottle of wine to drown it away again.

Selena’s not much better. She had taken to Morzan’s missions with a fervor, and she resents the child for forcing her to give them up. She itches to return to her work in service to the Empire and grows more and more irritable every day.

Arguments between Morzan and Selena grow more frequent and more dangerous. Their relationship, unhealthy on its best days, frays thinner than ever. The serving staff desperately attempt to stay out of their way; it seems like every other day one of them is on a warpath. By the time the baby is almost due, the tension has mounted to near unbearable.

Morzan stays as far away from the labor room as he can. He drinks through the whole birth. His hand shakes as he raises the goblet to his lips and he will never admit, not even to himself, how afraid he is. He’s not ready for this. He’ll never be ready for this.

By the time his child comes into the world, Morzan’s blacked out.

The next day, he puts off seeing the baby for as long as he can under the excuse of tending to his hangover. When he finally goes to the nursery in the late afternoon he finds Selena resting in bed and the baby in the arms of a nursemaid seated in the corner. He’s startled to see her, he thought that Selena would want to nurse her own child for at least the first day. Though, once he sees it, he can’t fathom why he thought she’d be interested.

He makes his way to the corner, ignoring a biting comment from Selena about his tardiness. The nursemaid offers him the baby, sleeping peacefully, but he stirs when Morzan lifts him into his arms.

He squirms and swings a chubby arm into Morzan’s face. He grabs the offending limb to push it aside, but the sight of his tiny, delicate hand in the grasp of his thick, calloused fingers freezes him in place. A heavy weight seems to settle on his shoulders. An unexpected sense of responsibility goes through him as he realizes how easily he could hurt this child, how fragile it is.

A playful squeal shakes him from his thoughts and for the first time Morzan meets the big gray eyes of his son. Something tugs in his heart that he’s not sure he ever knew was there. Without thinking, he lifts a hand to brush his finger over his little nose and smiles when his face scrunches up. He burbles and catches his finger with a clumsy hand and tugs. Morzan lets him hold on as he studies his baby with fascination for another minute.

Then he squeezes his eyes closed and starts to cry and Morzan abruptly feels extremely guilty. The nursemaid tells him he’s probably hungry and he lets her pry him out of his arms with surprising reluctance. He stares a moment longer then turns and walks out as fast as he can, feeling even less sure of himself than when he’d entered.

The next day, Selena announces that she will be leaving in a few days. As soon as she regains her strength to use her magic, she intends to leave on her next mission. Morzan barely stops himself from gaping at her. How can she possibly focus on that? He’s been so distracted he couldn’t even sleep last night!

Morzan had picked over his food and, for the first time in a long while, barely sipped at his wine. He readied for bed, mind fully occupied by those moments with his son. He stood hovering at his bedside for a long time before abruptly striding out of the room.

When he had picked the child up that time, he didn’t wake and continued to doze in Morzan’s arms. He held him for several minutes, examining his indistinct features and stroking his little hand with a thumb, until his pride would allow it for no longer. He handed him back to the nursemaid and realized he knew nothing about her. He had nothing to do with her selection and now he regretted it. With a cold glare, he threatened her extensively should she ever let harm befall him until he was satisfied with her terror. He left.

But when he finally settled into bed, he found no rest. It was as if he’d left his mind behind in the nursery and it couldn’t move anywhere else. He tossed back and forth restlessly, head filled with thoughts of the baby and heart filled with emotions he didn’t understand. To be frank, he didn’t want to. This single day had thrown everything he’d felt for the past eighty or so years into disarray. He hoped this was some sort of fluke, that tomorrow, he’d wake up feeling the same as he always did and things would return to normal.

They do not. Morzan continues his unusual behavior, surprising everyone, including himself, up until Selena’s departure. Morzan watches silently as Selena packs her belongings for this latest, bloody outing, arguments building on the horizon like storm clouds. For once, instead of breaching them, Selena just says, “I’ll be back in a fortnight. You’ll look after the baby?” “Of course!” Morzan barks, a moment before he realizes her tone was condescending and mocking.

Her eyes widen at his response then she snorts at him. Morzan scowls and spits, “I do what I want, woman,” although, he doesn’t quite know what he wants right now. Or maybe he does know and just doesn’t want to admit it because, after Selena leaves, Morzan’s feet carry him back to the nursery.

The staff are confused, even wary, at the sudden changes in the head of the household. They shy away, almost suspecting some sort of farce. All of them notice, including the old gardener in the one room cabin on the grounds.

Brom’s first several years disguised at Morzan’s manor were much the same. Eavesdrop on the staff, spy on the Black Hand’s outings, watch Morzan drink himself near to death every couple weeks. It was routine. All these things surrounding Murtagh... he wasn’t counting on this.

He sees the first time Morzan brings him outside, up on a balcony overlooking the gardens. He has little Murtagh hoisted in his arms and his eyes go wide as he brings him out into the great wide world. Brom’s too far to hear his words, but his look of fondness while he murmurs to his son is one Brom never thought to see on Morzan’s face. When Murtagh starts to cry after a while, Morzan gently brings him back inside and Brom realizes his jaw is hanging open.

He’s there about a month later when a commotion breaks out around the side of the castle. When he wanders around, he finds Morzan bellowing at a carriage driver and a few work hands that had arrived. They bow and scrape but Morzan doesn’t stop shouting until he’s chased them away. Only as Brom watches the retreating carriage does he realize that it was the regular delivery of wine, which Morzan would have rather killed than go without. At least, he would have before...

(This one concerns him. He’s built a good disguise, but he also counts on Morzan’s perpetual drunkenness to keep him from being recognized.)

He watches as Morzan and Selena storm onto the balcony of their room, arguing explosively one night. Morzan has Murtagh, crying, tucked against his chest and Selena keeps gesturing to him as she shouts. After a time, she lunges forward and grabs at Murtagh and Morzan jerks back. Murtagh starts wailing louder than ever. A painful moment passes where Selena glares and Morzan gapes, then he whirls back inside. Brom cranes his neck futilely to see inside, and wonders if the child was hurt.

He sees Morzan introduce him to his dragon for the first time in the enormous courtyard in the grounds. Murtagh squeals with glee and reaches his little arms out as far as he can. Morzan lifts him up and the great red beast lowers his head to meet him. Murtagh wraps his arms around the small span of his snout that he can muster until the dragon gently pulls back. Despite Murtagh’s obvious joy, Brom sees sorrow in Morzan’s eyes as he beholds his mindless partner.

He’s there when Morzan brings him out into the garden, holding his hands as he totters along. He laughs as he chases after butterflies and encourages him to befriend the garden cats. But Brom also sees his glances up at the balcony when Murtagh’s back is turned and sees his apprehension. He wonders what Selena’s relationship with her son is like.

He knows when Morzan’s resolve fails and he descends into the cellars because he finds him passed out, breath stinking of wine, on one of the benches outside to avoid bumping into Murtagh in that state. With his face relaxed, Morzan looks more human than Brom has ever cared to see. One especially cold night, Brom brings out a blanket and lays it over him without stopping to consider the gesture.

He watches when Morzan returns from one of Galbatorix's missions and heads straight for his son. Murtagh shouts and runs to him the moment he sees and Morzan sweeps him up in his arms. He showers him in kisses as he giggles and squirms and he tells him how much he missed him.

And he wakes up in the middle of the night one night when he hears a knock on his door.

His heart rate spikes when he opens the door to find Morzan, but before he can react, he's grabbed his chin and tilted his head back. Brom manages a "Can I help you?" but when Morzan continues to turn his head to examine his features, he knows the jig is up.

Morzan's voice is surprisingly calm when he says, "Hell, it really is you. How long have you been living here, right under my nose?" There’s a pause, and Brom nearly bites out a caustic response when Morzan says, “Gods, I was terrible to you. I should have treated you better. I should have never left you to join that rabid traitor. I’m sorry.” He releases him gently.

Of all the things Brom expected, an apology was the very last one. He takes a step back in shock, and Morzan takes it as an invitation to come in. “So you’re spying for the Varden, I imagine?” Brom regains his wits and snaps, “Do you expect me to tell me anything?!” “No, I suppose not...”

The silence lasts until, suddenly, Morzan is talking. He’s discussing Galbatorix’s most recent plans, the Varden outposts they’re aware of, the mission Selena is planning next, and more. Brom just stares as he divulges this veritable treasure trove of information; he would be salivating if he didn’t feel so suspicious.

When Morzan finally trails off, Brom asks, “Why would you tell me any of that?”

“Because I was wrong. And damn me, it took nearly a century to realize it, but I was wrong the whole time. Everything Galbatorix has done has made things bad and worse and nothing makes up for it. Not the power I gained, not the grudges I settled... None of it was worth it. You were right all along but I never bothered to stop and see it. Maybe I can make it up to you, even just slightly.”

“And Murtagh?” Morzan sighs sadly. “I know that if anyone can make a better world for him, it’s you. God knows I’ve just fucked everything up. But I’ll do what I can now.” “You’ve changed enough?” “For the first time in... ever, I’ve realized the value that life has. How special it is. Yes, my Name’s changed; he’s changed it.”

Then Morzan swears in the ancient language that all the information he gave was true and Brom’s opinion of him, which had been in limbo for months, snaps into something like respect. So they settle into an agreement where Morzan will report to him and Brom will send his information on to the Varden.

It’s a precarious and dangerous game when surrounded by such dangerous and intelligent people as Selena and Galbatorix, but Morzan manages to hide his shift in allegiance. Luckily, it’s not terribly difficult to sneak out of the manor, considering how often Selena is away on her missions. So, some nights, Morzan goes out into the ground to discuss matters with Brom in the little, one room cabin.

At first, their relationship is completely professional, they go over the matters that they need to, then go on their way. But it doesn’t stay that way. For one thing, it has been a very long time since Brom could converse with someone who knew who he was, and he can’t help but give into the temptation to tell Morzan about his experiences, to complain, banter, and laugh.

(After one cheeky complaint about living with Morzan’s miserable pay grade, Morzan actually does give him a raise. In fact, he gives all his staff a raise. He claims that it would be too suspicious to give it to Brom alone, but Brom sees it for the kind gesture it is.)

Morzan, for one, relishes in finally having someone he can brag about his son to. He’ll talk about Murtagh for as long as Brom will tolerate it, which is actually quite long because he finds it sweet (though he won’t admit it). Even after witnessing everything that he has, it’s these late night conversations that really reveal to him the true scope of change Murtagh has inspired in him. It’s a strange feeling to observe the man he could have been all those years.

At first, Brom is bitter, thinking it unfair that Morzan has only changed now, after so long, after so much damage had already been done. But he can’t ignore how hard he tries- he sees it every time- how much Morzan wants to make it worth it now that it’s happened. It’s in the back of both of their minds, that it might be too late now to make a difference. Morzan does everything he can to prove that wrong.

In the end, Brom chooses to focus on who he is now. He can’t change what happened in the past anymore than Morzan can, but he can aid him now. He can report his news to the Varden, he can deflect probing questions from the rest of the staff, and he can hold his hand when he chokes up as he talks about his dragon.

He helps Morzan help himself, and just maybe, it might ease some of the burden long resting on his heart as well.

The atmosphere between then starts to pick up strain each night they meet, until one night, when they remain after having discussed the tactical and the not so tactical. The uncomfortable silence lasts until Brom finally snaps, “Well are you going to kiss me or not?” Morzan frowns, “Do you want me to?” and that settles it. The old Morzan would have never asked, just taken what he wanted, so the fact that he asks now... Brom kisses him himself.

After a time, Brom mutters, “Damn you... Damn you for pulling me back into this, after so long...” Morzan pulls back. “You’re the one who kissed me.” “I know.” And he kisses him again.

Returning to his and Selena’s bed gets harder after that. The nights that she’s there are few enough, but she’s a cold, hard woman. His betrayal only adds to his stress and his paranoia keeps him from sleeping soundly with her at his side. He’s afraid he’ll wake up one morning with his throat slashed.

Increasing arguments don’t help either. They both fight frequently over how to raise Murtagh. Selena cares little for his tender age or childhood. She scorns his love of playing outside and his budding interest in the dusty, old piano. Whenever she catches Morzan playing with him or doing a project with him or telling him fantastical tales, she rages that he should be starting classes: learning about history, politics, and strategy.

Morzan tries to shield little Murtagh from all this as much as he can, but he can only do so much. Inevitably, Murtagh will seek out Selena on his own without Morzan there to defend him. He longs after the love and approval of his mother. The results of these exchanges are always fruitless and sad. Sometimes even dangerous.

When Murtagh is learning his letters, he gets distracted making a classic child’s illustration of his family. Wobbly stick figures made with an unsteady hand, wide smiles, scribbled hair, and splatters of ink from overly enthusiastic dips into the inkwell. He presents it proudly to Morzan who smiles at the rendition of the two of them holding hands. Murtagh even took care to draw Morzan’s blue eye as an open circle and his black eye filled in. But his heart sinks when he sees Selena’s smile, and then lower when he sees the vague, dragon shape clearly meant to be his partner.

He would have loved him, he thinks.

But Morzan still kisses him and tells him how proud he is and suggests he put the picture up in his room. Selena wouldn’t like it in theirs. It leaves his mind until Murtagh pulls out the parchment again at dinner. Before Morzan can stop him, he’s presented the drawing to his mother and waits with a painfully hopeful expression. The air goes cold as Selena examines it for a long minute. Then, detached as stone, she folds it, stands, and ignites it over one of the candles.

She looks over at Murtagh’s pained gasp and glares. “You should be focusing on your studies, not this trivial foolishness. Your absentmindedness is a disappointment.” Her voice is like ice. Murtagh sniffles. “Don’t you dare start crying. You need to stop acting like a child.” She manhandles him back into his chair. “Now you will stay there, silent, until you finish your meal. If you start bawling, I swear, I will spank you sore.”

This immediately alarms Morzan. He’d never know her to hit him. But the way that Murtagh flinches at the words assures him that he intimately understands that threat. Inevitably, there were times when Selena was at the estate when Morzan wasn’t and it seems that Morzan’s fears about them were justified. Yet, he keeps his mouth shut at the moment for Murtagh’s sake; another argument right now would likely be at his expense.

The moment Murtagh finishes his meal, however, Morzan rises to escort him back to his room. Once there, he starts sobbing into Morzan’s arms, barely able to articulate his grief over the burned drawing. After a while, Murtagh looks up and whimpers, “Why doesn’t she love me?” and Morzan’s heart just stops. Because how can he answer that? How can he tell him that his mother is cruel, cold, simply doesn’t care about him? How can he break his heart like that?

After a long hesitation, Morzan just tells him that there is more than enough love in his own heart for him, and whenever Murtagh needs it, he’ll be there. It feels woefully inadequate, but Morzan doesn’t know what else to do. He squeezes himself into Murtagh’s child sized bed to comfort him as he sleeps that night without bringing him to his own bed with Selena. He manages to coax Murtagh into making a new drawing the next day by making one with him. This cheers Murtagh significantly, but the incident remains in their memories.

Similar incidents continue to occur until the situation comes to a head violently one night.

Morzan has just returned from a mission from Galbatorix that he did his best to undermine without being too obvious. It was exceedingly difficult, however, and when Morzan finally returns, he wants nothing more than a hot meal and a long sleep. Unfortunately, the king had more plans that needed immediate discussing with Selena, meaning he would get no rest any time soon. The two of them storm into the library, then seal it shut, arguing ferociously. Selena, naturally, has come up with the most ruthless and brutally efficient way to carry out Galbatorix’s will, while Morzan tries to steer the plans in a direction less harmful to the Varden.

They spend several minutes in hot debate when a clatter behind them has them whirling around and drawing their weapons. Morzan sees Murtagh trip over the corner of a bookshelf he had been creeping around, a children’s book peeking through its place clutched in his arms. But before Morzan’s muscles even have the chance to relax, he hears Selena shout, “Kverst!” and he can only watch in horror as the blow takes him full across the back, cleaving him from hip to shoulder.

With Murtagh’s scream still ringing in his ears, he roars, “What have you done?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“He was eavesdropping! If this information gets out, it could damage the Empire! He needs to be-” Morzan doesn’t wait to hear the rest. He scoops up his son and flees the room. Once he considers them far enough, he sets Murtagh on the ground and starts to heal him. He barely makes any progress before he has to stop, hands shaking as they go cold.

He had expended enormous amounts of energy on his mission and he had no chance to gain it back. His dragon had already gone to the hold to sleep, his energy also drained, so he couldn’t rely on his power. He would die before he could save Murtagh, Morzan realizes chillingly. So, with the last of his strength, he carries Murtagh outside, as far as he can before he collapses in the courtyard. And then he screams.

Morzan screams, cries, wails for help, his agonized keening splitting the night air. Desperately, despairingly, deafeningly, he begs and pleads. In less than a minute Brom is sprinting up, chest heaving, and stops dead at what he sees. Morzan, trembling over the broken body of his son, cheeks drenched in tears and hands drenched in blood. “Please, please, save him, save him-!”

Brom knows this could mean his end; this could expose him for who he truly is, but when Morzan shuffles back, revealing Murtagh crumpled on the ground, all his concerns evaporate. He kneels at his side and starts to heal him, his gedwey ignasia glowing faintly beneath the dye on his hand. He works with single minded focus, casting magic unfalteringly until he can do no more. When his hands start shaking like Morzan’s had, he pulls back, examining the wound.

The horrific thing is far from fully healed, but Murtagh’s chest rises and falls steadily and his life is out of danger. Morzan drops his head onto Brom’s shoulder and whispers, “Thank you... thank you...” sounding profoundly exhausted. “Of course,” Brom answers because it’s true. Despite his initial trepidation, he would never leave Murtagh and Morzan to suffer like that.

Soon though, Morzan lifts Murtagh and staggers back inside with him, leaving Brom alone in the courtyard. The couldn’t risk staying together like that. Brom is left to slowly pick himself off the blood stained cobblestones then make his way back to his cabin. Rest doesn’t come easily after all that.

For the next couple of weeks, Morzan doesn’t come out to see him. Instead, he stays with Murtagh, trying to aid and comfort him as he heals. It’s in these weeks that Brom is contacted about Jeod finding a passage into Uru’baen. Brom knows this requires his immediate attention, but it feels wrong to simply leave Morzan without a word. He lingers on packing as long as he can justify. Then, to his great pleasure, Morzan shows up at his door the last night he intends to stay.

Morzan begins by explaining the full situation with Selena and how Murtagh was injured. Apparently, he has finally managed to chase her away from the estate for the time being, though he doesn’t expect it to last long. Brom breathes a heavy sigh of relief when he tells him that Murtagh will recover, but his voice goes quiet as he says that the scar will stay with him for the rest of his life and that they don’t yet know how it might come to pain him. Brom pauses to examine his features and sees how exhausted and defeated he look. He meets his gaze and some of it eases.

“You saved him. You saved his life. I can never repay you for that.” “Maybe you can.” Brom goes on to explain that something arose that he needs to attend to, and that he has to leave. He leaves the details vague, not out of distrust, but out of fear for what Galbatorix could learn if he realizes Morzan’s betrayal. Morzan accepts his secrecy with an even nod. Then Brom asks, “What do you know about where the dragon eggs are kept?”

Morzan frowns. That’s a tricky topic. Even after being released from his oaths from his True Name changing, the location of the eggs is surrounded by so many wards to prevent its disclosure. After some trial and error, Morzan is able to make a crude map for Brom to see. It’s not perfect, especially considering how labyrinthine the citadel of Uru’baen is, but it serves.

Brom knows that Morzan has probably surmised much of their plans from the question alone, but he hopes it’s not enough for Galbatorix to stop them should he find out through Morzan. Besides, he had to take the risk. Better to ask now than to fumble through Uru’baen in search later. Morzan gives him a weak smile and says, “Stay safe. Don’t be reckless.” Brom smiles back. “You too. And keep him safe as well.” “Always”

They linger together a long time that night. A single goodbye kiss is not enough when they’re both aware they may never see each other again. So they kiss gently for a long time and doze lightly in each other’s arms. They rise a few hours before dawn, when Brom departs and Morzan returns to Murtagh.

When Galbatorix summons Morzan a month later, raging over the theft of one of the eggs, Morzan can barely keep a grin off his face, knowing Brom's plan must have succeeded. When the king sends him after it, though, that takes the edge off his happiness. He can't reclaim it, Brom has to get it to the Varden, but if he fails, Galbatorix would examine his mind to find out why. That would most certainly spell his torture and death. But there’s nothing he can do for now but obey, and if he dies in the end, so be it. He’s found something worth dying for.

Soon after he heads out, however, he’s made aware that Brom doesn’t have the egg at all. Apparently, the plan was only semi successful; the thief did manage to swipe an egg, but then he fled the Varden as well as the Empire. Brom is on the hunt just like he is. Learning this, Morzan commits himself to the search. The egg would do no good in the hands of a renegade. If he could capture it himself, he could turn it over to Brom and ensure its safety with the Varden.

The hunt seems to stretch endlessly. Month after exhausting month go by without capturing the dragon egg. Inevitably, over such a long span of time, Brom and Morzan cross paths occasionally. Jeod is more than suspicious about Morzan, but Brom manages to convince him of his good intentions. If nothing else, the tender look in Brom’s eyes when he talks about Morzan makes Jeod too empathetic to demand that they don’t meet. The encounters are fleeting but meaningful.

Seven long, desperate months pass until Brom, Jeod, and Morzan are able to corner the thief in Gil’ead. The resulting clash is chaotic and vicious. The thief, feral as a cornered wolf, fights with nothing in reserve and Empire soldiers attempt to interfere, unaware of Morzan’s true intentions. All this turns the battle into a roiling mass of confusion with deadly consequences.

A reckless and poorly thought out spell of Brom’s goes awry and hits Morzan’s dragon instead of the intended target. He dies instantly.

Morzan staggers to a halt, as if wounded, but before any of his enemies can take advantage of the situation, he goes savage. For a moment, Brom fears for his life, thinking that Morzan went mad like he did when Saphira died, but it quickly becomes clear that he kept his mind in his grief and rage. Fueled by that, Morzan manages to kill the thief and destroy the soldiers Brom had not already taken care of.

A profound silence falls then.

Brom slowly approaches where Morzan collapsed at the side of his dragon. He says his name softly and Morzan turns, head lowered, and sets the egg he had claimed from the thief on the ground in front of him. “I’m sorry,” Brom whispers, and when Morzan lifts his head, he sees tears streaming down his cheeks.

“He was already dead,” he chokes out. “He died when his Name, his mind, was destroyed, all those years ago.” His chest heaves. “He was already dead. I just- never had the courage to put him out of his misery myself.” He whispers, “It’s not your fault...” A long pause follows, then Morzan says, “Go. Take the egg. Leave me to mourn.”

Brom knows he’s right. He must bring the egg to the Varden immediately. After a brief deliberation, he leans forward to place one, short kiss on Morzan’s lips. He tastes the salt of his tears. “I’m sorry,” he says one more time. It’s the hardest thing Brom has done, to abandon that battlefield with the echoes of Morzan’s grief fading in the distance.

After long, uncounted hours, Morzan’s cloud of pain clears enough for him to consider his path now. Returning to the king would gain him nothing but pain. There is no returning to his life a turncloak spy anymore, not after what he’s done. If he is wise, he would flee the Empire and live alone, outside of civilized rule. But when Morzan rises, he looks West, not East.

It has been seven months since he’s seen Murtagh, the longest he’d ever been without his son. He knows that if he runs, Murtagh will be seized and raised by Galbatorix. The thought nauseates him. He remembers the first time he laid eyes on him and how delicate his hand looked within his own. He remembers how easily he could hurt him. Or perhaps... how well he could protect him. He leaves the body of his dragon with one final goodbye, then takes a horse from Gil’ead and races back to his castle.

Morzan isn’t sure whether he managed to return before the news of his betrayal, but Murtagh has not yet been taken to Uru’baen when he returns. He’s not sure he has ever heard better news. Except, perhaps, hearing that Selena is not there, in Uru’baen herself. Apparently, during his absence, the Black Hand took up doing missions directly from the king. This concerns him, but he has a different priority right now.

Murtagh follows his father gratefully a soon as he gets back. Dutifully restraining his questions, he settles in the saddle of a fresh horse in the stables, and they’re both off within the hour. The journey is arduous on account of Murtagh’s age, injury, and the limited stamina of the horse. Morzan pushes as hard as he dares. For what it’s worth, covering their tracks is much easier when traveling by horse as opposed to dragon, but that thought aches, so Morzan casts it aside.

Murtagh is subdued during their journey; he picks up on his father’s pain and anxiety. Although they have not seen their pursuers, they are most certainly out there. Without any Forsworn left to pursue them, the Ra’zac seem their most likely enemies. For better or for worse, Galbatorix already knew the location of the Varden, information Morzan was privy to, so he knows the way to Farthen Dur.

Morzan tries to assuage Murtagh’s fears when he noticed them, but it’s hard to do under the weight of his own stress. He hadn’t had the chance to recover from the loss of his partner either. The pain and paranoia keep building up inside him. One night, Murtagh approaches him cautiously and asks slowly, “Where is your dragon? Shouldn’t he be coming with us?” Morzan simply starts crying.

Morzan feels enormously guilty, revealing his vulnerability when Murtagh already feels so afraid, but suddenly Murtagh crawls into his lap and hugs him, murmuring, “It’s okay...” He continues to spill out little encouragements and Morzan easily recognizes that Murtagh’s just repeating what he himself has told him when he was upset, but it eases the pain in his heart. To know that his son, who he cares for immensely, cares about him in return, touches him. He knows, then, that even though it will take time, he will recover from all that has happened. He needs to, for Murtagh’s sake, for his dragon’s... and also for his own.

Returning Murtagh’s embrace, he declares how much he loves him, over and over, until they’re both giggling from the silliness of it. Giggles turn to shrieks as Morzan ambushes him with tickles as his tears dry on his cheeks. Morzan sleeps better that night than he had since Gil’ead.

The journey continues to take its toll, however. They see the Ra’zac for the first time the next day, mounted on the Lethrblaka far in the distant sky. They don’t seem to know their location, but their mere proximity causes their desperation to spike. Murtagh buries his head in his coat and Morzan hunches over him protectively. Their stops grow less and less frequent as Farthen Dur grows nearer.

One night in the valley leading to the mountain, this proves not enough. Luckily, from having to work with them for ages, Morzan knows more of the Ra’zac’s capabilities than most. He knows they’re undetectable by magic, so he sets up other precautions. And so, when Murtagh screams in the darkness, a single shout of “Brisingr!” has a huge, unlit bonfire flare to life instantaneously.

The Ra��zac shriek and cower in the sudden light. One drops Murtagh from where it tried to lift him from the ground and Morzan shoves him back, further from harm. With Zar’roc, Morzan, manages to wound that Ra’zac quite badly before it can recover from its shock. The other, however, launches an attack as soon as it regains its wits. The following contest is fast and savage. Only lightly armored, Morzan takes several blows before he can injure it enough to drive it away with its partner.

The only fortunate thing about the conflict is that the Ra’zac had to abandon the Lethrblaka to sneak up on them and would likely have to backtrack to them before they could follow them again. Pausing for nothing, including healing his own wounds, Morzan grabs Murtagh, mounts their horse, and takes off. He feels Murtagh shivering with fear in his arms, but they can stop for nothing now.

The final push is agony. The untreated wounds keep Morzan in constant pain. Their horse froths at the mouth and staggers with increasing frequency. Murtagh grows restless in his terror, squirming, trembling, and crying. All the while the Ra’zac creep closer and closer in the sky closing in on them, pinning them in this dead-end valley. Caving under panic and despair, when Morzan finally begins to think that he’s doomed them both to death with this desperate venture, Brom rides out of the undergrowth to meet them.

Morzan could weep. He’s never been so happy to see someone in his life. Brom’s talking rapidly, saying something about how he got a report that the Ra’zac had been sent on a hunt and were seen closing in on the valley and he had hoped it could be them, but Morzan barely listens. He’s beckoning them, saying something about a faster way to Tronjheim, as Morzan dismounts with Murtagh. He steps forward and Brom cuts off as he presses Murtagh into his arms. He takes him reflexively, but his jaw drops when Morzan steps back. “What...?”

“Please, take him. The Varden is the only place he can be safe now, you know that. Please, keep him safe. For me.” “But you-” “I can’t go with him! It would only put him in more danger! The Varden will never accept me, you know that. You know what they would do with me. He doesn’t need that. And there are many who would use him to get to me; I won’t put him at that risk! There’s nothing left for me... He has to go with you.”

Murtagh doesn’t understand everything he said, but his expression contorts in distress under the dawning realization that he intends to leave him. Murtagh starts to writhe in Brom arms, trying to escape, reaching out and calling for Morzan. Brom keeps him in place, and asks, “What will you do?” Morzan mutters, “Find some place to die, I suppose,” and when Brom sees the defeat in his eyes, his heart breaks.

Morzan takes two more steps back and Murtagh starts fight harder. Tears spill down his cheeks and he thrashes within Brom’s grasp as he starts to beg. “Please-! Please father, you can’t- please- DON’T LEAVE ME!” Brom can’t fathom how, but Morzan keeps their gazes locked despite Murtagh’s heart wrenching screams. "Promise me you'll do this. Promise me you'll protect him." "Of course, but you..." But Morzan has already looked down.

He strokes Murtagh's hair and kisses his forehead with a sad smile. Murtagh snatches his hand fiercely. "Be good, okay? Always remember that I love you." Then he pulls out of his grip despite Murtagh’s best efforts and another scream of “DON’T LEAVE ME!” Morzan turns away. He starts to readjust the saddle on his failing horse, but before he can mount, Brom snaps out of his daze and lunges at him. When he turns Brom fixes a twisted grip in the front of his shirt. Before Morzan can say anything, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” “Then trust me to protect both of you.” He thumps Morzan’s chest slightly with his fist and his eyes blaze. Morzan feels his throat close. “I promise,” Brom declares. Then his expression softens some, into something so painfully fond. “Besides... Your son does not deserve to grow up without his father who loves him so much.” Morzan only realizes the trap after he looks. When he meets Murtagh’s eyes, puffy and red with tears, his resolve fails. He clasps Brom hand over his chest. His lip trembles. “I’m trusting you.”

They reach Tronjheim through a side tunnel. There, Morzan finally has his injuries seen to, and Murtagh gets a well deserved nap.

Then comes the fallout. As Morzan predicted, Ajihad, the recently appointed leader of the Varden, wants him executed. For one thing, very, very few people knew that Morzan had betrayed the Empire to help the Varden, out of fear the information could be learned by a spy. So, the people of the Varden only know him from the crimes he committed in service to the Empire. They would all demand his head. The dwarf king causes another problem. Hrothgar has never loved the dragons or their Riders; he would never allow one of the Forsworn amnesty under Farthen Dur.

Ajihad argues all this and more to Brom over the following days. Morzan had been detained upon his entry to the city and Brom is left to argue his case. He points all the risks he had taken in the past years to inform on the Empire to the Varden, and how he had undermined his own tasks from Galbatorix to weaken the Empire. As the days drag on, he tries changing tactics, suggesting that, after everything he’s done for the Varden, including founding the damn group, that they owe him a debt. Has he not earned some trust and respect here?! Let him have this!

Nothing sways Ajihad. Brom can tell that he actually agrees with many of his arguments, yet he simply doesn’t find them enough. And so, on the last day Ajihad is willing to discuss this before arranging Morzan’s execution, Brom pulls out his trump card. He brings Murtagh.

Now, Brom has always known Murtagh to be a kind and gentle soul, so it shocks him when he starts with a tirade. Murtagh stands up in his chair and berates Ajihad for being mean and stupid. He tells him that he hates him and says a couple of words that Morzan would not have liked. Ajihad takes everything stoic as stone until Murtagh eventually runs out of steam and falls back into his chair.

Then he starts telling stories about his father, everything Morzan would do for him back at the manor, how he would play with him, tell him stories, teach him new things, how he would protect him from Selena, how he helped him when he was hurt, and everything else. As Murtagh shares all the reasons he loves Morzan (interspersed with some insults to Ajihad), Brom is reminded of how he felt watching the two of them after Murtagh was born. How he felt seeing Morzan’s change and the little boy that caused it.

It might not have worked if not for Nasuada. Murtagh reminds Ajihad of her. His daughter is a year younger, but they’re both fierce, loyal, and loving. As he thinks of her, he can’t bring himself to destroy the last family Murtagh has left, even if it is the most strategic thing to do. After a long suffering sigh, Ajihad declares that if he ever has reason to regret this, he’ll pin the entire thing on Brom’s head. “Deal,” Brom agrees immediately.

Ten minutes later, Morzan’s cell opens and he looks up to see Brom standing in the doorway with Murtagh riding on his shoulders. They both wear identical, wide, self satisfied grins. “Hey, guess what?” Brom says.

For my own sake, I’ll stop there. I’m not sure what I’d do with the rest of the au anyway.

It occurs to me that this could lead directly into a Eragon and Murtagh role swap as well, with Selena having conceived Eragon either with Morzan right before he took off after the egg or with some other man in Uru’baen. Eragon would be raised in the Empire and Murtagh in the Varden and when their dragons hatch, Eragon is the one enslaved, but that’s a whole nother beast. It could also follow more closely to canon with Murtagh eventually being kidnapped and taken to Galbatoix. I like the added angst levels of being forced to fight the people he grew up with, but I don’t know. This is already by far the longest post I’ve written.

Spare me.

#eragon #inheritance cycle #morzan #brom #selena #murtagh #jeod #ajihad #bxm #morzan au #role swap au #which if it wasnt obvious was morzan and selena #please reblog i put so much work into this #in case ur wondering #this is 7.2k #*marge simpson meme* i just think hes neat!

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itsediadmlove · 5 years

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Endgame................

I’ve never believed I had any right to be angry at GRRMartin for the endgame he was going to provide us, nor about the time he took on writting, I’ve always believed ASOIAF to be his creation and should be so until the very end, and I still do. I’m neither writting to put any blame on the Ds about such a thing as the endgame. Yet, despite of the direction the story finally took I believe I can put some blame on them, again not for the outcome but for the shit they have made beyond that.

D&D: There are several things I’m more than willing to blame them about.

1- The way they spent HBO money and OUR time. Again this is not about the story itself but the way they organized this season. We all knew there were only 6 episodes left and a full lot of shit to do, so things being rushed coud be anticipated. Apparently (cause I don’t know) they were given the chance to make a 10 episodes season and they choosed not to because they thought it wasn’t needed, and they were maybe right and still what they did was absolutely unsatisfying. Why? For me it’s pretty simple, they didn’t gave themselves enough time to build up things the right way. But the truth being said, even if they had 10 fucking episodes they would have messed up. The problem was not the amount of minutes this season but how they used it, at some point they missed the concept of the show they were running. GOT/ASOIAF can be setted in a medieval fantastic world, it can be an epic story, but what it has always been is a political thriller. Yet those dickheads choosed to spend 1/3 of the remaining onscreen time (and probably 2/3 of the budget they were trusted with) in fucking long battles (if KL destruction can even be called a battle). As far as I remember, the longest battle that have taken place in the books was when Stannis attacked KL, in the books I remember it took like 6 chapters (3 of them were Sansa’s who wasn’t even in the battle), readers felt disappointed about how shitty the battle of the blackwater was back in season 2, yet we understood the show’s timetable needed to be done with it quickly and the budget was the one of a TV show with a huge amount of characters so we wern’t very bothered by it. GOT/ASOIAF have never been about battles, those are things that just happen and it’s awful yes, but have never been the main core of the story and yet they spent such a huge amount of time on them when the show had so little time to get a closure,I REPEAT MYSELF 1/3 of our time, I believe the most of the money for what? Two fucking long battles which were not amazing at all (Drogon blowing up KL was beautiful yes, but never worth 45 minutes of my time). SO NO, IT’S NOT THINGS WERE RUSHED BECAUSE OF THE TIME LEFT, THEY WERE RUSHED BECAUSE THEY BETRAYED THE ESSENCE OF THE SHOW THEY WERE RUNNING BY SPENDING TOO MANY TIME IN SOMETHING THAT DOESN’T MOVE THE STORY LINE FURTHER AND EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER ARC PAID FOR IT.

2- The broken trust. This 2 morrons were given the chance by the very GRRMartin to be the first to deliver the endgame of the most intriguing and complex story I’ve ever watched or read. They had a responsability toward him and again they failed. THE FUCKING FINALE WAS ACTUALLY LEAKED. I mean, this on itself is an insult to the kind of show they were supposed to do, a treason to all the time GRRMartin spent on writting his books. It’s not what the endgame was, to be frustrated about how life works it’s granted on GOT/ASOIAF. But letting it to be leaked, not just one episode, but all of them... Letting the more discussed, argued, especulated show in history end to be leaked is something I can’t forgive them for.

3- Setting things up that never paid off: I just felt that every single camera focus, political conflict... Was set for nothing... GOT has never been like that, the truth was hidden by the scrypt but told on how the show was actually plaid. Never got a Sansa/Cersei/Dany display and, no matter who of them you stand, just that was frustrating. Non epic dialogues, instead we got 10 minutes of council unimportant small talk (not even about politics) and brothel joking (THE FUCK???). Even if someone tries to say something of the like that it was all to subvert expectations all of that was ruined because they let the fucking endgame to be spoiled. It felt that it was all for nothing but fuck us, and if it was that way well, then it was all for fan disservice which is even wworse than fan service because no one gets satisfied about it. Tenth of minutes of threats, angsty looks, anticipation, political moves, drama, plot, build up made garbage which actually means that the most true moments to the show were battles which is just..................................................................................... ehem. This season battles became what were never meant to be and the rest of it was just nothing at all.

Now, enough with the D&D criticism, I don’t want to go any further and the cast was amazing: Emilia really got me this season, she is way better of what I ever thought her to be, magnificient work for you, Sophie as good as always, Kit you did all that could be done with just as little as they gave you (your BoW sequence while running in the courtyard was amazing and never expected less since the BoB), Lena my only complaint is that I missed you as much as Jaime missed Cersei (Cersei may be the one character that was better in the show than in the books; the scripts plaid their part but so you did)... And so on. You did amazingly all along and YOU can be proud; you all were the best part of it.

Let’s go to GRRMartin. As I said above I’m ok with the ending being such, not the one I would have picked but well, I dont get to chose, isn’t it? I’ve always been amazed by just how realistic the story was, how cynical you are yourself, how complex every character you designed has been and how you brought it together to make a story that made sense, a story that was always able to make you expect things that never happen and yet, with the given time, would reveal to go in a far more logical way making you understand, accept and keep going with it... Maybe I am wondering because I know I would never get a further explanation, clue or hope, but for someone who have always remained true to pracmatism, realism and individualism of his characters there are a few things I actually can’t understand, not as a reader/watcher, nor as a political scientist.

Things I can understand:

-Jon going to the wall: I guess Grey Worm demanding it was true to Grey Worm’s character, he did bullshit for 2 seasons, and actually doing the very same mistake as Robb or even worse (he fell in love with a dangerous and unstable mass murderer who was ready to burn his family alive, or at least, that is what the show told us). He deserves it for knowing nothing and yet managing to forget the half of it. Yet, if Grey WWorm leaves with the unsullied... Why would he carry on his sentence... This is GOT but well, as the show putted it, it makes some sense for him to carry his sentence to the end, but George, book Jon is not this kind of honorable man who goes for honor but a dutifull bastard able to betray every single oath he once took for the greater good. Good luck pulling that off.

- Dany dying: Again, Dany falling to her extremely dark side has been very foreshadowed in both the books and the show, she has done horrendous things, a lot of people has, my personal problem with her is that, half of the times, such cruelty was absolutely unnecessary. Yet Dany stans do have a point; Dany suddenly falling for that side of her coin just because a few persons that were close to her died and people not cheering for her was extremely poor. That woman who (unwillingly) killed her husband and unborn baby, led a bunch of ill, old people as well as children through a dessert while watching them die... Going nuts for such childish reasons is pittysome for her character. Most of your character have always been grey, even the ones we perceived as evil were given the chance to prove their humanity, even while doing terrible things, they had the chance to be sympathetic to us, and we were given the chance to know the most of them and agree even with some of their worst accomplishments. This season Daenerys (who I repeat I haven’t liked for 4 seasons already) was definitely going to go dark, but she was deshumanized while doing it, in a way that was impossible to understand and yet hard to call madness. I hope you do better about her because I want to think that it was all Ds’ fault (I’ve had a hard time deciding who to blame about this) giving her to much screen time and yet being unable to make us understand wtf was going on with her so suddenly (there is a huge difference between being sad or angry and burning small folks from a dragon for 45 minutes, maybe 5 mins of it until realizing what she is doing, 5 mins on a dragon back is more than enough time to burn a huge amount of people, and that is reason enough not to support her as a queen). The problem is not that build up, anticipation, foreshadowing, that was done, but just how much of a villain she became to just not give a frikking damn about all this innocents life, or not expressing a single regret (what she did in the books after randomly eviscerating and crucifying alive 163 defeated persons in the main square of Meereen in front of their families until the rot enough to fall apart, yes mates, it was just that cruel).

- Grey Worm: all in him made sense; leaving (why would he stay???) wanting some punishment for his queen’s traitors... But the fact he was actually believing one of those traitors to actually carry out his sentence because said traitor promised? Because his family promised not to give him any shelter?

- Bran being king; well... I understand and I don’t. The truth being said he knows how to fucking play the game without getting his hands any dirty, when he told Tyrion that this was the main reason he went down south I just thought that he actually could do a nice job there, that is Bran for us all people.

- Democracy... bullshit: I didn’t like how it was pushed away as an option, it was almost like a joke which makes sense from a feudal lord perspective but the actual truth is quite different. Democracy never works in a non posmaterialist society; desinformation, lack of stability or knowledge, extreme supersticion... Who would believe the people from the bread riot were worthy of having a vote that would decide the future of the realm, such people are extremely manipulable as it happenned with the high sparrow, or how it is remembered Baelor the Saint, one of the worst kings the seven kingdoms ever had.

Things I can’t understand:

- BRONN AS MASTER OF COIN: Being true I don’t believe it to be your fault George, you were upset about his fate and it makes sense ( SO Ds THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING BY GIVING THE MASTERSHIP OF COIN TO A MAN WHO LITERALLY SEEMS TO NEED ALL OF HIS FINGERS TO COUNT UP TO TEN, THE SEEMINGLY MORE COMPLEX AND TECHNICALLY DEMANDING MASTERSHIP OF A RAVAGED AND BANKRUPTED REALM, I DON’T KNOW WHAT STAR WARS BULLSHIT YOU ARE APPARENTLY RUNNING RIGHT NOW BUT IF I WAS THE PRODUCER YOU WOULD GET FIRED TODAY JUST BECAUSE OF SUCH BULLSHIT).

- Northern independence... and Bran as a King: Why would the north be independent? I come from the Jonsa fandom to all of you and they were a huge amount of people there wanting it but it made no sense. It has been the very first fucking time in seasons that I’ve felt like beating Sansa. One king is peace, and in future generations, moreso with the crown working as it does now, wars between the north and the suth will start again, leading to more disasters, come on George... Does the north really deserve independence? Have they suffered more than anyone else? Some people seem to believe so but it’s not true. During Aegon conquest the north was the part of the 7kingdoms which suffered the less because Torrhen Stark kneeled on time before any battle took place. There have been 2 cultural groups that have suffered Targaryens far more than northerners and just as culturally differentiated from the andals as northerners are. Those are Dornish (Rhoynars), who are famous for resisting Targaryen rule for centuries until Daeron the good succeeded in diplomacy by marrying a dornish princess and giving princess Daenerys in marriage to the prince of Dorne. They have their own succession system (far more advanced that the rest of Westeros). Have they recently suffered less George? Because, if you are going to go with some random prince of Dorne which was never introduced (I expect you not to) that would mean that all prince Doran, Arianne, Quentyn (already happenned), Trystan, Oberyn and Sandsnakes would all be dead by then. And finally the Ironborns: they are first men, they have their own religion and culture, they suffered the first attack from Aegon the conqueror (King Harren the Black was the king of the Iron Islands) remained independent even longer than Dorne (the hedge knight short stories and their mention to Dagon Greyjoy prove me right) and their family has recently fought 2 wars in order to get it back (Balon rebellion and the five kings war). In such wars both of Balon’s oldest son died and Theon was taken as a hostage for his whole life, and in the second, castrated and tortured because of it. So George... And Sansa, why should the north remain independent while the rest doesn’t? Sansa is Bran fucking sister, she is related to him in a closer way than any other fucking lord and yet she is the only one not to accept him as King? THE ACTUAL FUCK? I mean why would anyone else remain in the 7 Kingdoms if the north doesn’t? How can any lord accept such bullshit when they are not related to him and his bloody sister doesn’t? How can anyone defend Bran as a King when he accept such a thing and still say he is unbiased or fair? His actually best lordship support comes from the fucking north! How can Bran first act as a King be accepting his authority to be jeopardize in such a way? I need you to explain it way better on the books George, I really do, because right know it feels like an experiment that would last 2 days and end with Bran and his council heads on spikes.

PLEASE PEOPLE, I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE, WHO YOU STANNED, WHAT ENDGAME YOU WOULD PREFER, IF SOMEONE GETS ANY CLUE, PLEASE JUST ANSWER THIS CALL OF HELP BECAUSE... WELL ALL OF YOU KNOW ALREADY.

#got #got ending #jonerys #jonsa #jon snow #Sansa Stark #daenerys targaryen #bran stark #arya stark

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noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth · 5 years

Text

So, I thought this episode was SO MUCH BETTER than last week’s. I didn’t feel like I was getting whiplash scene to scene. Jon’s still MIA as a character -- and there were several things I would’ve liked to have seen that didn’t happen -- but otherwise this was pretty good, especially after the travesty we were forced to experience last week.

None of this is order, it’s just my thoughts as they come...

First of all ... I’m still slightly hesitant about political Jon because I’m always hesitant about committing to a theory, but I’ve never felt more certain than I have during the “Who’s manipulating who?” moment. Holy shit, was that on the nose or what? Sansa’s reaction tipped it over the edge for me. I think we’ve been cut out of Jon’s POV so entirely in order to make political Jon a giant twist and that’s annoying as shit but hopefully that bullshit will be over next episode and my boy can come back. The only moment he felt like himself was his reunion with Tormund and Edd.

But back to the library scene with Sansa and D/ny. What a good scene! I know people worried they were going to bond or Sansa would come around to D/ny’s side, but instead we got Sansa being courteous and smart, cottoning on to Jon’s game (if she doesn’t already know), and still remaining firm on the issue of the North’s independence.

I also loved Sansa’s reunion with Theon, both because it was so heartfelt and emotional, and because seeing D/ny’s reaction to one of her supposed allies pledging himself to the Starks and Sansa specifically? Oh boy.

And D/ny! Look, people accuse me of hating D/ny but no one hates D/ny more than the idiots writing her, so it was actually refreshing to see her not being such a complete dumbass this episode (even if only because she was following Jorah’s advice). I was rereading old fanfic of mine and in it, I am remarkably generous to D/ny compared to how the show depicts her. Like, she is actually capable of being charming. I also tbh think she’s not wrong about Tyrion being a bad Hand, and think she should promote Jorah over him, so I was with her on that one. ANYWAY. It was good to see a little bit of that from her this week -- just enough, I assume, so that casuals are shocked when she does something terrible like abandon the battle next week.

Her reaction to Jon’s parentage was GOLD. The dawning HORROR in her face. Wow. J/nerys is truly dead.

Not sure how to read Jon’s reaction to her reaction though. Disappointment? I think he knows who what she is but I keep wondering if maybe he keeps hoping that she’ll prove him wrong at some point. I think he realizes he’s stuck with her, so he wants to imagine she might not be so bad. Maybe this time she’ll realize what’s actually important. Maybe this time I won’t feel like I’ve brought a tyrant into my own home. But she always disappoints.

(Note also that this is the first time he calls her D/ny since kneelgate -- the moment he’s telling her that he’s got a better claim than her. Would’ve been a good moment to start “my queen”ing her but instead he appeals to her humanity? Her feelings for him? Instead of her pride. Interesting.)

I can’t believe Jon told her about his parents before the rest of his family though. What the fuck. (Yes it’s possible he’s already told them but it would be so fucking annoying for them to do that offscreen.) Also, why would he pick that moment? IDK maybe he had a reason, maybe he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’m also so depressed that we’re not really getting any insight into how he’s reacting to the news, other than trying to avoid his aunt like the plague.

I thought this episode did a really great job of just kind of showing us people getting ready for the battle of their lives. The scene with Davos, Gilly, and the little girl was adorable. The knighting of Brienne was a truly incredible scene, one of the show’s best ever, and Podrick singing was beautiful. The montage of people was sweet -- and I know people think that Theon and Sansa’s inclusion means something romantic is happening with them, which it might be, but I’m not sold either way. That said, I did recently say I hoped some kind of Theon/Sansa/Jon love triangle pops up so we get some jealous Jon up in here and not just jealous Sansa. Maybe my wishes have been answered? I’m lowkey into Theonsa so I don’t mind, but absolutely no part of me thinks it’ll be endgame or Sansa’s great epic love or anything like that. (Sorry Theon. I think he’ll probably die protecting Bran.)

Gendry and Arya was odd. I’m not mad about it, and I’m fully prepared to admit that a lot of my reaction was related to seeing Maisie Williams (somewhat) naked because to me she is a BABY. Again, this isn’t something I’ve ever really shipped, but I have no problems with it and think it can be cute, so I’m happy if the shippers are happy. Part of me does think this means Gendry’s doomed though.

I will say that I never used to think Gendry/Arya would happen because I thought if the show knew it was coming, they wouldn’t have hired actors with such a large age gap. I’ve long had the same thought about Jonsa so this pretty much waved away that particular doubt. I also never thought we’d get a Jonsa sex scene but now that we’ve gotten a Gendrya one, it feels a lot more probable.

The trial scene was a bit of a letdown, wasn’t it? I loved Brienne standing up for Jaime and I loved Sansa putting complete faith in Brienne, but that’s about it for me.

Missandei and Grey Worm discussing what they want to do after the war!!! It has LONG been a hope of mine that they don’t spend the rest of their lives serving D/ny so you can imagine how happy I was to hear them making plans. (Wonder how D/ny would feel about...) That said, it makes me think at least one of them is going to die (probably Missandei) but I would be overjoyed to be wrong.

What am I forgetting? We saw Ghost! For two seconds! Doing nothing! But okay, at least he exists.

It’s insane (and disappointing) to me we didn’t get ANY one-on-one Stark scenes or even all-Stark scenes. I know this is part of keeping Jon inaccessible to us or whatever, but him not saying anything to Sansa before the battle is crazy to me. Or Arya for that matter! Even if they’re both out there fighting, he’d want to speak to his baby sister!

I have to assume that this means we’ll be getting some of those conversations next week ...... or all the Starks are surviving, except maybe Bran, so the show’s not bothering to set us up for any farewells.

All in all, a good episode imo. Bryan Cogman came through -- even if we didn’t get any of the yummy Jonsa we expected, we got a lot of other good stuff, and I’m hoping when the show stops trying to keep political Jon and dark D/ny under wraps (i.e., hopefully in the next episode), things will improve even more.

Also, several of the Chekhov’s guns that were set up last episode kinda didn’t come up again, especially the food crisis and the dragon’s eating habits, but I’m feeling pretty confident they’re going to go off eventually. Last week they were setting up the pins but it might take a few episodes before they knock them all down.

#got spoilers #episode thoughts #got season 8 spoilers

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strickland527 · 5 years

Text

Random WIP

This was a fever dream from a Jon chapter to a story I’m probably never gonna get to, but since @muttpeeta called me out (lol) I feel like I gotta post something. It’s unbeta’d but I kind of like it? Meh.

The room was filled with people, all sets of eyes on him as he was marched, bound on the wrists by rope, led by a knight wearing golden armor and a white cloak, dragging him further into the room. Slowly the crowd parted and he saw the end of the room, the Iron Throne and the King, perched on it. His hair was long and white, his nails long and yellow, his eyes purple and mad, alight in anticipation.

When Jon was close enough to the throne, he was pushed to his knees in front of the king. As he composed himself he saw the scorched marble floor under him. There was a thick metal loop sticking out from the marble, black from the fires that preceded him.

“Bastard,” the Mad King bellowed, “look at me, bastard!”

Jon raised his head to meet the Mad King’s mad gaze. There was nothing but insanity in it.

“They call you a dragon? Hah! What you are is nothing but a worm.”

The crowd laughed at that, but it was a thin and frightened laugh, not true in the slightest. The laughter was covering up the fear lurking just below.

“I, Aerys of the House Targaryen, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Protector of the Realm sentence you, Jon Snow, a bastard born of rape to a whore mother and supposedly a dragon, to die.”

Jon said nothing to him. He couldn’t find the words, his mind was a scramble of emotions and words. All that emerged were breaths, each more ragged than the one before.

“BURN HIM!”

He was tethered to the metal loop in the ground. An old man came to him and doused him in foul smelling oil. The crowd around him started to titter in anticipation. A Kingsguard approached, torch in hand. He tossed it onto Jon and stepped away. Jon closed his eyes.

The flames lit, instantly. Jon braced for the pain, for the searing that would work into his mind, body and soul. After a few tense seconds, in which his whole body was clenched as tight as a bow, Jon opened his eyes. The flames were all around him. His whole body was on fire. But the pain was absent.

It was then that he heard the voice, sweet and feminine and familiar, “Fire cannot kill a dragon,” she uttered, in his mind.

His clothes were burned off, but the flames didn’t hurt. They felt like a thousand warm tongues on his body, licking and soft. The rope that bound him in place was now ash at his feet. He was as naked as the day he was born. The only discomfort was a slight pain in his left shoulder, a dull stabbing sensation.

Chattering in the crowd, which started as a distant din, was now a loud roar. People were yelling, their words lost to his ears. He looked up, towards the throne. Towards the king.

“Impossible,” the old man muttered.

Jon stood, flames still on him. He took a weak and shaky step towards the throne. No one stepped to stop or help him. But he refused to fall. Instead he took another, less shaky step, then another. By the time he reached the foot of the throne, he was faced with the seven Kingsguard, their swords drawn, eyes wide with wonder.

“Kill him!” The Mad King screamed.

They didn’t listen. They stepped aside. He walked up the throne, with each step the iron monstrosity cut into his bare, flaming feet. His blood trailed up to the Mad King, who had pushed himself as far back into the throne as possible, his eyes full of fear.

“Impossible,” he muttered again.

“Fire cannot kill a dragon,” Jon said, finding his voice for the first time.

He held open his arms, the flames still burning on him, and hugged the King, tightly. The clothes on the old man caught fire, instantly, causing a blood curdling scream. The King pushed past him, trying to escape his grasp. As he did, he fell down the steps of the throne, coming to a rest close to where Jon was set on fire.

After some time of writhing on the floor in pain, screaming nonsense, Aerys Targaryen stopped moving and let out a final shaky breath. A few minutes later, he was gone leaving only ash and bone and smoke.

With the Mad King dead, Jon looked at himself. The fires were extinguished. He was unharmed. The places where the throne had cut into him were healed. The flames had seemingly cauterized them yet left no scars.

He looked around the room. All eyes were on him. They were looking at him in awe.

“The King is dead,” a herald said next to the throne. “Long live the King.”

One by one they knelt to him.

“Long live the King!” They echoed.

He saw her, finally as she walked through the kneeling crowd, towards the throne, towards him. Her long silver hair loose and flowing behind her. The white dress she wore was simple, plain and stunning. She stopped at the foot of the throne and knelt, reached into the pile of ash and removed the Mad King’s crown. Then, she stood and walked up towards him. Her lilac eyes shone with love as she stared at him.

It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

When she met him, he bowed to her, fully. She placed the crown she had taken from the ashes of her father on his head. He picked his head back up and looked at her. Meeting his gaze with a cocked eyebrow, she looked him up and down, smiling at his naked form. He laughed.

She grabbed his face with both of her hands, bringing him in for a deep kiss. Tongues and lips and teeth, clashing in a clumsy dance of desire. He was set alight with her love. It burned in him hotter than the fire.

Gasping for air, he broke from her lips.

“He was no dragon,” she said, “less than the shadow of a snake.”

The roar that followed shook the room, dust falling from the ceiling, sending the people in the room screaming.

His world went black.

The breeze that woke him was familiar and comforting. A cool summer’s breeze that carried the smell of winter on it. He opened his eyes and was in the godswood in Winterfell. He was home.

It was dusk, the light from the fading sun was filtering through the canopy of the trees around him, causing the branches to cast dancing shadows on the grass beneath them.

He tried to move, but found he couldn’t. He was stuck in the ground, unable to lift his feet out of the earth.

A boy, no older than eight came running into the godswood, tears streaming from his grey eyes down his cheeks. He came to rest besides Jon, in front of the giant weirwood tree.

“Please,” he pleaded, on his hands and knees, “please make me legitimate, like my brothers and sisters. I don’t want to be a bastard.”

The boy cried, his tears falling down his long face, dripping onto the roots of the tree. A breeze blew through branches, the only answer to the prayer. After a few minutes, the sobbing stopped. The boy lifted himself up and leaned against the tree, crossing his arms, hands under his armpits, knees tucked into his chest.

The look on the boy’s face was bereft. It was a familiar pain to Jon, but one that hadn’t hurt like this in a long time. He wanted to comfort the boy, but he couldn’t. The boy didn’t see him.

It was then that a crow flew down and landed in front of the boy, pecking his beak into the dirt, pulling a worm out of the ground. The boy eyed the crow warily as it ate its meal. After the worm was eaten, it looked directly at the young boy.

“King,” it squawked. “King.”

The boy chuckled at that, breaking into a small smile. The crow flew away.

A man approached then, striding towards the young boy with a soft look on his face.

“Son...” he said, when he was at the boy’s feet, “...do you mind some company?”

The boy shook his head from side to side. The man sat down next to him, lifting an arm, allowing the young boy to snuggle into him.

“Father,” he asked after some time, “do the old gods answer our prayers?”

The man sighed, his hand rubbing the young boy’s arm in a soothing motion.

“Sometimes. But even the gods can’t change everything. I find that they don’t grant my wishes as much as they guide me towards my purpose.” He paused for a moment and looked down at the boy. “Why, son, did you ask for something?”

The boy hesitated and nodded that he did. After a shaky breath, he said, “Yes. I asked to be legitimate, like Robb and Sansa and Arya and baby Bran.”

The words pained the boy, because he turned his face and buried it into the man’s chest.

“Oh, son.” The man took both arms and enveloped the boy in a big hug, holding him as sobs wracked his body. When they subsided, the man took the boy’s face in his hands, wiped the tears from his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on his brow. “We are not all that we may seem. Sometimes we are so much more.” He then took the boy back against his body in a hug, one hand gently rubbing his back, the other on his head.

The man’s words triggered a powerful emotion in Jon. They were hauntingly familiar. This was a memory of his, it ended with his father carrying him off to bed. The next morning he would awake to a toy dragon on his side table. The note it came with said ‘You are so much more. —Father’.

He went to reach out to the man and boy, but he couldn’t. As hard as he tried, all the could manage was a gentle moving of a branch.

It was not long before the boy had cried himself to sleep against his father’s body. The man stood gently, with the boy sleeping in his arms. He turned back towards the weirwood, the sadness etched all over his face.

“Oh, Lya. What have I done to our boy?”

He turned again and walked back towards the castle.

Jon was crying, he had been for some time. Thick and red, the tears fell down his face. He was rooted in place, yet every part of him wanted to run to his father. It was as if the earth had claimed his feet, he was a tree in the wood.

“Father!” He screamed.

The man turned and looked right at him. His gaze bore into him.

“You are not a bastard,” he said.

“I am a bastard!” he bellowed back, angrily. “ I am what you made me!!”

The man shook his head sadly. He turned, the boy still in his arms and walked out of the godswood, leaving him amongst the trees.

The world went black, again

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cairavende · 7 months

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Worm Arc 8 thoughts:

. . . . .

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

WHAT THE FUCK! WHERE DO I EVEN START? WHAT DO I EVEN SAY?

I just. I . . . WHAT?!?

Ok I'm just diving in, it's probably gonna be chaotic (hey, just like the Endbringer fight!)

Someone needs to give Scion like, a beeper. Get a tinker on that to make it an extra good one. Maybe it should be in bracelet form so he can't lose it? Fuck it, just give him an ankle monitor as well so we know where he is at all times.

I adore the shit out of Dragon and really wish she didn't run a fucking prison so I could like her even more.

Legend is not great at the pre battle pep talk. He doesn't lie to them sure, but that sure doesn't seem to help moral at all. Sometimes you just gotta go "lets fucking do this!" and start punching gods ugly middle child.

Seriously, he just keeps bringing the mood down. They probably shouldn't have let him do this after his villain "not boyfriend" died fighting an Endbringer, it clearly tore this man apart. (No this is not canon as far as I know and I don't expect it to be. But I took this "I have seen too many good heroes,” he paused for a fraction of a second, “And villains, too, die because they let their guard down." and just fucking ran with it. He paused cause he was chocked up because his rival that had incredible sexual tension with him got killed fighting an Endbringer. It's canon for me.)

Sucks to be Newfoundland I guess. Or sucked. Cause it ain't there no more.

I wonder if we get full death numbers for all the Endbringer attacks ever. Or even just how many attacks there have been. Obviously Kyushu and Newfoundland were extreme causality events. But Kyushu was Leviathans 6th attack, so they had at least started to learn how things work. It seems like the first few Endbringer attacks would have been massive. I dunno, I like numbers and I'm curious.

The fight holy shit it just keeps going. Everyone is fucking dying and it just keeps going. Skitter is doing her best in all of it and I'm proud of her. Providing medical aid when she can't figure out what else to do. She's a good egg. Look for the helpers.

Tattletale just gets washed off a roof and I have to spend the rest of the fucking arc waiting to learn if she is ok! I was worried about my baby! Not Skitter, my other baby. No not Bitch, the third baby.

Early on I said "throw Clockblocker at him". And while that didn't exactly happen I am glad that I had the right idea. Too bad they didn't use the timestop grenade after that instead of before though, could have just stuck him in time for a few years. Kicked the can down the road as it were.

Look at Skitter being the one to get someone to save Clockblocker too. Everyone is there but she is the only one that noticed he was drowning. She is very good at seeing the details. Saving his life is a fair trade for the whole bug thing at the bank.

At least a lot of the Nazis croaked during the fight. That's a small bonus.

Of fucking course Magic Stick Batman tried to plan this all so he gets to have the big final fight and be the hero. Let a bunch of people die to do so. No surprise at all, this guy has been an asshole since day 1.

On the note of him though, more like "Armmaster" now! Eh? Ehhhhhhh? Cause, cause see, Leviathan ripped off his arm. So now he only has one arm. Instead of two. An 'arm' instead of 'arms'. See? You get it.

AND THEN WE GET SKITTER GOING BACK IN TO THE SHELTER TO FIGHT LEVIATHAN 1 ON 1 TO SAVE CIVILIANS. "Which left me only one thing to do. I had to be better than Mr. Gladly." FUCKING LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT MY AMAZING DAUGHTER! SHE IS THE BEST OF US!

AND THEN SHE TORE LEVIATHAN A NEW ASSHOLE! LITERALLY!

And then he just fucking breaks her back and she starts to drown.

AND THEN! AND THEN AND THEN!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING BITCH! BITCH PULLS HER OUT OF THE WATER RIGHT BEFORE SHE DROWNS! JUST COMES OUT OF NOWHERE AND SAVES HER GIRLFRIENDS LIFE!!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

And then all the dogs die. And I got very sad. And very mad.

Fucking Scion finally shows up, the last two dogs die after he gets here but he doesn't really try to move fast enough to save them. I spent like 10 minutes just swearing up a fucking storm at this guy for not coming sooner. I'm pretty sure the Endbringers are his fault anyway. Fuck this prick.

And after all this Skitter has to deal with being cuffed up in a hospital! WTF guys. Rude.

I really feel like they should just pass some laws to prevent capes from suing hospitals during events like this so the hospital staff can actually talk to people. Seems like it would make things a shit ton easier.

Panacea is in love with her fucking sister isn't she? God dammit girl. You are definitely going to end up as a villain and a really fucked up one too.

I fucking LOVE that Taylor escaped the handcuffs by using her bugs to get a key and everything! She is so fucking clever, I love the shit out of her.

Sophia is Shadow Stalker I FUCKING CALLED IT! FUCKING HA! (See Arc 6 thoughts). Also more proof that the heroes are shitheads.

I loved watching Tattletale absolutely god damn CLOWN on Armmisser. Uses his password to get priority access. Just completely reveals all the shit he pulled. Fucking Legend laser blasts him when he tries to attack her, amazing. I will never not love to see this man get clowned on.

BABIES BREAKING UP? EVEN IF JUST FOR A CHAPTER? NO!! BABIES BE FRIENDS FOREVER!

The dogs names carved into the monument. Just. Fuck. I cried. A lot. They were the bestest puppies. They were brave. They were strong. They were good. They mattered.

Interlude 1 thoughts - I loved getting some Lisa PoV. She is possibly my favorite and getting to see her power from her perspective was fun.

Interlude 2 thoughts - Coil is a horrible horrible human. I've established that. But oh my god I would read an entire book from the perspective of someone with his power. I love the shit out of powers and abilities like that I dunno. Just my absolute favorite.

#Worm #Worm Web Serial #Parahumans #Cairavende reads Worm #WOLFSPIDER #WOLFSPIDERWOLFSPIDERWOLFSPIDER #Rachel Lindt #Taylor Hebert #Endbringers #WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ARC FOR REAL THOUGH GOD DAMN #In addition to Sophia being Shadow Stalker I also called the dogs dying. I am less happy about being right on that one.#Brockton Bay just got even more beachfront property! Think of the tourism!#God there is so much I didn't mention. I could have written posts about every chapter if I wasn't too fixated on reading to pause to do so.#Just . . . fuck what an arc

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msdoctorwho · 6 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline, Ch. 7

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461255/chapters/33648915

Bulma was an adventurous girl; she’d been chasing after the Dragon Balls half her life by now. She was no stranger to fear or death, dragons or space. But she’d never been so afraid as when she tore through the still-smoldering remains of her own contraption to find Vegeta.

If he died, she’d never forgive herself for building it.

When he struggled to his feet and insisted he was fine, she’d never so strongly felt two opposing emotions at the same time. Fury at him for almost killing himself, and relief that he hadn’t quite managed it. But he’d passed out before she could scream at him and she’d been too busy shouting orders at the groundskeeping bots and ripping her own clothes into field dressings to manage anything else.

Between herself, her father and the Medi-bots they got him stabilized, thanks to her foresight in hosting the only Saiyan/Namekian blood-bank on Earth in the basements of Capsule Corp. It was easy enough to synthesize a continuous supply once she’d gotten an initial sample, so she stocked enough for Goku, Gohan, Piccolo, and now Vegeta. As far as she could tell, the blood of the two full Saiyans was similar enough to each other to substitute in a pinch, but had type differences comparable to humans. Gohan...well, she wasn’t sure if Gohan would be able to take any combination of human and Saiyan blood, or only his own, so she stocked twice as much for him. She’d tried to get a sample from future kid, but he’d gotten so flustered when she asked that she’d guessed he was like Goku when it came to needles, and let it drop. She would just double her demi-Saiyan supply before the androids came.

After the last of the stitches and bandages were done, there was nothing left to do but watch over him as his healing factor kicked in. She could have gone back to her work and let the ever-vigilant bots do their jobs. She could have watched the live feed from her desk. She stayed.

His body temperature continued to rise as it fought infection and rebuilt itself from injuries that her mind still argued should have been fatal. People did not come back from wounds like that. Humans didn’t. She was struck anew with the realization that he was alien , he was different. However well she liked to think she’d begun to know him, there was still so much she didn’t know at all.

She didn’t usually believe in duplicating tech not of her own invention, but she'd have given anything that night to have a regeneration tank. Why hadn’t she spent some time trying to reverse-engineer that, instead of writing lewd Saiyan limericks?

As soon as he was better, she was going to fix that mistake. He had to get better.

He definitely had what would be considered a fever for a Saiyan, but she had no idea when high might cross over into dangerously-high.

She was back to being pissed off, at herself for her incomplete knowledge of Saiyan physiology, for making the machine that almost killed him, and at him for overriding the failsafes she’d programmed to protect him from himself.

His temperature stopped climbing, so she decided against an ice bath for the moment. He was just restless, and dreaming.

The fever dreams got worse as the night wore on; he progressed to what seemed more like full-blown hallucinations. Most of what he muttered was unintelligible to her, but a few things were repeated so much she’d never forget: ‘Frieza’, ‘demon-lizard’, ‘father’, and worst of all, ‘please’.

Vegeta never said ‘please’.

He grew so restless she considered additional sedatives or ki restraints, but his chemical responses to medication were so unpredictable she was reluctant to add anything new to the cocktail already swimming in his veins, and her heart broke at the thought of putting him in restraints after a night of eavesdropping on his dreams. She felt like an intruder into his most private space, but there was nothing to be done about it. Whether he knew she was there or not, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone when he’d come so close to dying.

He was floating now, pulling at the tubes and needles, eyes half-open, lucidity surfacing in words like ‘Kakarot’, ‘vengeance’, ‘birthright’, ‘ascend’, ‘legendary’, ‘mine’, ‘mine’, ‘mine…’

If she lost control of this situation she’d have to call Goku to get him back in bed, and nothing in the universe would keep Vegeta here after that.

Panicking, she climbed bodily onto the bed with him, trying to ground him with her body weight, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, bringing her lips to his ear, pouring out words that came to her on instinct: “You’re safe. Frieza is dead. You will ascend. I’m here.” The scent of burning things was in the air as his aura scorched the sheets, and her hair. It felt like holding the sun.

Finally, the gathered power fizzled out, and they sank down against the too-hot mattress, searing her unprotected shins like black leather in a hot car. Damn it, Vegeta.

He wasn’t thrashing around anymore, but his breathing was labored, every muscle tense, completely unaware of her presence. She was soaked in her own sweat from the heat radiating off of him, but he was dangerously dry. She grabbed the wet cloth from the side table to cool his face and neck. When she leaned away to wring it out and reapply, his arms came suddenly around her with iron force. The rag hit the floor with a wet smack and she made a little “eep” of surprise as he buried his face in her neck.

This was not quite the embrace she’d fantasized about, honestly. It was more like being trapped in a sauna. Still, it seemed to calm him, and she dared hope he had turned the corner.

But even as he seemed to sleep, he kept tensing as if to brace against blows. Her ribs creaked under his strength. Goku might have to rescue themboth.

And so, in desperation, she sang to him.

She was no great talent, but music had been just another science for young Bulma to master, with pitch and rhythm its rules and elements. She applied herself diligently to the only Saiyan song she knew.

Adrift on the black ocean of fever dreams, Vegeta had been lost in his own crimson hellscape of past demons and future fears, until she arrived. A sliver of blue light worming her way into the nightmares the way she inserted herself into everything else, she told Frieza he was dead, the child he was safe, the warrior he would ascend, and himself that she was there. As though that weren’t obvious. Annoying even in his nightmares, he tried to tell himself, but even the warrior scorned him for a liar.

The black things snarled and snapped at the edges of blue, but came no further, for now. The red eyes were a promise of pain for later, and he waited in dread. Until she sang.

All of it left, when she sang. Her voice was a shock of cold water to his world on fire. A silvery low register incongruent with her speaking voice, almost a caress. And a lullaby tone...to go along with one of of the bawdiest Saiyan drinking songs ever written. Somehow, she knew all twelve verses, each worse than the last, and by the end of it his ears were burning and she’d dragged him back to himself in horror and wonder. Too drained even to cringe at how she held him like a child.

“I must be in sorry shape if you’re caterwauling at me like that,” he rasped, trying for caustic and failing with a dry whisper.

She jerked, her throat closing in relief. “Vegeta,” was all she could manage, hating herself for the catch at the end.

He just sighed, slowly turning his face into her neck. “Your pronunciation is terrible.”

She didn’t move, daren’t breathe. “My source material was, ah, pretty drunk.”

He did not need to ask which of his warriors would have been accidentally recording himself via his own scouter while deep in his cups. He wondered at the pang he felt, thinking of Nappa. Is this guilt?

She had not let go of him. “It’s a pretty great song.”

He snorted. “It’s a drinking song.” He knew he should push her away, but he didn’t have the strength.

Liar. At least admit to yourself that you just don’t want to.

She brushed matted hair away from his forehead, a whisper of touch. “But also a war hymn, right?”

“All Saiyan songs are about war.”

“ Of course they are ,” not-quite under her breath. Tentatively resting her head against his.

She went on, “But this one is all about war and conquest and this one general who can’t be defeated in battle, but full of double entendres about how he can’t, erm, win with the ladies ?”

“Yes.” His face was on fire. Well, more on fire, since he was clearly already feverish.

“Until he finally loses a battle, and the opposing general turns out to be a woman who claims him as her mate? ” He could feel her grinning in delight.

“Yes.”

“I thought it was pretty epic.”

Of course she would. Are we just not going to talk about this whole embrace thing? You know what, actually, I am fine with that.

He explained, “It’s more or less the story of how the two largest feudal city-states of old Vegetasei united and conquered the rest to become an empire.”

She was delighted. “So the greatest conqueror of Vegetasei was a woman?”

His reply was stuffy, as though they had wandered into contested territory. “She was the first , anyway. Greatest is up for debate.”

“Anyway, I liked it,” she murmured.

“You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No Saiyan who wanted to stay alive would sing a vulgar song like that in the presence of royalty.”

“Pfffft. Like royals don’t know where babies come from.”

“Woman.” How could she even now still manage to shock him?

“You’re all no different behind closed doors.” She tightened her arms as though for emphasis. “Are you, Ve-ge-ta?” If her voice had been a caress before, this was a blatant grope.

“Woman.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Let me up.”

She shoved herself upright. “No. No! Are you kidding?” Her eyes were fire. “Maybe, maybe you can get out of that bed tomorrow. I literally just put you back together .”

He made a frustrated sound. “I have to--”

She smirked evilly at him. “Here.” She handed him a plastic object.

He started at it, not understanding. Then--

Gods, no.

“There is no way--”

“Listen, you ungrateful fuck, you are lucky I didn’t cath you--” she stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose, half-turning from him.

Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good, and he eyed her warily.

“I can call my dad, if you want,” she said in a neutral tone.

At his mulish expression, she continued waspishly, “or Goku ,” picking up steam, fueled by his predictable reaction to that , “but you should probably know that I shaved you bald and put about sixty stitches in your inner thigh to keep you from bleeding to death and get over yourself already!”

He convulsed in humiliated fury, but his open-mouthed snarl died at the tears on her face. He would have argued with her until he pissed himself, or relieved himself in defiance on her floor, but her tears wholly defeated him.

In all his life, had anyone ever cried at the thought he might die? What was wrong with her, that she did?

He turned away from her as much as he was able, until it was done. Shutting his eyes, shutting her out, he heard her walk to the bathroom, flush the toilet, turn the sink on and off.

Instead of leaving, she sat next to him again. He ignored her. Just go away already.

She didn’t move again for so long he thought she’d fallen asleep. He was drifting off in spite of himself, when her hand brushed his cheek, and he hated that her touch was a cool balm to his fevered skin. “Kami, Vegeta.” she said, softly. “Maybe remember this the next time you want to do something this stupid.” She lowered her voice. “If I blow myself up again, that woman will make me piss in a bottle,” she mock-growled.

His eyes flew open. As was so often the case, he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss her or kill her. He wanted it so much he felt it in his teeth. But he was so tired, all he could do was glare.

Her other hand joined the first, cupping his face between them. It was a bit like holding an injured wild animal; she was not sure he would not bite her. She leaned closer; he stopped breathing.

Her kiss on his forehead was feather-light, as though it might hurt him, but lingering. When she pulled away, there were tears again.

He couldn’t break free from her eyes. “I care about you, you idiot,” she whispered.

He felt like he’d been shot through the chest. Again. What--

She forestalled any retort of his with her fingers on his lips. “I know you don’t want or need to hear that.”

She was so wrong, but he would never tell her, not when he couldn’t admit it to himself.

“Just sleep, okay?” she asked. A reply became impossible and unnecessary as he slipped under before she finished speaking.

Sometime during that endless night, she woke again to him grumbling about the plastic urinal.

He still refused to look at her while she dealt with it, but it was hard to stay embarrassed about what was clearly not a significant issue to her. This made him feel childish for being embarrassed, which pissed him off even more.

But then she smiled at him. “Thanks for not fighting me on this, Vegeta. I know how much you hate it.”

Just the acknowledgement of his struggle took the wind out of the sails of his fury.

It’s not like her smiles were rare. She was a disgustingly cheerful creature. But this one was his alone. Pure, no malice, no hint of mockery. Had he ever received such a gift?

She rolled her neck as she moved back toward the chair. It was no position to sleep in.

“You don’t have to play nursemaid anymore tonight,” he said.

“I know,” was all she said, yawning.

I gave you an out, woman. He snagged her wrist as she passed by, dragging her toward him, not roughly, but not giving her a choice, either.

She tried to tug it back, but even in this state he was so much stronger it was laughable. Her frown disappeared as she realized his intent.

The look on her face as she crawled over the rail was almost predatory. The animal in his blood roared a challenge, while the rest of him wondered if this might be his worst decision yet.

She loomed over him, until the scent of her skin overwhelmed him, his hands finding the back of her bare thighs.

She gasped, a breathless sound, twitching like a rabbit caught out of its den, hands digging into his shoulders.

Then she sighed and made a face at him. “Shove over. I swear, you have the shittiest timing.”

“What, have you suddenly grown a sense of decorum? You’ve been begging shamelessly for this for weeks,” his voice low, cutting. Stung by the unexpected rejection.

“Yeah, well, you had weeks to take advantage when you weren’t missing half your blood-volume. How much fun could that really be for me?” She crooked a limp finger at him, enjoying how much he hated her with his eyes for that.

“I will end you,” he responded, utterly calm. Eerily believable.

She waited for him to object as she nestled herself next to him, pillowing her head on his least-injured shoulder.

He didn’t, but he was back to furiously not looking at her again.

“Don’t freak out, Vegeta. I’m not saying ‘no,’ I’m just saying ‘how about maybe when you’re less almost-dead?’ Nothing says sexy like trying to orgasm while worrying your partner might stroke out.”

He grunted, but allowed her to lift his arm around her.

“I still have your blood in my hair ,” she groused.

He breathed her in, somewhat pleased at that.

“Ugh, only you would find that appealing.”

“Just shut up.”

“I hope you heal as fast as you claim you do, space man.”

He woke up well before her, and meant to let her sleep, but waking surrounded in the scent and feel of her was too much. His body was loudly making the case that it was fully recovered, thank you very much.

He kept trying to shift away from her lest it be obvious to her as well, but she clung to him like warship-grade adhesive.

“Stop moving so much, you’re still like 90% bandages,” she snapped without opening her eyes.

He didn’t know why, with her obvious want of him, it was such a problem for him that his body wanted her back.

Control, he supposed. He wanted total control over this rebellious facet of himself until he decided to unleash it, and not a second before.

Especially if she might say no, again.

“What is that?” he gestured vaguely in the direction of the barbaric fluids dripping into his arm, desperate for distraction.

“What is what, Vegeta?”

“Your primitive medicine still requires manual blood re-supply...that’s mine? It has my face on it.”

She made a noise of affirmation, too tired to speak.

“But those symbols aren’t my name.” He hadn’t put much effort into learning their rudimentary symbology yet, but he’d picked up enough to know that.

At this, she smiled without opening her eyes. “No, they are not.”

At his growl of irritation, she continued, “Humans have various blood types: Type A, B, AB, and O. Yours says ‘Type E’.”

She finally opened her eyes, smile broadening, to watch his reaction. “For ‘Elite’.”

His expression was just shy of murderous. “You mock me.”

She sighed, too tired to be less than honest. “A little bit yes, but mostly no. You are something else, Vegeta.”

He didn’t know what to think or say about that. “Of course I am,” he finally managed, but her light snores needled him in response.

“What does Kakarot’s say?” He couldn’t help asking.

“Hmm? Goku’s?” Her sleepy gaze met his again. “He’s ‘Type 3,’” she said, with a wink.

At that he laughed -- an honest, beautiful laugh. Its purity hurt her heart; she wondered if anyone else had ever heard it. She felt like she’d caught a star with her bare hands, and held it close in wonder.

What was this warmth blooming in his chest? Lingering fever? Or was this what it felt like, to have someone of your own? Oh, Nappa and Raditz had been loyal enough, but they’d been born into his service. It had never really been their choice, and he’d never really appreciated it, either.

She owed him no allegiance, no debt, and in fact had plenty of reason to hate him for the harm he’d caused when he first came to Earth. She owed him nothing, but offered him everything. Her loyalty. Her affection. Even a joke at her friend’s expense to please him.

The intensity of her eyes, when she moved over him again, was the blue of stars expiring, the last fierce gasp of life before the end. “I declare you fit for duty, soldier,” she breathed.

“-- modified duty,” she ground out at the flash in his eyes, “you’re not training today, jackass…”

She caught his retort with her lips. “You’re not going to have anything left for it, anyway,” she whispered into his mouth, and finally kissed him.

He was certain this was an Earthling thing, this meshing of mouths that sounded repulsive in the abstract but was amazingly intense in practice. The longer it went on the more desperate for her he felt, saved from feeling pathetic only by the needy whimpers she gave him in return.

She was careful with him, so careful. Each gentle touch was his undoing. He was completely unaccustomed to physical contact not meant to kill or cause pain. Every nerve ending was over-sensitized, almost painful, but she read his face like a map and knew when to touch and when to let him be.

She knew his hurts better than he did, having tended each one herself. She moved over him gingerly, but her weight was nothing to him.

Her touch was reverent, a feather-light stroke or kiss over every inch of skin not wrapped in gauze. She drew his hands to her, pragmatic as ever, unfazed by his uncertainty, and showed him exactly how his touch could please her.

He’d never felt anything as fine as her skin, or the silk of her hair, the heft of her breasts. In the end, she did not make him beg, but asked if he were certain, before taking him inside her as though this was a thing they had always done.

He’d thought he understood power -- what it was like to have it, and to have none at all. To cower before a monster that controlled your whole existence, or to watch planets die by your hand. He’d never felt anything like this, the power to cause such pleasure it looked like pain, to force his name from her lips, to watch her convulse and wail just for want of him and what his body could give her. He ached to be well enough to put her underneath him, to watch her writhe against vermillion silk, again and again, and he knew then he would never get enough of her.

Still jerky from her own release, she reached down to find a spot he hadn’t known existed, wrenching a cry from his throat as he shattered, lost control so completely that his aura reignited around them again. But this time, joined as they were, it knew her for its own. The blue tendrils of flame licked her skin as she laughed in delight and wonder. He forced it back into himself a breath later, shaken by how easily she'd broken him.

She collapsed onto him, and for long moments there was nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing in the dark. If his face was wet she said nothing of it, and freely gave her own tears as cover.

The next day, extricating himself from miles of gauze, he was stepping in the shower to rinse off before training when he noticed she had written on him, underneath the bandages.

No disgraceful poems this time, nothing so elegant, just the Saiyan word for “penis” in bold characters across his forearm. Her penmanship was improving, but the strokes were jagged, angry.

It would not wash off.

“Woman!” he bellowed, in such a rage that the barometric pressure shifted around the whole compound.

“Hey Vegeta, what’s up?” She asked with feigned nonchalance, as though he didn’t look one breath away from destroying the whole building.

“Remove this immediately!” He brandished his arm at her. Registering dim surprise that she didn’t flinch, that she truly had no fear of him anymore.

She was incoherent, and he realized she was crying and laughing at the same time.

“You’re unhinged!” he spat, uncomfortable with displays of any emotion, much less two that made no sense together.

She patted his wrist ineffectually. “I was so mad at you, Vegeta.”

She took a few breaths, calming down. “And myself, for underestimating your skill and stupidity.”

She wiped her eyes and stepped closer to him, the pain in her crystal blue gaze sucking his breath away. “Most of all, I didn’t know how to forgive myself if one of my inventions killed you, and I couldn’t think about that--”

My miserable life isn’t worth it, he wanted to tell her, though he never would.

She sighed. “I just remember thinking, you’d be so pissed off when you saw it that you might kill me, and how happy I’d be if you recovered enough to do it.”

“Lunatic,” he called her, without venom. Whatever this was between them, it terrified him, and for the first time he could see it was not healthy for her, either.

But then she stepped into his unwilling embrace, clothes and all, even though he was half-under the shower.

Closing the circuit between them was electric, the contact more than merely sexual. The exposed mutual vulnerability was terrifying, but for the first time since his last glimpse of Vegetasei through a shuttle window, he tasted a feeling like home.

#vegebul #vegebul fanfiction #vegeta #vegeta x bulma #bulma

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neverendinglanternstory-blog · 6 years

Text

Episode #1

The Never Ending Story – Lantern contributions, June-July 2018 I thought to myself Come on! Pick one! It doesn’t work if you don’t pick one and so I...

Was in his room walking upside down thinking of which homework to do…

Ahh! Maths I yelled, as I opened the book everything flew off the page +, _, all the symbols and words

Ahh! I screamed as I was sucked into the book. Three days later I woke up in another world…

Goblins, Ghouls, everything horrific was dancing around. It was horrible…

It was more than horrible, it was bootiful.

My stomach clenched in anticipation as I got ready to run from the fairytale-like creatures.

Hands sweating, mouth clasped tightly closed and my stomach spinning in never-ending circles I plucked up the courage to run. I took one last glance at my hellish surroundings wondering what the heck I was going to do after a deep growl rang in my ears, and with that I bolted.

Running as slow as I could I slapped my friend and brother.

Before I took one last peek at the creature’s jagged teeth that blended with it’s drool as it looked at it’s next meal, which was this creature

Or a cat! A cursed black cat. A creature that never wants to be seen!! The the black cat with the jagged teeth scrambled up the tree and flew across to the next one when it saw

A huge hippopotamaus sitting on the branch crying.

Because he was just told that he wasn’t a member of the library

His crying grew louder and he started to hiccup.

He hiccupped so loud that he fell off the branch taking the black (that is cursed) with him

Get off me pheasant cried the cat, squashed beneath the hippo

Roar It looked at both of them and laughed, then out of the bushes came a peacock.

My name is Geoff and I am the protector of the couch potato. King insect and said I rule all of what you see.

I can send commands to you and you can obey them. If not, you will be captured and you will be out of town forever…and ever ever ever.

Terrace being a gemini changed his mind and decided that they would only live because they wanted Macca’s…yum.

I have to leave town for a few days instead of forever. So they went on a boat to full an island of food where everything was half in size, “oh no” and made friends (not) with the full size animals.

Suddenly a double headed dragon appeared and swallowed the people, much to their horror. Terrace having hear the cries of the half sized people, commanded his greatest warrior Michael to appear and slay the beast.

However, Michael needed help so he summoned Poppy the peacock, Terrace’s sister to distract the monster.

As one of the heads descends to eat Poppy, Michael plunges his spear into the dragon’s chest. And she won the battle and would rule their world and would takeover the world. He couldn’t even go back , so he went to his world and his people were aliens and he tried but had to pass a battle, and he won so the king was gone. And became one of the people he tried battling, but he never won and kept on trying to win until he saw someone strong that could rule the world. So he really won and then the king’s eyes blowed and got so unkind. And they banished himforever…until something big and trust me he never seen a big coming towards him. He tried to stay calm but no and it was furry and made it a sound like this grrrl the men ran as fast until he fell. He yelled

And the monster nearly caught him but he stood and ran so fast he ran into a tree…

All out of nowhere came another man and saved him. He said “hey man, take hold of my hand” and he did and then

He got free and lived in the wild for the rest of his life. Then ? and set free

Then he saw a purple duck called Joanne. “quack, quack, quack quack quack” said the duck. The king was scared of ducks, especially purple ducks called Joanne.

“Quack quack quack, “ said Joanne again.

The king noticed something – the duck was turning into a potato. The king started hitting the duck with chopsticks. The king is a bully..

“How dare you Quack. I am the duck and you shall be punished”The the duck pulled out his own chopsticks. “By the power of chickens, I banish thee to the realm of chopsticks and sushi”

Then the duck….

Was so happy that she went for a lovely walk along the river and went for a swim and there was this pray and it was a hungry shark. “Oh no” she screamed “help me please, I beg you!” so she screamed so loud her voice was hardly gone “please I need some help

”I need my chopsticks and meat, so she went out of the water and got them. But they were shaped. One ran away in the opposite direction. I started to chase that person, but he or she was gone. I kept running in hope of finding them, but had no luck.

Then suddenly out of the blue, I heard a bush rustle, and saw a brown hat. Bird! He was scratching in the dirt looking for brown squiggling worms to eat. He realised the bird was stuck so the boy helped by digging out the dirt around the bird.

Before the bird was completely free, Whoosh! It catapulted into the sky a trail of fire burning bright behind it.But on the other side of the river an inhumane creature called The White Sister lay upon the soft pale sand, a bed of sea foam covering herself from toe to chin. But in the distance, was a man with golden wings like a fire bird. The white sister was astonished to see him approach the river and dip his wings into the salt water. White sister asked the man his wings ? tattered fabric “why are you so White?”

Well, as you have asked there is a story to my colour, she explained to him. I was always like this. I was once not human in the time of the green and roman way. My father worked miracles and to protect me from Greek soliders he made me into a ?, and that is why I am white.

He said to me that my colour will fade but may never end. Goodbye now, he said. (by the way, he liked flowers)

That flowers are his life. He needs flowers to live or he will die. One incredible day in his garden, lots of lovely flowers appeared. He was amazed and he even wondered how they got there.

I know, I will ask the people in the town. He asked everyone he knew, but no one knew anything about the flowers. Luckily, dead Fred the zombie came to save the day.

Dead Fred said Are you looking for a flower bed?

Then a living chicken came and said “no” and a goose came and said “yes”.

Then the goose went to sleep.

Then the eggs hatched and they all lived happily ever after. Not quite, said Dead Fred

We still need some soil and water and love to make …

Plants for gardens so animals can live there so they don’t die.

We live in an endless ?? but still have no love. We live in the city of love, but there is no love to be found. We live in a world of peace but haven’t heard of the meaning of peace, this world has no love and all we have is negativity.

Once there was a girl named Rebecca. She loves her family and she wished for a cute loving adorable dog, but Christmas she didn’t get that. She was very disappointed. She started to cry then she heard a bark. She looked everywhere and didn’t find it then she looked in her room she was so excited she didn’t find one dog, she found two.

She said “this is amazing” her mum and dad rushed in to see what was wrong and found her on the floor cuddled up with them. She loves Christmas ???

There was a bat who lived in a very dark cave, and enjoyed his life. Until some humans came and destroyed his cave. He had to move to another cave, but it was too bright, and it turned out great. He then found a mate and had kids and had a happy life.

Atoms and facts.

The regular atoms have 8 electrons, 8 neutrons and 8 protons. Scientists have used carbon to determine how old a baby mammoth was. She was 480000 years old!

The Marianer is the largest trench in the world, sub marines have not een to the bottom. It is too narrow and steep. It is still a mystery as to what is down the bottom.

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luvdsc · 4 years

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(1/?) hii, 🐧 anon here, back on track with very long ask to send you cause i miss you 🥺💓. i also danced to twice’s signal with my class but thinking about it, i must also look like a fish flopping around kekskswk. i sometimes felt insecure bc of being tall for a young age (am i young? idk) and only some of my friends, not always tho, it is iust like a joke but my family does. my family is also very tall, my dad is 190cm and my brother is like 2 meters (?), my mom isn’t tall, she is short - 🐧

(2/?) she is only 159cm and my baby sister is also tall, she is 2 years old but she is taller than most kids at her age and taller some of the kids older than her 😅. i never went to a concert before but if i do, being tall is definitely a benefit for me loll! i literally try to learn dances, i just watch the mv many times and copy it (only the chorus) i’m trying to learn blackpink’s how you like that, hope i can 😚. i usually visit my cousins when i was small, during summer mostly - 🐧

(3/?) hà nội is beautiful, i also love visiting it, and hội an too! my mon loves hội an, because there are many types of snacks there and it is like a paradise for me and my mom 🥰❤️. your trip to vietnam sounds amazing 🤩, it seems you have alot of fun there! to me, there isn’t much to see in sài gòn (since in sài gòn, mostly are malls) idk if you knew are not Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh and Sài Gòn are one! just the name changed, Sài Gòn is the old name of Thành Phố Hồ Chí Minh - 🐧

(4/?) i never went to Ngọc Châu Garden i think, this is actually my first time hearing this sksksk, i am embarrassed for living in Vietnam for my whole life and not knowing the restaurant 😅. I also thought my city is gorgeous too! This is my personal opinion but i think that, Hồ Chí Minh is like a modern city while Hà Nội is more ancient. omg same! my mom would get upset if we didn’t suggest anything to eat but then she cooked it and we didn’t like it, she would get upset - 🐧

(5/6and tbh, idk if i am responsible or not? cause i do sometimes but mostly not, i just do it cause i want to help out a bit, even though i helped a lot, i still get shout for being lazy 😞 but i do agree tho, like between lazy and responsible? i am not sure if i am close to my brother or not, even if he come back home, he doesn’t help me out that much, it is just like without him 😔, but i am used to that so i couldn’t complain abt anything, he helped with the dishes, but not much 😢 - 🐧

(6/6) i saw your jaemin’s fic come up omg! i will read it when i have time and i saw bang chan’s signature drawing on the title’s banner (is it call that wat?) ! the one that look like a worm and a dragon (?) my stay inner is screaming aaahhh! i hope you’re having a nice week and life is treating you well! my week are the same, stay hydrated, eat 3 meals a day and get enough rest hunny bunny 💕💕. i love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ - 🐧

✿ ✿ ✿

hello, honey bee!!!! 🌷 i love your messages, and i’m so happy to hear from you again! i missed you too!! 💕 sdfajsasjdfhj at least you know how to dance to twice’s signal!! i’m sure you looked just as amazing as tzuyu 🤩 and omg i’m positive you’re just as gorgeous and tall as weki meki’s doyeon, snsd’s sooyoung, gfriend’s sowon, and twice’s tzuyu 💝💝💝 you look like an absolute goddess!!! 💜 also oh my goodness, your dad and brother are so tall!!!! 😦 woah, i wish i was taller aksldhflkajsd pls share some of your height with me

your mom is the same height as my sister i think and omg your sister got the tall model genes too!!!! and yes! it’s such a great perk of being tall because everyone else is short and you can comfortably watch and record the concert :’) omg that’s so cool though!!! you must be able to pick up dances really quickly :o which dance was the easiest for you to learn? and i hope you’ll be able to memorize bp’s hylt quickly 💘 aah, i see! when i was younger, i used to visit my cousins out of state too, but my family and i went every christmas break 💓

i love hà nội and hội an so much! i want to revisit them both 💕 omg yeah they had yummy food there!! i also bought one of my favorite bags there, it’s like a circular rattan bag? i love it so much. do you go to hội an with your mom a lot? it was soooo much fun!!! i absolutely loved all the different places we were able to visit and all the things i got to experience! 💛 oh yes, i heard people use both names interchangeably for the city! Sài Gòn is such a pretty name, and i want to call my cat that if i ever adopt one :’)

and omg no, you shouldn’t be embarrassed! i don’t even know all the restaurants in the city i live in LOL also, since we were tourists, we had chosen places to eat that were recommended by other tourists on yelp and such, and we didn’t really know the good food places that locals would go to 😅 but the food was amazing, and i loved it! 🌸 ooo yes, that’s what i thought when i visited both cities! i really like the more ancient style since the US is all modern, so i especially loved hà nội and yeah, like you said, Hồ Chí Minh has a lot of malls, and i’m not super interested in shopping akjhdfds and LOL yes exactly!!! i see that all moms are the same :’)

i think you’re very responsible, lovebug! 💕 you’re helping out around the house, and you take good care of your sister every day, like i don’t think my mom ever trusted leaving me alone with my sister at home, but your parents trust you to take care of her even as a toddler!! 💟 also, i think all asian parents just like to yell at their kids for being lazy because that’s what happens to me and my friends too 🤧 akjsdhfljkasfdhla i think your brother sounds like the irresponsible and lazy one here 😅 you’re the one who’s doing so much :o

and omg i hope you’ll enjoy the jaemin fic!!! 💛 and oh my gosh yes!!! i was wondering if anyone would notice that little drawing ✨ i have it in the headers for jaemin, hyuck, and jisung :’) i gotta let my inner stay also show 🤩🤩 and thank you so so much, honey bee!!!! 🥺💗💗 my week is going good, and life has been treating me very well! (except it’s currently like 40 degrees celcius and i wanna melt rip) and i wish the same to you also 💘💘 drink lots of water, eat lots of yummy food, and make sure to get a good night’s sleep every night, sweetpea 🌸 ily lots!!!!! 💓💖💕💝💞💗✨🌷

#asks #anonymous #🐧 anon

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voltronsinbin · 7 years

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hc's for the paladins most memorable/passionate kiss with their s/o? when did it happen? why did it happen? how was it? how did it feel??? i must know!!!

YOU WILL HAVE YOUR ANSWER MY FRIEND

Shiro:

Most likely happened after everyone went off to bed, a few days before the big shebang with Zarkon. He’s usually still up after everyone goes to sleep anyways.

Saw you on the bridge, looking out the big window and into space. It’s where he usually ends up as well so he was surprised to see you up.

The two of you end up talking - about anything- to keep your mind off what was to come in the next few days.

He could tell you were restless, as was he, but he still worried about you more, despite he was going to be in the middle of a death battle.

You couldn’t avoid what was coming. Sure the light banter and quiet background was nice but, it didn’t get rid of what was to come.

Shiro saw you were about to bust into tears, so he pulls you in tightly for a hug, letting you sob into his chest as he plants kisses on your head.

It was probably the longest and most passionate kiss you had ever gotten from him. It was Shiro saying, “we’re gonna win, and I’m gonna come back."

And he did.

Keith:

The day he departed to go to the Blade of Marmora ship with Shiro. He was having a hard time figuring out his past, but he was glad to have you as part of his future.

He gave you a long kiss goodbye before he got onto the ship.

Skipping forward to the trials, the visions came along.

Thinking he was done, a vision of you came.

He came face to face with you, your hand on his cheek and a smile adorning your face.

Yes, he came with Shiro, and yes he wanted to see him. But he desperately wanted to hold you, kiss you. He wanted to go back home to you.

"It doesn’t matter who, or what you are Keith Kogane. Your bloodline will not stop me from being with you. This does not change my feelings for you any less. I love you.”

The moment he steps foot onto the ship, you’re right there. And at an instant you’re in his arms with his lips on yours.

He’s always had his reasons for running. Now he has a reason to stay.

Lance:

Kind of silly but one you certainly won’t forget.

Mermaids? You know they’re just myths, stories told to children.

But you weren’t expecting Lance to be rattling on about them to you when he returns to the castle after being separated with his team, although Hunk was with him. But he still desperately missed you.

Being brainwashed and forced to fight a giant sea dragon wasn’t part of his schedule. It was quite the battle. You were on his mind. A lot.

The moment he saw you he yelped, sprinted at you and spun you around and peppered you with kisses. You noticed he was acting a bit strange.

“I’M SO SORRY. I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU FOR A MERMAID.”

“….. What.”

He explains the whole mermaid thing later.

They’re real?

Yes they’re real.

Hunk:

Another silly one.

Simply put… . Giant worm.

When him and Keith had to collect the scaltrite in the giant space worm, Hunk never imagined he’d be sent on such a task.

Saving the galaxy was what he thought his new job would only involve, not diving into he gut of a giant worm.

He couldn’t wait to get out of there and hug you. You smelled of vanilla and spice, much better than what he could smell in that thing.

You felt as if you were being crushed by Hunk’s hug. Yes, it was nice to see him but… .

“Hunk you stink.”

“I know and I’m sorry but being in the stomach of a giant space worm is way worse than fighting Zarkon’s fleet. It had ACID babies!”

“Well I hate to say but there won’t be any kissing until you take a damn shower.”

Once he told you about it, no wonder he acted the way he did. Maybe a giant space worm WAS worse than Zarkon.

He had nightmares about it.

Pidge:

Once she discovered that her brother may still be a live, she was restless. Pidge had been staying up on the computer from dusk till dawn.

She was also cranky, not to just everyone but even to you, and it pained you to see how bad of shape she was in.

You decided to visit her room one night before you went to sleep. As planned, she was facing the screen, her eyes so tired and fingers tapping away.

You managed to pull her away and give her a moment of piece and let her rest her eyes.

Both of you sat on her bed and held each other. You could tell Pidge was more relaxed away from the computer.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like losing someone you love. But I love you Pidge. And if you allow it, I will do whatever is necessary, or whatever you wish of me, to help you find your brother.”

She silently cried, and gave you the sweetest kiss before the two of you laid down to rest.

The moment her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

-Mod Rikku

#ask #answer #mod rikku #scenario #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defenders #voltron x reader #shiro #keith #lance #hunk #pidge #paladins #headcanons

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sleepingfancies · 7 years

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Wait, what do the spoilers say? How does Dany die? Is it complete BS?

Oh, everything about it is bad. What terrifies me most about these leaks is that while some of it is absolute bullshit and doesn’t make any sense, other parts… actually seem plausible. Making them the most dangerous, potentially true leaks I’ve read so far. I’m putting the fates of other characters besides Dany under the cut so you may read at your discretion, or not, if you choose. And because I have no self-restraint and desperately need to vent.

Dany: Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, badass bitch of Westeros gets taken out by… drumroll… childbirth. Yep. You heard that right. Jon’s magic dick impregnates her and she winds up getting mutilated beyond repair in labor, because of course she does. So Varys takes pity on her and stabs her in the heart. Isn’t that just swell? Our wonderful Dany, our last Targaryen (let’s ignore Jon for a minute) dies via the biggest “gotcha” cliche women in medieval-based fantasy face. Oh, and post death? Her body is captured by Lannister soldiers and taken to King’s Landing to be strung up as crow fodder. And on top of that, Euron Greyjoy remarks on how she’s still fuckable even in death. A perfectly misogynistic way for the former figurehead of feminism in Game of Thrones to die. Because this is Douchebag&Dickhead, after all. Which concerns me, because this is absolutely something they’d do without book material to work off of.

NOTE!!!!: These spoilers have NOT, I repeat, NOT been proven true. They are simply the leaks I read most recently. Take these with a shot of vodka and pray they are proven fake.

Arya: This one is the most believable of all. In the very end, Arya finds Nymeria and swears off Westeros, and it is implied she returns to Braavos or another of the Free Cities, her last line being “Valar Morghulis.” It is also implied she survives and is out there being a Faceless Man, not Arya Stark of Winterfell. It’s a bit painful to imagine our little Arya has lost and seen so much she doesn’t want to be Arya anymore, but at least she finally has Nymeria.

Bran (RIP): Ah, everyone’s favorite Greenseer. Yeah, little ole’ Bran gets stabbed to death by White Walkers, Jojen style, after Meera sacrifices herself trying to save him. Fitting, right? Douchebag&Dickhead (admittedly, like the rest of us) couldn’t figure out what the hell Bran’s purpose was beyond telling Jon he’s Rhaegar and Lyanna’s son. So after that happens… well, just kill him, I guess. The kicker being that because this little shit dies and can’t warg into a dragon to save everyone else, they lose Winterfell! Again! So everyone has to retreat to the Vale or Dragonstone. Good job, Bran.

Sansa: Oh boy, this one. My homegirl Sansa eventually goes back to Winterfell and reigns as Queen in the North and Lady of the Vale (woot woot!)… beside Gendry. Record scratch, freeze frame – what? She marries Gendry? The only boy who made Arya go dewey-eyed?? Yep. According to these leaks, their “chemistry” begins in episode 4 of Season 8 (out of only 6 episodes in this season lmao) and results in them getting married, meaning they take over Storm’s End as well. Because naturally Sansa had to come full circle from marrying a supposed Baratheon who was actually a Lannister bastard, to marrying a supposed bastard who was actually a legitimate Baratheon. Apparently Douchebag&Dickhead may have totally forgotten characterization in favor of “cool twists” and “roundabout endings.”

Theon (RIP): After all that redemption arc, bonding with his sister, etc. Theon dies via axe in the chest by Euron Greyjoy. But not just randomly - he sacrifices himself so Asha Yara can escape and go to battle alongside Jon. Which… is another concerning plot, because it actually seems plausible. Theon’s arc is greatly centered on bravery - or lack thereof - and loyalty. It would be… fitting, to say the least, for him to allow Asha Yara time to escape by fighting Euron himself, even knowing he couldn’t possibly outfight him. RIP Theon, even if this is the case, you deserved better.

Brienne (RIP): Okay, so. Get a load of this bullshit. While defending the Vale (aka Sansa) from White Walkers, she gets stabbed and dies. I mean honestly how likely is it that Brienne of fucking Tarth is going to die getting stabbed by some bitch ass White Walker? You’re telling me Brienne of mother. fucking. Tarth dies the same way Bran-who-can’t-move-and-didn’t-see-it-coming does? Anyway, whatever. The leaks say she dies in Jaime’s arms, after telling him he’s a good man, a few scenes after they shared a very romantic sex scene (the only good thing about this being they might acknowledge they love each other).

Cersei (RIP): For some reason?? She doesn’t die?? By one of her little brothers as the prophecy foretold?? The prophecy that has insofar been completely correct (her children dying before her, being betrayed by a family member, etc.) Nah, instead Arya kills Qyburn and wears his face as a mask, a la Frey slaughter style, and poisons her. So Cersei is out here dying of poison when she commands the Mountain to kill Arya (sidenote: the Hound is with Arya pretty much all of this season, which is also possibly true), Cleganebowl ensues, the Mountain is killed, Cersei dies. Euron Greyjoy (who was married to her at this point or whatever bullshit that was) becomes King of the Seven Kingdoms. It worries me because Cleganebowl is almost a guarantee, and the fact that’s in this “script” which is so god fucking awful is extremely concerning but whatever. We’ll see I guess.

Jaime, Jorah, The Hound, Jon, Drogon (RIP x5): All these bitches die in the same scene, by the same fate. Lmao. Because of course they do. They fight Euron in the Dragonpit and mortally wound him, cool, and then Drogon like a little bitch spews a bunch of fire everywhere because he got fatally wounded too and the whole place starts to shake. So then Euron is like “oh by the way there’s about 2,000 pots of Wildfire under this arena so you’re fucked” and they all die in one massive explosion. I’m not joking. That’s the end. Jaime, Jorah, The Hound, Jon, and a fucking jet sized dragon die because Euron planted a bomb beneath a gladiator pit, somehow preemptively knowing the final battle would take place there. What the fuck? What the fuck.

Davos: Dude just goes home. Fuck it. He’s had enough. He’s like 70, what’s he got to lose? After Jon and co. die he’s like “you know what sounds good right now? Going home to my wife and thinking about my dead sons. Maybe throwing out these lucky finger bones” and he’s outtie. No questions asked.

Samwell: He marries Gilly, which everyone expected, so I’m sort of vibing that that’s a legitimate leak. Sam inherits the Reach, whatever, cool. Apparently when Gilly announces she’s pregnant with his child, he says if it’s a boy he wants to name it Jon. Actually a pretty sweet touch, it’s like the only part of this satan sperm of a script that has my stamp of approval.

Tyrion: Tyrion and Missandei hook up. I just… don’t ask me why. Somewhere along the line Grey Worm died and these two found a romantic spark off-screen I guess because I don’t know how the fuck they would end up together otherwise. Tyrion is the Regent and Missandei is the wet nurse (I don’t think D&D know how wet nurses work) to none other than… Lyanna Targaryen. Yep. Remember that magical Targcest baby? It’s here, it’s 3 years old, it’s a girl, and it’s on the Iron Throne. And no shade on the baby, but it reeks of bullshit. Anyway, Tyrion is given Casterly Rock to control as well as being the Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, and his last line is “if you play the Game of Thrones, little Lyanna, you win or you die.” Because that’s totally something Tyrion would say. I’m so fucking exhausted.

Bronn: The only other part of this script that has my approval? Bronn gets a little shout out at the end, when Lyanna asks who rules Dorne now. Tyrion says “one of Oberyn’s daughters, beside a man who always dreamed of owning a castle.” Way to go Bronn. You ducked the bullshit and got your goddamn castle. I applaud you, sir.

So yeah anyway if these leaks are true Season 8 is gonna be a damn mess lmao bye I’m angry

#game of thrones spoilers #got spoilers #anonymous #answered #s8 leaks #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #tyrion lannister #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #davos seaworth #theon greyjoy #brienne of tarth #drogon #jorah the andal #the hound

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