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queenofbaws · 20 days

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Hacketteers but what if we threw them into dragon riding school? 👀

catch me catching up on some not-quite-six sentence sat(or)sunday!

The day had been overcast from the start, heavy grey clouds obscuring the sun, but as the creature's great wings beat at the air, even nature itself took notice. Thin shafts of light, almost angelic in their radiance, shot down from between the rifts torn in the gathering storm. The world seemed to shake - or maybe just shiver - as it landed on the rocky shore, a mountain made of oil slicks, its scales shining sometimes black, sometimes green, sometimes colors none of them had names for.

Slowly, tentatively, the first of the students held his hand out, feeling an instantaneous bond as the dragon's molten eyes met his. It was in that moment, as though through telepathy, he knew its name:

"Brandomere Asskickeous VII."

***

"Jacob, you said you were going to take this seriously."

Immediately on the defensive, his hands shot up. He cast quick, friendly glances around the picnic table, meeting the other counselors' exasperated eyes with a grin with maybe just a touch too much mischief to come across as earnest. "I am! I am taking this seriously! Look man, you said we got to make our own characters, right? And I wanted to make sure my dragon was the one with the coolest, strongest name - everyone knows that's how this make-it-up crap works."

"Your idea of the coolest, strongest name for a dragon was Brandon Asskickeous?" Dylan set his chin on his hand, narrowing his eyes as he watched Jacob from across the table. "You should be studied, man. In a lab. Like, with a microscope or something."

"First of all," he cut back in, pointing with his pointer finger like some kind of pointy poindexter before someone laughed a little too loud and he decided a different finger was in order. "It was Brandomere Asskickeous the seventh, he's part of a long line of incredibly strong, incredibly powerful dragon wizards - "

From where he'd put his head down on the table, his arms wrapped around himself, Ryan groaned, "That's not a thing."

" - and second of all, I'm not sitting here judging your dragon names, so maybe, uh, what's the word I'm looking for here...oh, right, shut the hell up."

Scooching down lower in her seat, Abi gave Ryan a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Um, I'm not saying this to rub it in or anything, but...we did sort of say something like this would happen."

"Hey, are we gonna keep going or not?" Nick asked, his character sheet already a mess of doodles, scribbles, and hash marks. "Don't get me wrong, it's gonna be hard to top Jacob's dragon, but...I think mine might just take the cake."

"It's not a competition!" Rising up from his defeated slouch, Ryan cast an exhausted look out at their little gathering. Why had he thought this was going to be a good idea? Of all the bonding activities he could've come up with, why had a tabletop game been the choice he'd gone with? Genuinely, he couldn't remember. "The point of the game is to, y'know. Explore new worlds. Interact with cool characters. Solve puzzles. No one's dragon gets to automatically be the strongest - no matter what its name is."

Already Jacob and Nick were opening their mouths, no doubt to pick up where they'd left off, but Emma beat them to the punch. "Well I for one can't wait for you guys to meet my dragon, Daisybelle, so all in favor of us getting back to Ryan's masterful storytelling, say aye!"

Much to Jacob's chagrin, the ayes had it.

***

The air filled with a thick, oppressive heat as another dragon joined the first, immediately causing the gathered students to fan themselves as they sweat. Everywhere they looked, there was only the wavering lines of heat mirage, and the warning sizzle of raindrops not allowed to reach the ground.

At first, no one moved - no one thought they could. Such a presence would burn them alive, char them to a crisp if they ventured too close. But then, cautious but determined, a girl stepped forward and the heat dissipated like fever breaking. She set her hand on the dragon's amber snout, and again, its name formed in her mind.

"Trogdor the Burninator."

***

"KAITLYN!" The table erupted into chaos as Ryan threw his arms into the air, and while there were decidedly more groans than laughs, it sure didn't feel like any of them were on his side.

"What?" she asked, assuming the same defensive posture Jacob had before, her hands raised, her shoulders high, her face slack with fake innocence. "I thought it was a solid choice!"

Covering her mouth and nose to hide some of her snort-laughing, Emma fell against Abi's side. "What kind of name is that?!"

"Hey now, I'll have you know Trogdor is pretty much the name when it comes to dragons, okay? It's basically historical."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, see, I can tell you guys aren't dragon experts like me and Jake, so I'll let you in on the secret." Kaitlyn folded her arms on the table, then leaned in closer, widening her eyes dramatically. "Trogdor was a man. Well, he was a dragon man. ...or you know what? Maybe he was just a dragon. But he was still - "

And then, not just to Ryan's surprise but everyone's, she and Jacob popped up from their seats, whipping out what might've been fairly impressive air-guitar solos had they not been accompanied by them both shouting "TROGDOOOR!" at the top of their lungs.

Ryan put his head back on the table. He tried desperately to continue his narration.

***

Then there came a rumbling from the sea, as though some kind of -

***

"This seems like a bad time to reveal that my whole thing was going to be, like, a super edgelord version of Barney, huh?"

"Dylan. Barney's a dinosaur."

"Uh, okay, Abigail, what do you think dragons are?"

"They're...they're not dinosaurs! I...wait, are they?"

Knowing this was a battle he'd already lost, Ryan propped his head up on his hands. "Anyone else have a super hilarious dragon idea they can't wait to share?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Nick smiled sheepishly. "Uh...Toothless? From...y'know...How to Train Your Dragon?"

After another beat, Abi pulled her sketchbook up from off her lap, turning it around to reveal a startlingly gorgeous sketch of a stylized...

Wait.

"Um...mine's also...Toothless. Actually."

Emma clasped her hands together, leaning that much farther into Abi. "Oh my gosssh, you guys are so in-sync! Imagine that. Huh. You're like, dragon soulmates or something."

***

Once every student had their dragon, it came time for them to take to the skies. Only some of them, they had been warned, would survive this trial, and -

***

"Hey, uh, pardon me for party pooping, but...what is it exactly that you kids are doing right now? In the middle of the night? Besides eating...all of the trail mix, that is?"

There was a chorus of "Hi Mr. H!"es (and more than a few muffled giggles) as Chris came out of his office to stand by their table, arms folded and expression perplexed. No one rushed to answer him, though, which...well, that just figured, didn't it?

"We're playing a game," Abi said quickly upon realizing no one else was stepping forward. "Sorry if we were being loud."

"Trying to," Ryan corrected her, "we were trying to play a game. A TTRPG."

"Uh. Huh. Well NGL that sounds like a BFG, but FYI and JSYK, you guys GTG. To bed. It's late, and the last thing I need is you guys being all groggy-eyed for the scavenger hunt tomorrow. So quit ROFLing and GTFO, you know?" Clearly proud of himself, Chris gave a little chuckle.

"Sorry Ryan," Abi said, tucking her sketchbook back into her bag. "Maybe we'll actually, um, get to the dragon riding part next time!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait, there are dragons in your game?" Chris asked. "You mean like Trogdor?"

"Yeahhh!" Kaitlyn and Jacob cheered, giving each other a victorious high-five before cutting Chris in on that action.

There was no sugarcoating it. Ryan was devastated. "There's no way Trogdor the Burninator is a thing. There's no way it's a real thing."

"Hey, bud," Chris said, still grinning, "IYKYK. Now seriously, everybody, bed. Now."

((incredibly desperate author's note from an elderly millenial: please tell me you whippersnappers out there know trogdor omg))

#jeyfeather1234 #six sentence weekend #the quarry #queenie writes supermassive #waaaaaghhhhh im sorry this took so long and BOY i think this is maybe a reference to fourth wing??? but i havent read it D:#so i hope this tickles your fancy despite my lack of dragon school knowledge hehehehehehe and thank you so much for your patience!!! <3

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drama-glob · 2 years

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*Spoilers for Helluva Boss Season 2 Episode 2

This episode was crazy on several levels, but also really touching and sweet. ^_^ I felt bad for Octavia on Stolas forgetting what day it was (Azathoth’s Tears celestial event) because he was telling Stella off when she wanted her stuff from the divorce so he wasn’t making a mistake on purpose, but nothing like almost 20 years of repressed anger to distract you. O_O This at least set up Blitz’s trouble with his daughter Loona and her talk with Octavia later all the more poignant. Also, Moxxie and Millie just having their own thing was cute, but seriously Moxxie, he needs to stop buying everything on an LA street corner. XD

We don’t know for sure how long this is after “Ozzie’s” takes place, but I’m guessing a few days to 2 weeks at the most because 1) Stella wants her stuff and I doubt she would wait long for it and 2) Blitz’s calendar had Stolas’s name written with a bunch of question marks on it, like he wasn’t for sure they’d be hooking up. It’s possible they did have a talk and are trying to work something out, but Stolas was at least being less thirsty in this and kept calling him “Blitz” instead of “Blitzy,” meaning he’s trying to be more respectful/was more focused on finding his daughter. If it has only been a few days since “Ozzie’s,” then they probably haven’t worked out yet what they want in the relationship, but put it aside for this episode. I have a feeling he will still get the Asmodean crystal to give to Blitz, but he’s got to go see Asmodeus for that and if “Ozzie’s” did just happen, it’s probably going to take a fair amount of will to see him. (Hopefully we’ll see Asmodeus and Fizzarolli in the next episode then and get some more of Blitz/Fizz’s backstory ^_^)

I loved that Octavia wound up killing Brennon Radgers (supposed to be Brandon Rogers obviously XD XD XD), which caused the whole mistaken identity issue and causing Blitz to have to act on a sitcom. There was also some foreshadowing with Blitz saying he has performed since and then we don’t hear what it is, so most likely the incident that scarred him and either caused Fizzarolli to loose his limbs and horns or got his mom killed. :(

Loona’s flashback was so terribly sad and makes what happened in “Spring Broken” mean more in that Blitz saw someone like him who was told they were worthless, needed help and to be loved, so he adopted her as his daughter to try and do that. ^_^

Also, there were so many Stolitz moments from both Stolas and Blitz that it makes me think that even if they haven’t talked yet, they still have feeling for each other and have bonded/found empathy over worrying about their daughters instead of just sex. I’m still glad that Stolas found Octavia and said he was sorry because he didn’t mean to neglect her, but he still messed up and hurting her is the last thing he wants; fortunately, they could still have the fireworks to watch together. Poor Blitz though on Loona not reciprocating the hug, but we did see that she does love him, even if she won’t admit it.

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ilyrafe · 2 years

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𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✧ 𝒄𝒉 𝑽𝑰𝑰 (reposted)

pairing: charles brandon x duchess!reader

warnings: angst, abusive behavior

word count: 2,7k

taglist: @runawayolives @kmuir1 @marytudorbrandon @lharrietg @shittingdicknipple @alexa-fangirl-forever @mis-lil-red @amberangel112 @ohmygoodie @itmejado @radaofrivia @scarlets-widow @ragamuffin285 @thereisa8ella @titty-teetee @dropletsofkaisoo @kebabgirl67

redamancy masterlist | main masterlist

a/n: hi hello i am a dumbass while deleting a few posts i accidentally deleted the original 7th chapter, but since i still had a google doc with the original story here i am reposting it !

the dry, golden leaves fall from the trees, decorating london’s streets and roads in the first days of september. the wind is cooler, but it is not able to prevent children from continuing to play in the streets of the villages where they live. the days are getting shorter, however, which may be good for some, but less so for others.

charles has been restless since the kiss. it feels like stepping on eggshells, and he hates it, but he knows he can’t pressure the duchess into anything. he still doesn’t know how to read her, so he can’t really tell where she is at, where she stands in relation to him. the duke can’t deny that he finds y/n a bit moody, but compared to king henry, charles knows how to handle her better than his friend and sovereign. there is still a barrier between them, but little by little, the bricks are being removed.

he’s hopeful, though. he’s putting a lot of effort into their relationship - whatever that may be. would he like to be in a romantic relationship with the duchess and live his married life properly? absolutely, but as he gets to know her better, he wouldn’t be upset if they end up being friends. either way, all he wants is to have her in his life.

the duchess remains in conflict with herself. as she documents her journey in her diary, she finds herself wondering if it’s worth putting charles through this, because she knows it’s unfair and that it’s clear he has feelings for her. it’s conflicting and distressing, because she knows she’s giving in little by little. she can’t say she still loves james, but also can’t say she doesn’t, as the memories are still fresh in her mind, and it was those memories that kept her sane during these months of marriage. her head is a mess, and she just wants to be able to breathe in peace, knowing that james will be bitter.

getting close to charles, even out of petulant interest, has been interesting. now they have all three meals together, they go out riding either early in the mornings or after dinner quite frequently, and she feels genuinely comfortable around him. admitting you’re in the wrong is never easy, and despite having apologized to him for being so harsh, she still feels a little guilty and indebted to him. the problem now is that she feels in doubt about her revenge, because she has involved a person who doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of something he has nothing to do with and she knows he’s harboring real feelings for her.

her eyesight is blurry and her eyes are heavy. the duchess stretches, closes her diary and blows out the candle on the table, that gently lightens the spot. the moonlight remains illuminating the room, and as she lies down on her bed, she closes her eyes, praying for strength to go on with the mess she herself created.

(...)

the day dawns just slightly cloudy, the sun decides to appear, although quite shyly..

in his bed, the duke takes a little while longer to get up. today is his birthday, and despite the day being his, it is perhaps the busiest day of the year, as the royal court, his subjects and his friends and family want his attention to congratulate him for another year of life. unlike other years, charles has decided not to celebrate with a party, as a war is imminent and he doesn’t want any more distractions.

after a long delay, charles is finally ready for the busy day ahead. does she know it’s my birthday? he laughs at himself as he finds himself thinking about her again.

when he arrives at the salon for breakfast, he finds the duchess promptly seated, waiting for him. with each passing day she gets more beautiful, and he doesn't know how that's possible. it’s as if she had an angelic aura around her that hypnotizes him. he’s completely head over heels.

“oh, good morning!” she smiles brightly.

“good morning, dear wife. i apologize for taking so long.”

“it’s no trouble.” she shrugs. “um… i hear it’s your birthday today.”

he chuckles as he pours honey into his fruit salad.

“yes, it is.”

“while i find it quite insulting that you didn’t tell me and i found out this morning, i wish you the best.” she says with a shy smile on her beautiful lips, the ones he prays he gets to kiss them again.

“thank you.”

“i assume a party will be held here…?”

“oh, no. not this year.” he explains. “i believe i’m too old for birthday parties,” he says humorously, and she chuckles. “it’s a waste of money and even if i were to host a party, certain people would have to come and we do not want that.”

“oh,” y/n recoils in shame. “i am utterly embarrassed about it.”

“no, please, don’t. my concern is about you, not me. i would never do anything to harm you.” he’s quick to assure her. he places his hand on hers and gives it a light squeeze. “um, i would like to celebrate my birthday, though.” he grins.

a pleasant smile appears in her face, and it’s enough to make his heart skip a beat. “how?”

“tonight, we’ll have dinner.”

“we have dinner every evening.” she chuckles to disguise her confusion.

“i know, but we’ll have a cake, and there’s no one else i’d rather celebrate today with.”

oh.

y/n is taken by surprise by his words. she had no idea her plan would work so quickly.

“alright. i’ll see you tonight, then.”

(...)

his anxiety for dinner makes him feel that time is deliberately passing slowly. as he expected, his day is full of commitments. lots of documents to sign, he has to send his men for training for the imminent war against france, and has to make time to receive gifts and messages from his friends.

on his desk, there is a small print of him with the duchess on their wedding day. charles is standing before the duchess who is sitting on a chair. both have serious expressions on their faces, and even though it’s a painting, he can see his wife’s sad semblant. she was stunning that day, though. her dress was beautiful. although he is glad they are getting along today, he would love for their wedding day to be a happy one. he acknowledges that he wasn’t much satisfied either, and he did expect a loveless marriage, but didn’t anticipate how turbulent the first months would be.

a knock on the door to his office takes him out of his thoughts.

“your grace, your majesty is here.” one guard announces and henry steps into charles’ office.

“my dear friend! i came here to congratulate you on another year of life!” the king exclaims.

“thank you, your majesty.”

“oh, stop that.” henry waves it off, making charles laugh. “what are your plans for today?”

“well, as you can imagine, i have a lot to do.”

“are you not celebrating your birthday?” the king inquiries.

“not this year.” charles sighs as he makes his way to his chair, behind his desk. “we need resources for the war, i don’t think it’s smart to waste it in a party that next year i’ll be celebrating anyways.”

“you speak as if your best friend isn’t the king of england, your grace.”

charles scoffs, quite amused by henry’s way of thinking. the king despises limits; the more, the better. there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to get what he wants. the war was provoked by him, and charles, being the army leader, has to take part in something he loathes, all because he couldn’t bear to lose henry’s love and admiration. not having any siblings alive, henry is the brother he never had.

“we’ll celebrate properly when we come victorious from this war.” charles promises.

“oh, i have no doubt our army is in good hands.” henry smiles. “just so you know, annika has left to sweden, but her husband james is staying. he is already in training and i’ve been told he is excellent. i’m glad he is on our side.”

“um… i’ll keep an eye on him. he’s never been to war before, we don’t want him to die on the field.” charles lies. “if he shows us a good performance, i’ll award him with something.”

“oh, you’re generous, my friend.”

after much research, there’s no way he could keep james out of the war. there is nothing he could say, the king seems to like him a lot. a parasite.

(...)

after a busy and chaotic day, charles finally gets ready for dinner with his wife. he chooses his best clothes and when he goes down to the dining room, he doesn’t find her there. in fact, the table isn’t even set.

“where is y/n?” he asks.

“she is in the garden awaiting for your grace.” a servant says, and her smile tells her that something good is ahead.

charles makes his way to the garden and finds y/n sitting on a smaller table. she looks beautiful as always, her soft blue dress is gorgeous, and her jewels shine when moonlight hits them, giving her a special aura. she’s properly dressed for a party, even though it’s just a simple dinner, but he loves it. the moon is shining bright, and although it is a bit cold, the weather is overall lovely. it’s all perfect.

“i thought you’d forgotten about this.” she laughs.

“i wouldn’t dare.”

they both sit across from each other and the servants begin to serve them. charles is enamored, and he knows he looks stupid.

“i am sorry you weren’t able to have an appropriate birthday celebration,” she laments. “i took the liberty of making a present for you, i hope it is to your liking.”

“what is it?”

charles feels like a boy again, his curiosity always taking over his mind. a servant returns to the table with a small cake in hand. he places it in the center of the table and the duke’s mouth waters. he loves desserts, especially cakes.

“i’ve heard you have a sweet tooth, and that you particularly adore chocolate nut cake, so i decided to bake you one. i hope you enjoy it.”

the duke breaks the little chocolate nut cake and the taste is divine. of all the chocolate nut cakes he’s ever eaten, this one is the best. the best of the best. she can’t help but let out a laugh when she sees the duke sighing and letting out a brief moan of pleasure as he delights himself with the dessert.

after enjoying the cake, both go for a walk through the immense countryside, accompanied by the moon and the glow of the stars. it is increasingly difficult for charles to keep his feelings to himself, and he senses that she may be feeling the same. the change in her behavior is sudden, but it’s a good change. she wouldn’t bake him his favorite cake if she didn’t like him in the slightest… would she?

“i must say, this was the best birthday i’ve had in years. a grand party couldn’t make me as happy.” he says with a grin.

“i am glad to hear that.”

he stops in the middle of the path and holds her hands.

“and i must admit that i didn’t expect to fall in love with you so quickly.”

charles’ heart is in his mouth, because he doesn’t want to be rejected by her, but to his surprise, the duchess smiles. she looks a little shy, but he would dare say she seems happy to hear his confession.

y/n is surprised, as she didn’t think he would admit his feelings so soon. her plan is working out too quickly, which can be worrying.

with the recognition that her goal is getting closer to being achieved, y/n approaches and presses her lips against his. charles wastes no time and matches her advance. her lips taste like wine, which makes him just a tad drunk. both of her hands are pressed against his chest, and even with so many layers of clothing, she can feel his heart pounding. knowing she has a special power over a man like him is tempting, she can’t abuse it.

continuing with the “girl repentant of her mistakes” guise can be tricky, but she got to the crucial part of her plan, and if she’s sincere, it wasn’t exactly difficult, it was just… morally devious.

somehow, y/n has internalized that there is nothing more she can lose. her anguish is so deep that she fails to recognize herself. her sadness and disappointment are so strong that they have left her numb, making her not feel the impact of her actions. although she is fully aware that her plan is petty and childish, it’s the only thing that keeps her alive, and it’s sad that her motivation for living is a deep hatred of both james and herself.

“please, give me a chance. i can make you happy.” he asks in a whisper as he leans his forehead against hers, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers, making her smile again.

for a brief moment she lets herself believe charles’ words. as true as they are, she knows they were only said because of her false intent. it hurts because she had heard those words before, and only suffering followed.

“yes.”

(...)

in her quarters, y/n reflects on the night she had. her head is beyond tormented.

already in her sleeping clothes, she goes to her bed, but a noise at the window disturbs her. as she opens the curtains, she finds james struggling to keep himself on the parapet outside. she needs to stifle a scream that almost escapes her lips. her body shudders, size is the scare she takes.

she opens the window and lets him in, seeing no other option. the man drains and is panting.

“what are you doing here? how did you get in here?” she whispers in desperation.

“i needed to see you, my love.” he gasps. “i missed you terribly.”

he tries to kiss her, but she steps back.

“i am not your love anymore.” she scores. “i thought i was clear enough when i said i do not want to see you ever again.”

“you know you love me, y/n.” james says with conviction, one that is appalling. “i will duel him if necessary to have you back.”

“you have lost your mind.” she scoffs.

james makes himself comfortable on a chair and takes in her room. her room alone is much bigger than the house he planned on acquiring.

“why did you marry a swedish duchess?” she asks.

“i needed to get to you.” he says. “i met annika and as soon as i learned that she was a royal, i made her fall in love with me. it was the only way i could get to you, and for you, i’ll do anything.”

his tone is frightening, only because he’s saying what she has been doing. realizing she’s not much different than him breaks her heart in tiny little pieces.

“does she know about us?”

“no, absolutely not.” he urges. “of course, she found it quite strange when you stormed out of the queen’s birthday party, but it was no trouble, i handled her.”

james’ eyes are troubled, and she’s never seen him like that. for the first time she’s scared of him, and she isn’t so sure if she is that safe around him.

“you are insane.” she says, more to herself than to him. “james, i mean it. we are no longer together. i don’t love you anymore.”

“you’re mistaken, my love.” james insists with a terrifying smile, as he approaches her figure. he holds her in his arms, but her body is frozen in fear. “i promise you. we will be together in the end, y/n. whether you like it or not, we’re meant to be together and you know it.”

“all i know is that i am your worst enemy now, james. not charles, not my father. me. cross my path again and you’ll see what i am capable of.”

outraged, james lets her go and leaves her room by the window, where he came from.

while the duke sleeps happily in his bed, the duchess is unable to shut down her mind for a few moments. now she fears for hers and charles’ safety.

#my writings #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #Charles Brandon #charles brandon fanfic #charles brandon x reader #charles brandon x you #the tudors

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makerkenzie · 3 months

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So I read your posts about the Martells and how their plans to team up with the targs are.....faulty to say the least lol and I completely agree. Your posts hit on a lot of the same issues I have had with the Martells and GRRM's handling of this plot point. We are told that the Martells in general are haughty and slow to forgive. We are introduced to Oberyn, he loved Elia more than anything, and like any overprotective brother didn't believe any of her suitors was good enough for his sister. Yet, GRRM does not allow Oberyn, and then later, Doran, to make any comments about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. Yes, Tywin gave the order and Loch and Clegane executed those orders, but none of that would have happened had it not been for Rhaegar setting the ball in motion. This makes absolutely NO sense and gives the fandom cover to say garbage like, 'well, even the Martells don't blame Rhaegar so Rhaegar was a good guy...' Oberyn? The same man who didn't think anyone was good enough for his sister wouldn't have been enraged at her husband seemingly leaving her for another woman after she just almost died giving him a son? Seriously???

This is just....very bad writing and dropping the ball on Martin's end. On top of that, he has the Martells betroth Arianne to Viserys. Why the FUCK would any family do that after seeing how one targ man already treated their beloved sister in a previous marriage match???? It's baffling.....absolutely insane. But I can't bring myself to blame the Martells, because this is yet another area of illogical carelessness by GRRM when it comes to his handling of Rhaegar and Elia.

Parts of this fandom refuse to acknowledge that Rhaegar is significantly at fault for the rebellion and what happened to Elia and his children and it borders on gaslighting imo. The amount of times I've seen people say 'well, Rhaegar didn't start the way, it was Brandon making a mess in KL and then it was Aerys' fault for demanding Robert and Ned's heads.' Okay......but literally none of that would have occurred had Rhaegar and Lyanna not ran away. Had they not done what they did, Brandon would have had no reason to got to KL to confront the prince.

Anyway, a lot of this hits on GRRM's, imo shockingly tone deaf, handling of Rhaegar, Elia, and Lyanna. I have no doubt that back in 1996 he envisioned R and L to be some Romeo and Juliet love story with two sympathetic people that meant well, but ran into a string of bad luck 'love is the death of duty' etc. etc. Except, it's easy to romanticize Romeo and Juliet who were two capricious teens in the blush of first love. Importantly, neither of them had a spouse and two young children they abandoned to go screw their lovers in said spouse's homeland. And then had their spouse and children brutally murdered as a result of the war they started 'for loveeee' lmao. The fandom harps on the age gap between R and L and honestly that doesn't even scratch the surface as to top five worst things about this relationship. I'm not even bother getting into L's hilariously hypocritical views on fidelity and having bastards lmao. I think GRRM inadvertently had the inciting relationship of his series be, not only predatory because of the age gap, but be based on the degradation and humiliation of an innocent wife and mother, and just....like......didn't realize it??? lmao. It's very weird, very very weird. I mean, on the other hand, I do think he....kinda...gets it because if he wanted a uncomplicated romance he simply would not have had Rhaegar be married with two kids.

All that being said, I think Martin is committed to making R a tragic hero and this a tragic love story, that he refuses to allow the people who should realistically hate Rhaegar and the targs the most, the Martells, excoriate him in the text. I had a conversation with another ASOIAF fan about this and she said that one of the good things the show did was allow Oberyn to call out Rhaegar for abandoning his sister, which he doesn't do in the text. I think there's a lot of cognitive dissonance with GRRM not realizing just how bad Rhaegar, and Lyanna imo, come across to readers in the text and, tinfoil time, I think not having to explain this relationship to readers is one of the many reasons he won't finish the series. I think he now realizes just how bad it is and how much 'fixing' of that ship he's going to have to do for both of them not to be absolutely hated by the fandom.

Obviously Martin is keeping very mum on the rebellion because he doesn't want to reveal too much and obfuscates a lot so we really don't have a lot of concrete opinions on Rhaegar from non-targ sycophants.....which is good writing technique.....usually.....but when you're taking 30 plus years to finish a series and are going on year 13 of having the fandom wait on the book that should in theory answer a lot of these questions....it's not great lol.

I don't see a question here, but I'm not above poking the viper's nest when I'm bored, so: okay, I'll bite!

If GRRM is trying to write Rhaegar as a tragic hero and R/L as some epically tragic love story, then, yes, he's doing a piss-poor job of it.

I don't think that's what he's doing.

I think he's intentionally writing a deeply frustrating story around the Martells. Whatever his initial idea of the Targs was in 1996...the story he's writing now is that dragons plant no trees.

He doesn't let the Martells acknowledge the Targs' mistreatment of their family because this is not a story in which they'll be vindicated or victorious. This is a story in which they are screwing themselves over. Which isn't exactly fun to read, but the pieces add up that way. The Targs are not the heroes the Martells need for their fairytale, any more than the Lannisters are the villains they need for that tale.

Especially Rhaegar. Seven Hells, are people actually saying "clearly Rhaegar was a good guy because the Martells don't blame him"? That is really...special. Nah, the Martells' refusal to hold the Targs, and especially Rhaegar, responsible for the injury done to their family is not an argument in favor of the Targs. It's 60% or more of the way the Martells are driving themselves off a cliff.

I don't have any firm opinions on why GRRM is taking so long to finish the Winds of Waiting. It's likely the result of many contributing factors, as the series involves many, many moving parts. But I doubt very much that he intends to write the Targs as the good guys Dany seems to think they are. They're a mix of hero and villain, like many other players in the game. Meanwhile the Martells' investment in the dragon is doubly tragic because where the Targs are actually heroic, they still don't reciprocate the Martells' loyalty. They hardly even see it.

#asoiaf meta #anon ask #the winds of waiting #house martell #house targaryen #raggedy trashgaryen #robert's rebellion #nobody screwed the martells harder than the targaryens #mine is a song of mischief and shit-stirring #in which I criticize the martells of sunspear #because they are screwing themselves over #if there's a tragic hero among the targs it's aegon v #dragons plant no trees

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brandon-foster · 6 months

Text

There was a chorus of sounds erupting from every pot and overhead pipe. It was almost like white noise at this point. Brandon had gone over the budget at least a hundred times, but somehow there was always something he missed. Collaborative efforts from maintenance workers or rather his friends and family, piled on top of the other noises. That did nothing to irritate him, at least not as much as his current standing did. The books needed a serious undertaking, and to make matters worse, they were going to be further behind than they already were.

The business had started with good intentions. Owning a restaurant had been his dream for a time, and while he wasn’t the most skilled chef on staff he was the best at working with others. His memory had been impeccable, always remembering customers, on top of strengths and weaknesses in his own kitchen and where to place new pieces. And for a time, it worked. It went without saying that many things had changed since then, the central most significant probably being the very thing that could make or break him, and did. Business was slowing, the decreasing traffic no doubt due to a new problem arising nearly every week. Brandon would never entertain the idea that he needed another person to help, much less ask for the help. Even if he never said it or even mustered the thought, it was obvious to everyone but him. It was missing the overhead direction of someone who wasn’t passing on logging books on account of being hungover.

Brandon was too stubborn and stuck in his pride to ask for the help he probably needed, but never picked up the phone to do so. Someone in another room dropped an object with a clumsy curse spat in the air, followed by the sound of splitting glass into marble tile. His eyes rolled and he let out a defeated sigh, mentally drained enough to let whatever damage occurred in the other room subside. He dropped a heavy head into his palms, the pen between his fingers dropping on the desk below him. As if it were routine, Brandon asked himself if this was what he really wanted, if it was even feasible. Sometimes it felt like he was keeping the location just for the spite.

Already he heard their guilty whispers and attempts to clean whatever mess they made before he noticed, but someone else had already arrived. Someone worse to face the repercussions of a mess, someone whose father probably funded whatever they ruined in there. He knew she was here because the buzzer had been held for just the right amount of time she knew would piss him off, enough time for his clumsy “maintenance” workers to get the hint that they really fucked up, to which they shuffled around in a panic. It was just the icing on the cake that they had changed the locks.

Trading one stress for another, Brandon quickly moved from the squeaky desk chair to head for the back door, wiping his hands on his black apron almost like a forethought. He mentally prepared for the vitriol she was about to spit at him for even changing the locks without telling her, a move he’d forgotten to share with her due to complacency.

“Fuck. My bad. ” When he did prop the silver door open he leaned, placing the other arm of the wall for foundation. “Locksmith came a few days ago, I forgot to give you the extra keys.” He gruffed, moving out so she could come in, as if that would do anything to appease her. Already in his mind he tried to figure out how to get her through the kitchen to his office without the presence of glass. “I didn’t know if you were coming in to do the deposit, you should’ve called, I haven’t seen you in like, two weeks. Its just a..bad time right now.”

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coyoxxtl · 8 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/coyoxxtl/726754829755678720/does-anyone-have-legit-criticisms-about-aotd-or?source=share

The only criticism I have honestly, is the retcon of them learning to be better people in Doomstar. But it's a continuity thing for me.

You guys finally learned to do something kind for others towards the end of that movie but you went back to being assholes to your fans again AOTDS?

The same thing that got ya'll into this mess in the first place?

Also, my expectations were a little bit blindsided by what they would do here.

I was expecting more lore about Murderface here and maybe some diving into their past as Dethklok was starting, but it's nothing too bad.

i still need to rewatch aotd several more times its not embedded in my head yet so i wouldn’t consider my thoughts and crits Completely formed

mmbut i wouldn’t necessarily call that a retcon, bc i don’t consider that lesson to be fully Learned in doomstar requiem? what they learned, mostly, is that they’re a family and YES they actually care about each other. and that’s not even something they didn’t know but they consistently deny it, and don’t take that love seriously enough to express it in any meaningful way. and thats just amongst themselves, they still didn’t learn to rid their harbored resentment for their fans, who they infamously hate and barely consider people. to me this movie was literally about the continuing the lesson from the first movie, they learned to care about each other now they have to extend that out to their fans. im p sure this is what the whole “open hand” thing is about, also why the fans were the army of the doomstar all along, dethklok is now a part of them, not against them.

also, personally i think there was just enough Murderface, his whole possession deal was around for as long as it needed to, and their connection with him afterwards was very sweet, “but you can’t even hear the bass” ”but you can always feel it” was so beautiful it stuck w me lol

like ofc i can always appreciate more lore and backstory but i consider that fanservice and wasn’t something i was seriously expecting to be included because every second of this movie needed to be dedicated to wrapping up the story. i don’t doubt brandon small and the other show runners wanted to do more and give us the fun extra juicy bits but i can tell they written the movie to be tight with nothing wasting narrative space. the lame thing about being a creative is knowing when something is unnecessary for the story even if it’s interesting. i heard that brandon small is thinking about continuing metalocalypse so hopefully we get to see stuff like that in the future i want that too😭

#ask #metalocalypse #aotd spoilers

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secret-hidden-feelings · 1 year

Text

The truth

To start off with, we made it to one year. It has been hard and it really has had our challenges but on the 11/12/22 we finally made our promises to each other forever. He bought me the most gorgeous ring because to him my happiness is what is important to him, to him I am his world. But, I messed up before he became my boyfriend and I kept it to myself. I denied it to him, I lied to him and I finally gave in. I came clean about the one I was talking to from Adelaide and I told him what happened. This was all prior to being his girlfriend, however 3 weeks later I was his girlfriend. I knew telling him would stop him from pursuing me and I was scared because I really really liked him.

I went back to Adelaide and like it was just to party, my flights were booked back to back. Queensland with ex and then to Adelaide because I was partying constantly. When I look back it was such a waste of money and time. I just remember thinking well he's only 21, he's not going to want to marry a girl who's 4 years older than him. He'll probably leave me for someone either his age or younger and I wanted to keep that in mind while we were initially dating. I thought he wasn't serious because I remember feeling so many different emotions when we were at ding tai Phung, and I felt like I wanted to end it because he was like too good to be true. I fell for him so hard within a month and that frightened me. He now thinks I cheated on him in Adelaide and I didn't, I am a person who suppress their bad memories of a person once they apologise because I believe they'll change. I was not ready to talk about how something happened and I wasn't ready to talk about things being pressured on me. I told him when I was on the phone to him, how he tried to come into the room and sleep next to me. He cuddled me and I pushed him off and told him to get out, he was drunk. just always wanted to touch me and hug me and he would say "just as friends". I am a person who was so easily manipulated into believing that everyone is good. I was so embarrassed that I didn't just scream or cry or tell him. Then I chose to forget because I liked him too and I remember the reason I liked him was because he was a replacement to my ex. He was the rebound so I attached myself to him, he was the guy that gave me attention and his traits were super similar. I was so embarrassed of coming clean because I kept my mouth shut. I never wanted to break his heart. I am not one to talk about traumatic events if they are suppressed because it makes me uncomfortable. I don't like dealing with trauma and I never will, its confronting and Im not ready to fall apart if no one is going to be there to pick up those pieces. I am now in a position where I dont even know how to convince my boyfriend, the person I truly fell in love with after I thought the guy for me was Brandon. But I fell in love with him for how good he was to me and I fucked it up . He is the first guy I bought a ring for, a ring where I was promising to be with him forever. Now I don't even know if tomorrow is promised and I'm scared. it is all my fault and I wish I could go back and change it all. I didn't cheat though and I can't and don't know how to prove it to him, he's now out with all his boys and my anxiety is up the roof. I feel sick, I legit wanna die. He's told me If I bother him, he'll block me. Ahmed used to be like that with me where he would block me or I kept calling he would cancel the plans he had with me or break up with me, and to find out I got cheated on during some of those periods also scares me. WHAT IF HE FINDS SOMEONE WHEN HES DRUNK? He's told me won't and that he's still unavailable and that I shouldn't doubt him. That I have no right to be possessive because I have been unfaithful, but I wasn't and I don't know what do without crying or falling apart. Sometimes I believe maybe I deserve that kind of relationship, to be hurt over and over again. So it finally pushes me over the edge and I leave this world. Goodnight.

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nerajaana · 3 years

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Rhaegar (a married man and the father two children) kidnapped Lyanna and raped her to fulfill a prophecy, not even caring about what was going to happen to his family. Robert fought a war in her name trying toget her back. What did he do, sleep with women? Rhaegar did the same and he already had a family

Are you....are you expecting me to admit both are equally worse or something???? did you not get the memo that i like neither but my hate for robert, who's character is adequately fleshed out for me to violently despise the dude in comparison to rhaegar, whom i dislike for the actions which are CANON??? Or are you expecting something else here?

Listen, i don't care about how many women rhaegar slept with (which was TWO according to the canon, btw. not the whoring type i'm afraid. sucks for you) but if the two were REALLY in love and it was absolutely mutual and consensual, i wish he had went about it in a manner that wouldn't have resulted in the deaths of Rickard and Brandon but instead, an alliance which could have resulted in a war with him having more allies than reach, dorne and crownlands. Aerys (with viserys as his heir) vs Rhaegar should have happened, but it got all messed up and that pisses me off the most.

Also, the rhaegar/lyanna business isn't clear cut enough. was it consensual, did it start off consensual but later got complicated, or was it outright kidnap?? We won't know until the books come out, or that play- whichever comes first.

What i DO care about is how he went about it.....the crowning of lyanna in front of all the lords of the continent indirectly lowering the political power of his wife- which, given how the feudal society works, depends on her husband's regard for her. Which over time, could've been restored. but at that moment, it was an insult to her in front of the people. Next, the elopement. She was still in Crownlands while he took off to Dorne, his wife's homeland. How the personal dynamics were between them, we don't know. I doubt we'll ever know. It's all speculation and headcanons and fanfics nonnie.

Which is why I don't have anything against rhaegar stans/rhaelya stans. Now, had their attitude towards the critics been deplorable, (i didn't have to start shipping r/l btw to be friends with them) I wouldn't be interacting with them. They're a hell lot more accepting than the "we're the only ones right here, if you don't agree with us you're cancelled. Also #RadFeminism #PseudoActivism" crowd. As long as you have the basic decency and decorum to accept the opposing views of obscure af aspects like the issues among these three (because let's be fucking real here, we don't have the entire picture yet) and, idk, focus on the shared love for the main characters, who, y'know, are the ones actually driving the plot and who's heads we're very much acquainted with? over five whole books??? it's pretty easy to bond with people with whom you don't agree with on everything i would have had exactly four people to talk with if i had to avoid everyone i don't agree with on everything jfc

And now, let's talk about the actual, canonically proven rapist in the discussion, Robert Baratheon(derogatory). I'm assuming you didn't finish reading the books because i doubt anyone with a working braincell who's read the very extensive Cersei Lannister povs would woobify that motherfucking dumbfuck criminal but, my guy, he IS a rapist, an abusive piece of shit who beats his wife, and doesn't care for jack unless he can eat it, drink it, or fuck it, and also Jon Arryn and Ned Stark. That's all. He may have been a dear friend of Ned, but that means jackshit when he's, well, the way he is. He's disgusting, period. He deserved getting killed by that boar, period. I only wish Cersei had a son with him (because, politics and political stability, wars ain't good for the commonfolk) and had him die years before. A betrothal with Margaery to secure the realm further. and dany & viserys being brought back to the country by the very honourable ned stark and dubiously honourable Jon A and betrothing her to robb because pact of ice and fire babey ohmygod i've gone off topic i'll shut my trap also send viserys to the Watch to secure the line honestly those motherfuckers could have done many things to secure their rule without having to kill children that's on their fucking heads where's your rage for them all nonnie?

Also, newsflash. The fucking war happened because Aerys illegally murdered the Lord of Winterfell, the Warden of North and his heir very brutally in front of the Court. He killed off many heirs illegally. The motherfucker broke all sorts of laws that exist between the monarch and his feudal lords. On top of it all, he demanded the heads of Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon from Jon Arryn. That was the final fucking straw. Bitch was in the middle of the rebellion because his life would be forfeit otherwise. He could dress it up in whichever fucking way he wants to years after the events but that's the gist of it. The war would've broken out either way, that's the reality of unstable regimes with piss poor monarchs as the heads. The speculations and conjectures that you've employed to confirm that Rhaegar's a rapist could've been applied to understand the political scenario of it all, it's not rocket science.

#anti rhaegar #robert baratheon #what has my life come to that i have to use this tag omfg: anti robert baratheon #ew y'all stop woobifying disgusting pigs what's wrong with you lot #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #fandom dumbassery #jaan got mail #jaan rants

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onmykneesforhotdilfs · 3 years

Text

Tilt

Bloom smiled as a butler offered her a crystal glass filled with, what she assumed was, very expensive champagne. She nodded gratefully as she took a sip, and then promptly had to physically stop herself from spitting it right back out. Either the champagne wasn’t as good as she expected or officials of Isis simply decided to serve something from the supermarket, while hoping that no one would notice. Then again, Bloom mused, it might just be that my taste buds are so used to the $10 wine so everything fancier just tastes like crap.

She shook her head and crossed her arms underneath the bustier of her skintone, off the shoulder gown with baby blue flowers scattered across the top and sporadically across the skirt as well. The nude color made her appear more tan than she actually was and while the dress was indeed very beautiful, it was just as uncomfortable. Bloom winced as shifting weight from one stiletto clad foot to another sent white hot signal of pain when one of the wires supporting her bustier stabbed her in the ribs. She bit the inside of her cheek to in order to stop herself from simply burning the fabric.

A cheerful laugh of her best friend snapped her out of her trance. Stella emerged from the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, her asymmetrical off shoulder gown highlighting every curve on her body perfectly. Long purple sleeve blended with yellow in a way Bloom didn’t even deem possible considering how different two colors are. Her other arm, that was completely sleeveless, sported some golden jewelry and floor length gown swept the floor elegantly with Stella’s every step. She was holding the same glass, filled with same champagne as Bloom, with her well manicured fingers. As soon as Stella was within arm’s reach, she grabbed Bloom’s elbow and leaned close to her, smile completely disappeared from her face.

“This stuff is absolutely disgusting.” Stella spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh really?” Bloom asked as smirk slowly rose on her lips. “And here I thought you preferred this,” she lifted a fancy glass into the air, “over my cheap wine.”

“Anything is better than this, for the lack of a better word, crap.” Stella scoffed. “This would’ve never happened on Solaria.” She tilted the glass once again to take a sip in hope it somehow started tasting better but ended up disappointed. Bloom almost laughed at Stella’s expression. “But then again, should I have expected anything more from a planet Diaspro came from?”

Bloom almost winced at the mention of a woman that had the ability to mess up her relationship with Sky like no other. The latest stunt she pulled, thanks to Valtor, only made Bloom more angry at everybody that turned a blind eye to her actions simply because she is a princess. It was only then that the thought occurred to her, that Diaspro might be here and that she might ruin their mission. She glanced nervously around the hall, panicking more the longer she couldn’t find her.

Stella, recognizing Bloom’s ‘two breaths away from having a panic attack' look on her face, was quick to put a calming hand on her shoulder. Bloom recoiled slightly but Stella gripped the flesh lightly in order to ground her. She leaned closer to whisper in Bloom’s ear. “Relax, she’s not here. Apparently her parents don’t allow her to go to events where his highness, prince Sky of Eraklyon, might be present.”

Sarcasm was obvious in Stella’s voice but it served the purpose of calming Bloom to the point where she actually start thinking lucidly again.

Bloom took a deep breath as her shoulders slouched slightly forward. “Thank you.” She whispered to Stella. Then, the actual sentences Stella was saying caught up to her and her eyebrows touched her hairline in obvious amusement. “Still angry at Sky I see?”

Stella snorted and wrinkled her nose at the mention of Sky’s name. “If you were smarter, you’d be angry too.”

“Hey!” Bloom yelped angrily but settled down quickly as she looked away. “I am angry at him.”

“Apparently not enough.” Stella gripped the glass so hard her knuckles turned white. “I mean, what’s up with him suddenly becoming a poster boy and actually listening to what his daddy says?”

“Well, technically, Sky’s meeting with Diaspro or her parents might cause interplanetary scandal between Eraklyon and Isis.” Bloom spoke in Techna's voice.

Stella’s lip twitched. “Still, interplanetary scandal or a potential threat of one never actually stopped him from going against orders before. So my question still remains.”

“Any sign of Valtor?” Bloom asked, hoping to divert the route of conversation.

“I just spoke to Techna. He hasn’t been detected and Amplificarum is still safely locked in the vault.”

“He’ll show up eventually.” Bloom nodded absentmindedly. “He always does.”

“See this, this right here,” Stella pointed to the marble floor and Bloom lowered her gaze to the direction her finger was indicating but furrowed her brows when she found nothing. “This is why Sky should be here.” Bloom’s lips shaped into a thin line whe she realized what she was talking about as Stella continued to rant. “Isn’t he concerned that Valtor might attack and something might happen to you?”

Bloom gasped. “I’m not some… damsel in distress that needs saving Stella!” She scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

“C’mon Bloom, don’t give me that.”

“Well what do you want me to say Stell? That I’m angry? Disappointed? Fine. I’m disappointed that Sky chose to follow the order from his father when I wanted him to come with me. He most certainly could've found another solution but he did nothing. Instead he left me to face, potentially Diaspro and Valtor alone. There! Was that enough? Are you happy now?” Bloom’s cheeks were red by the time she finished her rant as her chest continued rising up and down in order to return much needed oxygen into her lungs, her exhaustion more due to stress than the actual rant.

Stella smiled and patted Bloom on the shoulder. “There you go. Now was that so hard to say?”

“What?”

“Nevermind that, anyway, be sure to tell him that next time, ok?”

Bloom rolled her eyes but a smile threatened to spread on her face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Mhm, that’s why you love me so much.” Stella spoke with an obvious pride evident in her voice.

“Yeah, let’s just say you’re lucky I do.” Bloom shook her head and grabbed Stella’s elbow as she spotted a familiar short brown hair emerging from the crowd. “There’s Brandon.” She turned to Stella and pointed to where she saw him. “Go bother him for a while.”

Stella pouted and stuck her tongue out playfully at Bloom but strutted off towards her boyfriend, leaving Bloom alone.

With Stella gone, all of Bloom’s physical discomfort came rushing back and hitting her like a rogue train. Her feet ached, her head started hurting from the tight updo and she was pretty sure the wire that poked her in the ribs has punctured her skin. She felt the tender area with her opposite hand as much as she dared and exhaled short puff of air when she found nothing. She wanted to sit down or maybe even lay down and then not move for a few days.

She shook her head and took a sip of her disgusting drink in order to wake herself up. She looked around the dancefloor, automatically finding Stella and Brandon as they swayed to the rhythm. Techna and Timmy were huddled in the corner probably discussing something about technology. Musa and Riven were also in the corner, be it on the opposite side from Techna, which greatly surprised Bloom because Musa was more often than not first on the dancefloor alongside Layla (though club suited them more, but the two always found a way to fit in anywhere), but right now dancefloor seemed like the last place Musa wanted to be. Instead, fairy of music was busy glaring daggers at her boyfriend that seemed to pay little to no attention to them.

Bloom rolled her eyes at the two of them (not that her and Sky were any better) and focused on finding Layla that also, surprisingly, decided to go solo on this mission. She found her talking to some Isis official that she probably knew due to her status. With Layla’s position in mind, bloom turned to finding the last couple but Flora and Helia were nowhere to be found so Bloom assumed they were probably taking a stroll in the garden.

With those in mind, Bloom once again diverted her eyes from the dancefloor and looked at the champagne bubbling in her glass as her thoughts ran over the information she remembered about Amplificarum.

Apparently, the green stone, by physical appearance almost indistinguishable from emerald, had the power to magnify any spells or beams aimed at something. Or someone, Bloom thought. It was most commonly used for protection spells and it generally wasn’t meant for offensive spellwork. Bloom somehow had doubts Valtor will use it for protection spells. The sheer thought of chaos that could potentially happen if such artifact ever fell into Valtor’s, or anyone’s wrong hands, made Bloom shudder all over and grip her champagne glass bit tighter. That can never be allowed to happen. It’s why you’re here. There’s no way he will be able to slip in and out undetected with eleven pairs of eyes looking for him.

Bloom couldn’t deny that Valtor is the most powerful, and quite frankly the most cunning, villain they ever had the pleasure of meeting. What irked her to the point of madness, however, was the fact that Valtor always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

The battles are like chess game. Daphne’s voice sounded in her head. In order to defeat your opponent you have to figure out their strategy. You have to master the art of reading their moves and find a way to turn the odds in your favor.

It was not hard to guess who played certain roles in this game though. She was an amateur, an amateur that was loosing valuable chess pieces battle after battle whereas Valtor was a professional that suffered minor losses here and there but still had the most prized figurines in the game. It didn’t take a professional chess player to see that the odds were most definitely not in Bloom’s favor.

He’ll slip sooner or later. Bloom thought with a smile. Even Valtor can make a mistake. And it takes only a second, a slip of concentration, a lapse in judgment and the board will tilt in our direction. Even an amateur can get lucky and stometimes, the pawn can be the most powerful piece capable of settling the final score, so don’t sell yourself short.

Bloom was so distracted by her mental pep talk that she failed to notice one of the guests approach.

“This stuff they’re serving us,” Bloom jumped as a deep melodic voice rang out next to her. “it’s not something I expected from Isis royal court.”

The stranger came to stand almost arm to arm with her, but she also noticed she was almost two heads shorter than him.

“In a good, or a bad way?” Bloom asked with a frown. The stranger has short brown hair styled to a perfection, not even a hair out of place. From what she could see from the side without being too obvious, she noticed he had perfectly straight nose and an overall boyish appearance.

The stranger lifted one of his eyebrows curiously. “Have you tried that?” He pointed to her glass.

“Yes.”

“And how does it taste?”

“Like a hair conditioner.”

He nodded approvingly. “Interesting comparison. Not inaccurate though. Well Miss, I think you just answered your own question.”

Despite all odds, Bloom found herself smiling at stranger’s antics and clever quips. “I am sorry but I don’t think I got your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.”

Okay, rude.

“Well,” she forced out, “would you be so kind to give me your name then?” Bloom really hoped her smile was more convincing than her words.

“There’s no need, Bloom. You already know my name.” Bloom’s smile vanished as the man finally turned to face her, the unique icy colored eyes she only saw on one particular individual looking straight into her wider-than-dinnerplates blue ones. She felt a bead of sweat roll down the thin column of her neck and disappear into her cleavage.

Bloom gulped.

Valtor smirked.

“You!” was the only thing that came out of her mouth.

He shook his head, his eyebrows set in a frown as he let out a disappointed huff. “That is not my name princess. You might wish to try again.”

“What are you doing here, Valtor?” Bloom managed through gritted teeth.

“Oh so you do remember.” Valtor smirked like the cat who got all the cream. “Good. Otherwise I would have to remind you and I really don’t want to spoil anyone’s evening.”

“As if you need me, or anyone, for that!” Bloom whisper-yelled as her eyes darted desperately across the room, trying to locate her team.

“Now now,” Valtor cooed, “it is not polite to look away from the person you’re having a conversation with, Bloom. Someone should’ve taught you proper manners.”

Bloom gasped as she felt the dragon fire raging in her chest, the effect much more intense than she’s ever experienced before. She swayed slightly on her feet and she raised her unoccupied arm to clutch lightly at her chest. The world was spinning in front of her eyes and just as she feared she might topple over, one of Valtor’s large hands grasped her bicep and the forest fire that burned in her turned into smoldering ashes.

Bloom leaned slightly on her side, Valtor’s arm acting like an anchor as she fought to regain her breath.

“What,” she rasped out, her voice hoarse like she just inhaled smoke, “was that?”

“Just a reminder that you should not antagonize me.” Valtor’s voice was cold and sharp and it made her swallow down a snarky response.

“Is that how you snuck past Techna and me?” The pain was gone but her legs still felt wobbly and she was forced to hold onto Valtor in order to remain standing. “A cloaking spell?”

“If the shoe fits…” he trailed off as Bloom stood up to her full height but despite the heels she wore, Valtor noted with a slight amusement, only managed to reach his shoulders. The glare princess of Domino sent him would make a lesser man run to his mom but it only made Valtor grin. Bloom ripped her arm from his grasp and he had to bite his lip to stifle a chuckle that threatened to escape as Bloom stumbled slightly when he willingly let her go.

Bloom mumbled something that even his heighten senses couldn’t pick up. “I apologize darling, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?”

“I said that if you turn around and bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits.”

Valtor was in stupor for a minute, but then a surprised chuckle broke through his lips and his shoulders started shaking from the laughter he tried, and was slowly failing at, keeping contained. “Oh, and she bites.”

Valtor continued laughing sporadically, stopping for a few moments only to start up again. The lines around his eyes crinkled and Bloom found herself fascinated by how melodic and pleasant his laugh sounded. The thought only lasted for a few seconds before Bloom stomped on it with a part of her brain that was still capable of making rational thoughts. Get it together, Bloom.

“If you’re quite done,” Bloom spoke, her cheeks red from rather unorthodox behavior she exhibited few minutes ago, “how about you tell me what are you doing here, finally?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“Forget it, you’re not getting it!” She turned to face him fully, her eyes boring a hole into the side of his head.

Valtor lifted his eyebrows as if to say ‘Really?’, mockery clear in his eyes. “Are you going to stop me?”

Bloom nodded. “I am.”

Valtor shook his head, smile on his face, amused by her confident tone. She thinks she’s a match for me. Silly girl. He was just about to tell her as much when the music that played as more of a background noise, suddenly became louder, loud to the point it drowned out all the chatter in the room.

Bloom almost jumped out of her skin when the orchestra started playing, loudly. She flinched, however, when she once again felt Valtor’s huge hand on her body. This time his palm was not in a direct contact with her skin but the unusual placement of the said appendage caused her to panic. His hand landed on the small of her back and it was quite persistently pushing her forward, straight onto the dancefloor between other couples.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed through clenched teeth, sparks flaring at her fingertips, beginnings of an offensive spell already forming on her vocal cords.

“We are dancing.” His calm voice only made her more angry and she started struggling against the force pushing her forward.

“I don’t want to dance. Let me go.”

He stopped just short of the line separating area designed for dancing and bowed down theatrically while offering his hand to her. “May I have this dance, Miss?”

Few people closest to them turned around at the sound of his voice and Bloom had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to claw his eyes out. “No, you can’t!” She huffed out quietly instead, her neck and cheeks turning red from anger. “I told you, I don’t want to dance and I most certainly do not want to dance with the likes of you!"

“You wound me princess, truly. I don’t bite… not unless you want me to, of course.”

Bloom’s nostrils flared and flames began to dance in her eyes. What insolence.

“Let’s make a deal, princess of Domino.” He interrupted her just as smoke was about to start coming out of her ears. “You let me have this dance, and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know and I promise to tell the truth.”

“Why should I trust you?” She raised her eyebrows but it was obvious she was interested.

“You shouldn’t.” He tilted his head to the side as smile stretched across his lips. “But that never stopped you before.”

Sea blue met the arctic ice. A spark erupted and the coldness of his gaze melted away. “I give you my word.” His hand was still hovering in the air, his palm opened in invitation as he tilted his head in the direction of the dancefloor.

Bloom weighed her options. For as far as she knew, this could be another one of Valtor’s tricks to gain the information from her instead of vice versa. But the burning questions only he had the answers to kept pressing on the part of her brain that was telling her how much of a madness this was. Bloom sighed. Her hand rose hesitantly and slowly took hold of Valtor’s.

“One dance. That’s all you get.”

“That’s all I’ll need.”

He gripped Bloom’s fingers bit tighter as he lead her into the classic pose with his unoccupied hand placed on her lower back, lower than socially accepted when dancing with someone you do not know, but still in the safe zone that didn’t ask for Bloom to knee him in the balls. His other hand loosened around her fingers and now gently supported her palm. Instead of placing her other arm on Valtor’s shoulder, Bloom gripped one side of her skirt so she could move freely and to minimize contact. He looked down , searching her face, but Bloom turned her head in the opposite direction.

Valtor was never the one to blatantly display his emotions but Bloom’s refusal to look him in the eyes was one thing that almost made him boil. He didn’t know why the daughter of those that defeated him had such effect on him and he didn’t like it. He hated not knowing what was running through her head, especially in the place where he was in an obvious disadvantage concerning numbers of the two opposing teams. During his careful observation, he counted eleven of them, and there was only one of him. Not like any of them actually pose any threat, he mused. The only one that is able to even remotely challenge me is the one I’m dancing with and from this proximity she can be easily taken care of. He studied her posture, how her eyes avoided his at all cost, how her back stood stiff like someone stuck a pole to her spine, how tightly she gripped her skirt as he moved with her elegantly. It was obvious she was not enjoying this. Well then, let’s make you even more uncomfortable.

Without warning, Valtor pulled Bloom closer to his body, upper body completely pressed against hers, one of his legs between both of hers as her head snapped up to look at his cheeky smile. Fire was blazing in her eyes but Valtor didn’t care. He thrived on her reactions. Bloom squeezed the hand that was holding hers in warning but Valtor only gripped the flesh of her hip in response. Devils were dancing in his eyes but to Bloom they looked alive for the first time. Gone was the icy look capable of making even the best trained soldier hesitate before rushing into the battle against him.

He’s genuinely amused by this. She thought. If only be wasn’t having fun at my expense, I might’ve let it slide. Valtor twirled her around other dancing couples, his graceful steps never flattering, and it occurred to Bloom for the first time that she actually didn’t step on his toes even once.

“How are you doing this?” She asked him as he swung her away from himself, only to bring her in again, her back to his front, both of his hands gripping her hips. In her peripheral vision, she saw him rise his eyebrow. “I’ve never been good at dancing.”

Valtor smirked. “Perhaps you’ve never had a good enough partner.”

Judging by the tone of his voice, he was mocking Sky openly so Bloom miscalculated and stepped with the heel of her foot onto his polished shoe. She heard him grunt as, what she assumed was a curse, left his mouth. She smiled. If you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.

“What happened to my parents?” Her next question made him quirk an eyebrow and she saw his eyes widen for a second before he regained his bearings.

“What did Faragonda tell you?” He answered her questions with one of his own and that made her irrationally angry for some reason.

“I asked you first.” She bit her tongue before insults started spewing out of her mouth. She realized long ago that snarky comments only made him more angry so she wasn’t willing to risk her one chance. “Answer me.”

“Do you think you are in position to demand anything, heiress of the lost kingdom?” Anger was starting to creep up in his voice as he dipped her low and snapped her back up harsher than necessary.

Bloom gasped as she suddenly found herself in an almost horizontal position. “You promised.”

Valtor assumed their previous position, except this time he lowered his head so his breath would graze her neck when he spoke. He sighed and goosebumps rose on Bloom’s skin as his hot breath washed over her collarbones and sternum.

“The truth is, I do not know what happened to your parents. I was imprisoned before the final battle. As far as I’m aware, ancient witches were the last to see them.”

Bloom swallowed. “That’s not Faragonda’s version.”

Valtor laughed, though his laugh was somehow bitter. “And you, as a good fairy, believe everything that your headmistress says don’t you?”

“And who am I supposed to trust? You?”

“Have you ever wondered why,” he repositioned her hand slightly as he side stepped to avoid the couple that was directly on a collision course with them. The sudden movement made the lock of Bloom’s hair wiggle out of her bun. “your headmistress send bunch of barely legal girls to suicide missions against the powerful enemies such as myself?”

“Because she trusts us?”

“Because she has an underlying motive.” He continued when Bloom scoffed. “Think about it. Can you honestly tell me your headmistress provides you with all the available information before she sends you off into battles?”

His question made her think of all the times Faragonda withheld the valuable information because she deemed it necessary and she bit her lip as realization hit her. “That doesn’t make her evil.”

“I never said it made her evil.” Smirk once again climbed on her face. “She’s cunning alright, but not cunning enough to be considered evil.”

“What’s her underlying motive according to your expertise?”

He shrugged carelessly. “Everybody needs someone to do their dirty work.”

“Like you have Trix?” Bloom raised her eyebrows in question.

“Don’t remind me.” He groaned. “Those three are as incompetent as they get.”

They danced in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few seconds, Valtor’s capable hands leading them. “You never answered my question.” Bloom said.

“What question?”

“How are you doing this?” She tilted her head slightly to their intertwined hands.

The edge of Valtor’s lips turned upwards. “You know how I’m doing it.”

Bloom frowned in confusion. “No, I actually really don’t.”

“Yes you do.” She was about to open her mouth to protest and to ask him what the hell he’s playing at, but he was faster than her. “You just have to let yourself feel it.”

Bloom’s shoulders tensed as the feeling of her native fire burning spread across her whole body. Okay, this is new.

“Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

Bloom locked eyes with Valtor as he bent slightly in the knees, his hands gripped her hips tightly and her hands automatically came to rest on his broad shoulders, as he lifted her up and then, with care she didn’t know he was capable of, lowered her back to the ground. There was something hypnotic about his eyes and Bloom found herself unable to look away as she fought to regain her breath once her feet touched the ground again.

Whatever moment they shared was interrupted by a horrendous sound of alarm blaring and all the lights going off at the same time as explosion sounded somewhere above them. Valtor smirked as Bloom recoiled from him as if he burned her. Her hands lit on fire as people started screaming around her and moving away from them.

Valtor could hear Bloom’s friends calling her name as they pushed through the crowd of panicked guests.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it!?” Anger was obvious in her eyes and Valtor found himself fascinated as the fiery glow from her hands reflected in her irises. What he would do to have her on his side.

He shook himself out of his stupor as he snapped his fingers, letting his disguise slip off. Short brown hair and boyish look was replaced by long strawberry blond hair and his face morphed back into high cheekbones and sharp jaw. “I would love to continue our conversation,” he raised his arm and shot blindly towards the ceiling, blowing a huge hole into it. “however, I believe that my time has run out.”

Distant flashes lit up and Winx finally emerged from the crowd, sparkly outfits and huge wings on point. Bloom was the only one that remained in her normal attire, her hands showing no sign of burning out anytime soon, as she kept shooting daggers at Valtor with her eyes.

“It’s a shame I wasn’t able to answer more of your questions, Bloom. But I don’t think this is our last meeting.” Valtor grinned, thirty two pearly white teeth on display. “Besides,” he drawled as Icy flew from the direction of the vault Amplificarum was locked in, green gem standing out against the pale skin of her hand. “you know where to find me.”

“Solar energy!” Stella’s arm shot up, spell hurtling straight towards Valtor, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash as his hand rose to absorb the spell.

“Stop in the name of the law!” Armed soldiers and specialists started breaking through, their weapons and swords drawn and ready for a fight.

Valtor’s laugh echoed in the room as he shot off towards the hole in the ceiling, his mouth reciting the spell Bloom was quite familiar with. “Have the taste of your own medicine, princess of Solaria.”

Bloom barely had time to put up a shield as Stella’s own amplified spell was hurled back to them, painting the whole room in white hot glow, forcing everyone to close their eyes so they don’t go blind.

When Bloom finally gathered enough strength to open her eyes, Valtor was nowhere to be seen and people, specialists, guards and her team were slowly climbing back on their feet. Remnants of Stella’s spell still lingered in the air, making the room uncomfortably bright and forcing Bloom to squint.

“He did it again.” Stella spoke next to her and Bloom nodded absentmindedly as Stella continued looking around. “He used a heightened version of my spell… it’s a miracle no one’s been hurt.”

Bloom shook her head. “I don’t think he meant to hurt anyone Stell. He obviously needed a distraction to get away.”

“He doesn’t want unnecessary pain and destruction… you told me that’s what he said to you on Andros.”

Bloom nodded. “I think he managed to fulfill his promise, for once.”

Bloom looked up where Valtor made his exit and couldn’t help but to think that the chessboard once again tilted in his favor.

#sparxshipping #bloom x valtor #bloom x baltor #baltor x bloom #valtor x bloom #bloom #valtor #winx #winx club #winx bloom #winx valtor

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floralovebot · 3 years

Note

I really liked your aisha meta about her bonding and i was wondering what you think is her biggest weakness? And the other characters too if that's okay. Thank you:)

Oh thank you!! Hmm I had to think about this one for a second but I'll try to give you some good answers! Though to be fair, I think most of what I listed are things that have already been said aljdhgjladg

I do want to note, I think all of the major characters had room for growth and self-development especially within the first three seasons. We all know that characterization made a huge nose dive after season 4, so I'm not really going to be talking about the later seasons as they aren't super representative of their personalities (however, i will occasionally mention them for certain characters). \

Anyway, onto our beloved characters mental issues and why they should all be in therapy <3

The Winx

Bloom: I think Bloom is actually a very well rounded main character! She has positives and negatives and those don't often conflate with each other (and I think most of her "too perfect" characterization comes from later seasons). Because of that, I had a hard time thinking about what her biggest weakness is because,, she has a few. However, I think something that stays very consistent throughout the series is her escapism. Bloom is a major escapist, especially when she's feeling unworthy. She has a lot on her plate! And a lot of people rely on her, which naturally can lead to some pretty heavy thoughts ("Am I doing the right thing?" "Do I deserve to be the leader?" "What if they're safer without me?"), however those feelings, when they become too much, often leave her feeling like people are truly better off without her. Then she runs off to Gardenia or she shuts people out or she takes on some dangerous mission just to get away from people. Her escapism often leaves everyone, including her, feeling shitty and it would've been nice to see her grow from that.

Stella: Hmmm, so again most of the early characterization gave the characters a couple of weaknesses so I had a hard time thinking of what Stella's biggest one would be. However, something that I've always noticed about Stella that's always made me feel bad, is her extreme I Need To Fit In Or No One Will Love Me attitude. And obviously that goes into her childhood and upbringing, but it's something that stays with her even after meeting the Winx and having all those You're Perfect The Way You Are talks with Bloom. She often changes her personality/attitude/emotions to fit what she thinks other people will like most. But that heavily goes into her insecurities of thinking people only like her because she's pretty or a princess. Stella's a smart girl and she notices how people respond to what she's doing. But when she's changing something about herself to get others to like her and they respond positively to it? That's horrible for her overall self-esteem and to her just confirms her fears that people don't love her for her true self.

Edit: I absolutely don't want to come off as if I'm saying Stella's personality is fake! Here's a further explanation for hers!

Flora: I think some people might disagree with me on this one, but I genuinely believe Flora's biggest weakness is how often she rushes into something. On one hand, it's admirable and shows how strong she is, but on the other hand, it says a lot about how she lets her emotions run her and often doesn't think things through when someone she loves is in danger or she thinks she needs to do something Right Now. Unless someone else prompts it, Flora often doesn't plan or try to think things through rationally. I don't think it's a bad thing to be in tune with your emotions, but it can become a weakness when you only ever think with your heart and what it's feeling at That Moment In Time. Instead of trying to think rationally or make a plan, Flora often just follows her heart immediately, but that can be a bad thing when her heart is hurting and she's not thinking clearly.

Aisha: It's definitely her attitude of needing to appear emotionally strong all the time. Aisha gives more of herself than she receives from others and a lot of that comes from her need to be seen as Reliable and Good. However, that often means she doesn't get the time to sit with how she's feeling or she pushes her emotions down. She doesn't want people to know that she's feeling upset because she doesn't want people to feel bad for her or use their energy to comfort her. Aisha is definitely a "other people have it worse so what happened to me doesn't matter" kind of person and that's often what hurts her the most. She doesn't let herself be vulnerable and often only does so when she truly can't handle it by herself anymore. And I think this heavily goes into her childhood and how she's had to be independent from a very young age. Aisha doesn't know how to let other people in.

Tecna: Hmmm, on one hand I'd like to say it's her internal battle with her logical side vs her emotional side,, so I'm going to. Personally, I think Tecna is a lot better at emotions than she gives herself credit for, and I think that's her biggest weakness. She doesn't give herself any credit when it's something that doesn't come naturally to her. Tecna had to work on being more emotive and reading other people's emotions correctly and by S2 she's already doing so much better than she was, but she refuses to recognize that. Tecna is so stuck in the "what if i'm too logical/not emotional enough and my friends hate me because of it" headspace that she doesn't even see the progess she has made. Honestly, Tecna being too logical/not emotional enough hasn't been a real issue for years and she doesn't even realize that. It's a little ironic actually, she's so caught up in her emotions about being too logical she can't see how far she's come.

Musa: Her trust issues. Personally, I think Musa's biggest weakness is her problem with trusting people. Because she just.. doesn't. Musa has a really hard time letting people in (for rightful reasons) but she once she does let them in, she has a hard time trusting them too. This is most obvious with her relationship with Riven, but it also comes out with the Winx! She's constantly scared that people are going to leave her or that they don't really like her or that they do like her but she's going to end up driving them away and all of that negatively impacts her relationship with others. She just,, doesn't trust people and has an even harder time trusting herself. I think if Musa had been allowed to truly work through that, she would be much happier.

The Specialists

Sky: I think Sky's biggest weakness is pretty obvious! It's that he does not know how to interact with people. I think I'm one of the few people that doesn't actually hate Sky. I hate that, just like the other characters, he had room for improvement and self-realization, which got scrapped almost instantly for Perfect Prince Sky. Sky, like most of the other royal characters, grew up pretty lonely (and his parents are abslute shit). The only other people he would ever talk to are members of his family, other royals, or people who weren't royal but were close enough to it (ie Brandon and even Diaspro depending on which canon you go by). Because of this, Sky has a really hard time interacting with people in a casual setting. He's great in royal settings and all their missions, but that's because he's allowed to and supposed to act all serious and Business Like. When it comes to talking to people in casual settings, he often fails because he doesn't understand "normal" people and he's never been allowed to just,, sort through his own feelings. It would've been amazing to Sky grow from this, because even in the first season you see hints of Sky rejecting royalty and wanting to be normal. MAN I wish Sky got proper characterization, he would've been so much better if he did.

Brandon: Oh man,, I had a really hard time with this one, because Brandon honestly doesn't have a lot of weaknesses? I think something that could be considered a weakness is that,, he's very devoted once he decides he cares about someone. Which isn't bad! But it often puts him in dangerous situations because he wants to save someone. Like anytime Sky gets into trouble, Brandon is for sure right by his side. Or if someone messes with Stella? Brandon's there. And again, this definitely isn't a Bad Thing, but it can put his own life in danger. And in their line of work it often does. However, I do think this is mostly evened out because of Brandon's ability to call for help and think of a plan. He doesn't often just jump into things unless it's absolutely necessary. He's able to think things through clearly and strategize. Sorry anon but I honestly can't think of any Big Weakness for Brandon, because most of his weaknesses are evened out by some positive. (Like, I was going to say he's a bit of a pushover but,, is he? Then I thought well maybe it's because he's ready to die for Sky,, but like. That's his job? Idk man,, any Brandon stans wanna chime in please?)

Timmy: Hmmm I, once again, had some troubles with this one. Timmy has a few weaknesses, mostly in the insecurity region, but I had a hard time figuring out what his Biggest Weakness is. After some thought, I think it's his eagerness to prove himself, specifically when he doesn't need to. I think this definitely evened out in the later seasons once he got some confidence, but in the early seasons Timmy really wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that he was a good specialist, a good friend, a good partner,, just,, everything. He was really set out to prove that he was capable of things. This often put him in dangerous situations that he couldn't handle or something he could handle but was too nervous to. It didn't help that in early seasons some of the other characters doubted his abilities (cough tecna cough). But again, I think this really evened out by S4 and it's not a big problem anymore.

Riven: Ugh goodness where to start.. I think Riven's biggest weakness is actually a mix of Musa's and Timmy's. Riven has a hard time trusting people, especially himself, and he's constantly trying to prove himself. He wants to be seen as reliable and Good and that's where a lot of his competition with other characters, mostly Sky, comes in. But that heavily mixes with his distrust and hatred toward himself. I think most of his Trying To Prove Himself is actually him trying to prove something to himself. He's constantly looking down on himself and that need to prove and be better than other people is a product of that. And I think that's also why he has problems with letting people in. Obviously, he has some general trust issues, with wondering if people just don't like him and what not, but a lot of it is not trusting himself and not letting people get close to him because of that. Riven's biggest weakness is that he doesn't give himself any credit for the progress he's made and is constantly doubting whether or not he's a good person. And that messes with his relationships a lot because he thinks he's not good enough to be around people and that sparks his need to to prove himself. And even when his friends do try to comfort him or say he's enough, he doubts that too. Riven has a lot of problems but most of them go into how much he hates himself.

Helia: Well, as one of the resident Helia stans, I've thought about this a lot. And I've got to say, his biggest weakness is his complete inability to talk about himself. A lot of people think Helia is really good at talking about emotions, but that's only partially true. He's good at talking about other people's emotions. When it comes to himself,,, he's a mess. Helia is consistently really bad at sharing his feelings and even just general tidbits about his life (evidenced by all the times he does/says something and the others get surprised because they never knew that,, years into their friendship). However, this often strains his relationships with people because they end up thinking he hates them or doesn't trust them or something else. While I have my own issues with the later seasons, S5 did a really good job at focusing on this in the show (when it really only ever got hinted at or shown in the comics). The whole Flora/Helia/Krystal thing was a major product of Helia never sharing anything about his own life and Flora's insecurities over if she's good enough. With the mix of being able to talk to people about their feelings, but never his own, it creates this really awkward situation of people just like,, not knowing things about him and then doubting their relationship, but then not being confident enough to express that because Helia still talks to them about their feelings so he must care about them!! .. but does he? It's this internal struggle of he's obviously a friend but why doesn't he ever share anything about himself?? This is even shown in his relationship with Saladin, a literal family member!

I'm.. gonna stop here for now ajghaljdhglj I'm sorry this got so long! And that some of them were shorter than others..

#i did the specialists too because i wanted to talk about timmy and i would feel bad if i only included him #sorry this got so long but i hope you enjoy nonetheless #let me know your thoughts though! especially if you disagree! as long as youre not rude about it i love to hear what others think about thi #winx club #winx meta #answered #anonymous #i didnt proofread this sorry if theres mistakes ahgdljadg #mine.metas

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arctic-comet · 3 years

Text

Osblaine week 2021, Day 2: Lyrics

Over the last several weeks, I have carefully curated a playlist for Osblaine. The final total length of the playlist is 2 hours and 53 minutes.

The playlist can be found HERE

Click "Keep Reading" if you're interested in the introduction, commentary, more graphics and the full tracklist.

For full disclosure, I have to give some of the credit to my amazing fellow Osblaine fangirls @dystopiandramaqueen, @splitscreen and everyone who participated in a certain conversation for the original inspiration and even bringing up some of the songs.

You should look at the playlist in five parts: one section for each season that's aired and one section for the future (because I like to end things on a hopeful note).

The playlist contains a lot of the following:

Music from movie and TV soundtracks

Instrumental music

Remixes

Classics and covers of classics

Country music. I blame Florida. My sincerest apologies.

Some of the songs were chosen because they reminded me of a certain Osblaine scene, and some of them aren't specific to particular scenes but chosen for the general Osblaine vibe. And most of the movie/TV music I chose have been used for couples that remind me of Nick and June.

Part I- Season 1, first 12 songs of the playlist:

Forbidden Love- Abel Korzeniowski, Jasper Randall, The Hollywood Studio Symphony (Romeo & Juliet)

Fireflies- Owl City

Echoes in Rain- Enya

My Ghost- Glass Pear (Bones)

Daring to Hope- Anne Dudley (Poldark)

Everytime We Touch- Cascada

1000 Times- Sara Bareilles

Too Good At Goodbyes- Sam Smith

In Case You Don't Live Forever- Ben Platt

To Find You- Cast of Sing Street, Brenock O’Connor

She- Elvis Costello (Notting Hill)

Miracle- Instrumental- Cö Shu Nie

Hanging By A Moment- Lifehouse

Commentary:

The first instrumental song IMO works as an intro for their entire love story.

The next two songs are more about having the right vibe. It's a little ambiguous and dark because that's how their life is in Gilead.

Leave my door open just a crack

Please take me away from here

'Cause I feel like such an insomniac

Please take me away from here

Why do I tire of counting sheep?

Please take me away from here

When I'm far too tired to fall asleep

***

Wait for the sun

Watching the sky

Black as a crow

Night passes by

Taking the stars

So far away

Everything flows

Here comes another new day

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

***

"My Ghost" is June's POV before they sleep together, wondering if she can trust Nick:

Who can you trust, in this place?

And whom can I put my faith?

If you're real, then show me now,

Who you are

The last two songs are for episode 1x10, for both Nick’s reaction to June’s pregnancy and the beginning of her first escape attempt (arranged by Nick).

She may be the face I can't forget The trace of pleasure or regret May be my treasure or the price I have to pay She may be the song that summer sings Maybe the chill that autumn brings Maybe a hundred different things Within the measure of a day

Part II- Season 2, next 10 songs:

Love Will Keep Us Alive- Eagles

So Easy- Phillip Phillips

Incomplete- James Bay

Rewrite the Stars- The Piano Guys (The Greatest Showman)

I’ll Be Your Shelter- Taylor Dayne

Love Never Fails- Brandon Heath

P.S. I Love You- 05:11- John Powell (P.S. I Love You)

It's A Girl- Mychel Danna (The Time Traveler's Wife)

I'll Stand By You- Josh Groban, Helene Fischer

The Miracle of Love- Eurythmics

Commentary:

The first four songs cover June’s escape attempt and the time they share at the Boston Globe.

"Incomplete" is Nick's POV from when she's on the run and he knows she'll be gone from his life soon. He lives in the moment.

I don't wanna look down

I don't want us to break up in the clouds

All I want is to stay us, to stay with you now

"I'll Be Your Shelter" is for when June's mental health is at its lowest point and he goes to Serena to beg for her to get June help.

What you need is a friend to count on

What you got baby you got someone

Who will stay when the rain is fallin'

And won't let it fall on you

P.S. I Love You takes me back to episode 2.09, Nick’s selflessness in the episode and of course the scene where after telling June that Luke loves her, he tells her that he loves her too, despite believing she probably doesn’t feel the same way.

It's A Girl makes me think of the beautiful moment they share during June's false labor when he helps her out of the van and they climb the steps together.

I’ll Stand By You is for 2.10, Nick holding June after she was heartbroken over Hannah and over what the Waterfords did to her and clinging onto him.

Part III- Season 3, next 6 songs:

Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close- Alexandre Desplat (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)

All I Ask- Adele

Never Enough- Loren Allred (The Greatest Showman)

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever- Taylor Swift, ZAYN (Fifty Shades Darker)

Love is Gone- SLANDER, Dylan Matthew

Constellations- The Oh Hellos

Commentary:

For obvious reasons, it was extremely difficult to pick songs for this season.

The first (instrumental) song is for the beginning of the season with June coming back to the Waterford house and them then saying goodbye to each other on the street.

All I Ask, Never Enough, I Don't Wanna Live Forever and Love Is Gone are for their night together in June’s room at Lawrence’s (the one we didn’t get to see sigh). They know it's possible it's all they'll ever have, and they'll take it, but it'll never be enough.

I will leave my heart at the door I won't say a word They've all been said before, you know So why don't we just play pretend? Like we're not scared of what's coming next Or scared of having nothing left

Look, don't get me wrong I know there is no tomorrow All I ask is

If this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

***

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world but it'll

Never be enough

***

I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me

I know that your love is gone

I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy

Don't tell me that your love is gone

That your love is gone

"Constellations" is for their long separation and the doubts that I'm sure plagued them both during it. Would they ever see each other again?

Part IV- S4, next 12 songs:

All of Me- John Legend

(Everything I do) I Do It For You- Bryan Adams

Iris- Natalie Taylor (City of Angels)

She Was Like A Bright Light- Hans Zimmer, Rupert Greyson-Williams (Winter’s Tale)

Noah's Last Letter- Aaron Zigman (The Notebook)

What’s In The Middle- the bird and the bee (Bones)

ivy- Taylor Swift

Footprints in the Sand- Leona Lewis

Remember Me (Lullaby)- Gael Garcia Bernal, Gabriella Flores (Coco)

On The Nature Of Daylight- Max Richter

My Heart Will Go On- Basil Jose (Titanic)

The Story- Sara Ramirez (Grey's Anatomy)

Commentary:

There were sooo many songs I wanted to include in part IV, but I controlled myself and ended up with this particular dozen.

"She Was Like A Bright Light" and "Noah’s Last Letter" are an instrumental double punch to the gut for Nick’s time in Gilead during episodes 4.07-4.09. The first one is meant for when he finds out June made it to Canada, and the 2nd for is for when he starts to gather info on Hannah to give to June.

"What’s in the Middle" and "ivy" are June’s POV of episodes 4.07-4.09.

"What's In The Middle" has more of an angry and confused vibe, and June was definitely both in episodes 7 and 8.

Losing your head is such a common theme

All your brains are falling out, falling out the open seams

Where is the heart, is the heart of the matter

I will empty out my skull of all this useless chatter

On the other hand, "ivy" has this haunted vibe, but there's also reverence and acceptance, which she begins to achieve in episode 9.

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you

The next three songs are of course all for their reunion in 4.09, and I couldn’t resist including the song that was actually played in the scene.

"The Story" draws the season to a close nicely, with June understanding that her current needs are different from what they used to be and that there’s someone who understands her completely (and it’s not Luke).

You see the smile that's on my mouth

It's hiding the words that don't come out

And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed

They don't know my head is a mess

No, they don't know who I really am

And they don't know what I've been through like you do

And I was made for you

Part V- Season 5 and Beyond, the last 6 songs

Secret Love Song- Little Mix, Jason Derulo

Burn With You- Lea Michele

The Bones- Maren Morris

Feels Like Home- Auli'i Carvalho, Keegan DeWitt

Love Will Find A Way- Piano Covers (Lion King II)

Like I'll Never Love You Again- Carrie Underwood

“Secret Love Song” is a more angsty tune about a love that’s still kept a secret like June and Nick’s love (as far as most people are concerned). Now that they’ve already made out in front of the man who raped and abused June and made Nick watch him do that, I want to believe they can let go of the secrecy in S5, at least when it comes to a few people.

I'm living for that day Someday Can I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dancefloor? I wish that we could be like that Why can't we it be like that? Cause I'm yours, I'm yours Why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dancefloor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? Cause I'm yours Why can't we be like that? Wish we could be like that

***

“Bones” is about a relationship with a strong foundation, which IMO they do have. It will carry them in the future, too. They’re more into each other now than ever before and especially June is coming to terms with how strong that love is. They’ll weather any storm.

When the bones are good, the rest don't matter

Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter

Let it break 'cause you and I remain the same

When there ain't a crack in the foundation

Baby, I know any storm we're facing

Will blow right over while we stay put

The house don't fall when the bones are good

***

“Feels Like Home” is more hopeful. Their home is with each other and I hope that’s something that will be explored more in the future.

Take me, I'm ready

Go slow but go steady

To a place that we can call our own

I wanna know what feels like home

***

“Like I’ll Never Love You Again” is a good conclusion for the playlist. It’s hopeful and a testament to an epic love.

I wanna love you like the rain on a roof

Stronger than a bottle of a hundred ten proof

I wanna take love to places that love has never been

Yeah, I wanna love you like I'll never love you again

And I'll love you again

Oh, and again

#the handmaid’s tale #nick x june #osblaine #osblaineweek2021

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 3 years

Text

I Wonder What It’s Like (2/3) - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Kathy Brandon Pairing: jondami Summary: Damian is a mess. A big, sappy, romantic mess. A/N: This hot *~garbage~*. Sorry.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

He was just walking down the hallway in their team’s shared apartment. A loft that overlooked the city of Chicago, the ridiculous rent paid for by his father, no questions asked.

The little kitten he’d found on patrol the night before was pattering excitedly after him as he walked, Titus protectively on the little thing’s tail while she meowed loudly. Damian was laughing as he walked, and had just felt her jump at his ankle and stumble, so turned to make sure she was righting herself.

But then he froze.

In his attempt to glance down at the kitten, his gaze caught movement nearby, in the bedroom he was passing.

Jon’s bedroom.

The door was open and Jon stood there in front of a mirror, fiddling with the collar of a white dress shirt he was already practically busting out of. Not that Damian noticed the shirt too much. No, he was too busy staring at the perfectly form-fitting black slacks that hugged Jon’s ass and thighs – and that in the mirror he could clearly see they were not buttoned yet.

“Jon…”

He felt the name come out of his mouth without consent, and instantly snapped his lips closed, practically sucked them between his teeth.

Kept staring, though.

Refocused back on the shirt, on the sliver of chest he could still see, and the muscles rippling as Jon shifted. Stared at those long fingers fumbling against each other. Felt his breath catch in his throat, as Jon slowly glanced over his shoulder at him.

Jon blinked and his face brightened, and Damian – motherfucking Damian goddamn Wayne – felt his knees go weak as Jon smiled at him. As his violet eyes shone, and absolute joy radiated from his being.

“Hey, D.” He said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I…” Damian cleared his throat, thanking his lucky stars. Jon had heard him, but he hadn’t heard his…tone. Good, that was good. As he exhaled his relief, he glanced down and saw the kitten, Titus still tight on her heels, stomping forward into Jon’s room. “Theadora!”

The kitten mewed grumpily as Damian stepped into the room and swooped her up into his hands. She wiggled even as he held her to his chest, and tried to bite at his fingers.

“We do not enter rooms uninvited.” He scolded, touching his finger to her nose. He looked back up at Jon. “My apologies.”

Jon snorted. “You know you and your animals are welcome any time. I don’t mind.” He turned back to the mirror. “In fact, I enjoy it. Always a nice break.”

Damian hummed, biting the words on his tongue. A nice break from what, doing nothing? No, that would be rude. He was working on not being rude, on saving the sarcasm for when it was warranted, not every word out of his mouth. He was better than that. He should be better than that.

(Especially to Jon.)

“…What’s the occasion?” Damian nodded towards him. “I don’t recall you being much into suits.”

“I’m not. It’s some shindig at the Planet. Mom’s getting an award. Again.” Jon chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “She said since I’m barely home any more the least I could do is come tonight.”

Damian couldn’t stop his eyes from darting downwards again. “I doubt it’s an…ahem…open-trouser affair…”

Internally, Damian winced at himself. It wasn’t sarcasm, but it was still rude. Jon wasn’t an idiot. Obviously he wasn’t done getting dressed. There was no need to tease. There was no need to open his stupid mouth.

But Jon laughed anyway. “I’m getting there, I’m getting there.” He stuck his tongue out thoughtfully, returning to his task at his collar. “I’m going to tuck my shirt in, but I can’t get these stupid buttons up top, here.” He tried for another second, then spun back to Damian. “A little help?”

Damian felt himself smiling, almost instinctively stepping forward. “Sure.”

Jon cooed as he grabbed Theadora from Damian’s hands, petting her as Damian took over button duty, gently folding the little round plastic through the fabric of the shirt. He ignored how close he was to Jon’s skin, how easily it would be to reach out and just touch him.

(Just caress his jaw, just lean forward and kiss him, just–)

The buttons were finished, and he quickly stepped back. Jon twisted his torso back towards the mirror. “Perfect.”

But then he turned back to Damian with a sheepish grin. “Help with one more thing?”

Damian shrugged.

And he watched, almost bewildered, as Jon didn’t give his kitten back (much to Titus’s disappointment in the doorway) but instead placed her on top of his head, right in the center of his nest of curls. Then he turned towards his bed, hastily shoving the shirt tails into those unbuttoned pants before grabbing a red ribbon that was lying across his comforter.

“I know you’re going to think it’s cheesy, but it’s kind of an inside thing between me and my dad.” He spun around, balancing Theadora perfectly, and held the ribbon out. “But I never learned how to properly tie one.”

Damian glanced between Jon’s kitten crown, and the ribbon in his hand. “A…bowtie?”

“It’s a thing, I promise. Inside joke.” He walked closer. “Please?”

Damian sighed, annoyed that his default exhale made him sound put off, when in reality, he really wasn’t. Not at all. He was happy to help.

He was always happy to help Jon.

But he took the ribbon and looped it carefully around Jon’s neck. Ignored the urge to pull the other forward with it, ignored those thoughts already popping back into his brain, and began to knot it.

“…I’m really only going to make my mom happy.” Jon let out his own sigh as he finally buttoned the stupid pants. Damian was happy to have a task, anything to stop him from looking down again. “These things are so boring.”

Damian snorted. “Welcome to my life.”

“Hey, I bet your dad will be there. And Diana. Apparently this is like. A huge award. Wouldn’t be surprised if Bruce Wayne showed up for some reason. You know, beyond my dad inviting him and Diana as a friends or something.”

“Unfortunately I do not know my father’s schedule.” Damian hummed. “I can call and ask if he or any of the family are going. While my siblings are complete Neanderthals, they might ease some of your boredom.”

“Or better yet…” Jon grinned. “Why don’t you just come with me? I’m sure no one will mind if I bring a plus-one. Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve been home too, right? Might be nice to see your dad.”

Damian laughed before he thought about it. “Absolutely not.”

And he wanted to absolutely stab himself, immediately, at the disappointment that flashed through Jon’s eyes, the way his smile faltered just a little. All because Damian laughed.

At him. In his face.

God, he was the worst.

“I mean,” Damian coughed. He slowly pulled Jon’s bowtie through its last loop, and then carefully tugged Theadora from Jon’s hair. “I’m on monitor duty tonight. And the girls are already out for their own night off.”

Jon’s grin, though it never disappeared, softened now. “D, when was the last time you took a night off?” Damian opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out because he didn’t have one. “The world would survive if all four of us were out acting like normal people for one night.”

“That’s how all apocalypse stories start, isn’t it?” Damian mumbled, keeping his gaze lowered. “Besides, if it’s like you said, half of the Justice League will be at this event. Someone needs to be out there watching.”

“No one said it had to be you.”

Damian glanced up, felt his cheeks warm as he realized Jon had stepped closer. Was staring gently down at him, that simple smile still on his face.

But Damian was a coward.

Emotions were a weakness. Wanting was selfish, and selfishness was unbecoming. Rejection was a useless pain and so easily avoidable.

He would not mess this up. He would not mess up one of the only friendships he had. He would not mess up Jon.

So he stepped back, an apologetic smile on his face. “Enjoy your party, Jonathan.”

He scurried from the room with his pets before he could see Jon frown.

“Damian?!” Jon practically screamed, even over Maya’s attempts at soothing him. He smacked his hand against the door again. “D, please, just open the door!”

Damian, instead, turned away from it, rubbing his fist angrily against the tears pouring from his eyes.

“He just wants to help.” Kathy whispered from the desk. “You know him.”

“And he knows me.” Damian spat. “He knows better than to do this.”

“You just heard your mother might be dead, what else did you think he was going to do? Shrug it off and go play video games?” Kathy snapped back. “You’re his best friend, of course he’s going to want to comfort you. Take care of you.”

“I don’t need it. I don’t need comforted. I don’t need…” His face twisted in disgust. “Taken care of.” He shook his head. “I don’t even need you here.”

“Well, sucks I was there when Batman called and can move faster than you, huh?” Kathy smirked. “Jon may respect your boundaries, but that doesn’t mean I have to.” She let her smile drop. “Besides, I know what it’s like. Losing…questionable family. Not knowing how to feel about it. I…I get it.”

“…I know.” Damian sighed. Sniffed and ran his hand across his nose. “I know you do, Kathy. And I…despite everything, I do appreciate it.”

“Damian, please!” Jon whined.

“I can’t.” Damian whispered, twisting purposefully away from the door. “I…I can’t look at him right now.”

“Why, because he’s trying too hard? Or because he wouldn’t get it?”

“Both, maybe.” Damian shrugged, reaching for the tissue box on his nightstand. “And because…it’s embarrassing.”

“What is?”

“I’m mourning the not-yet-confirmed-death of a mass murderer, and here the son of fucking Superman wants to make sure I’m okay.” He shook his head. “This is not worth his time. I’m not worth his time. When’s he going to see that? Why does he think I am?”

“He’s your…best friend.” Kathy reiterated, but she seemed to struggle with the words. Like best friend wasn’t supposed to mean that. “He just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am okay. I’m always okay.” He dabbed the tissue at his eyes. “I have to always be okay.”

“Why, because you’re the son of Batman and anything less than okay is a weakness?” Kathy mocked. “I thought you were over that line of thinking. Years ago.”

“It’s…I am, it’s not just that, it’s…” Damian sighed, dropped to sit on the edge of his bed. He pulled the photo of him and his mother back into his hands, the one he’d had in his desk drawer up until his father had called. “If I’m okay, people think I’m good. That I’m a good person.” He gently touched Talia’s face. The smile was warm in this photo. It wasn’t always. “If I’m not okay. I’ll…then I’ll go back to being bad. I’ll lose control. I’ll…be that monster again. The one I used to be.”

Kathy blinked. “And?”

Damian waited a beat. Listened as Jon continued to bang on the door, desperately call his name.

“Jon deserves better than a monster as a best friend.” Damian whispered.

“Wha…that’s it? You have to be okay for his benefit?” Kathy drawled. “That is the most convoluted bullshit I’ve ever heard. Especially because Jon loves you no matter how messed up you are. Jon loves all of us, no matter how messed up we all are.”

Damian remained silent. Listened as Jon pleaded with him still to open the door.

“Meanwhile he’s crumbling at the mere idea that something’s wrong with you and he can’t personally fix it.” Kathy grumbled, standing from the chair. She paused there, for a moment, looking between Damian and the door. “…You know?”

Damian glanced up at her.

“If you asked me, it almost sounds like you’re more upset about upsetting Jon than your mother potentially being dead.”

Damian didn’t answer the accusation, just shrunk deeper into himself, into his own brain. Let guilt swirl in his gut, both for Jon and Talia.

He closed his eyes. He truly was a monster, wasn’t he? In more ways than one.

After another second, Kathy sighed, and Damian opened his eyes to see her moving. “…You two, I swear.”

Damian watched as she walked over to the door, throwing it open.

“Jon!” She yelled. Jon jerked back at her tone. “Give it a rest, okay?!” Gentler, as he lowered his hand. “He’s fine. He just needs a little time to himself.”

Jon, the epitome of a kicked puppy, glanced over Kathy’s shoulder. “D?”

Damian sniffed, wiped at his eye. “It’s fine, Jon. I’ll…be out later.”

“You shouldn’t be alone right now, D.” Jon rattled off immediately. “I can-”

“You can leave him alone.” Maya cut off, pulling Jon back. “Now you saw him, okay? With your own eyes. He is alive and he’s in his room.”

“Damian…”

“Don’t worry on my account, Jon. Please.” Damian tried, offering a weak smile. It just made Jon frown deeper. “I’m fine. In fact, feel free to take Kathy with you.” Kathy glanced back at him. “I give you full permission to give him all the details of my father’s phone call, and everything we’ve talked about, if you believe it will help.”

Kathy looked at him for a moment, then rolled her eyes.

“You need therapy.” She sighed. Then she turned to Jon. “Both of you.”

Jon blinked dumbly as she took his other arm and began to pull him down the hall. Maya leaned into the room to grab his doorknob and gave him a wink.

“Preferably some couples therapy.” She hummed. “And, like, soon. Or Kathy and I are gonna lose our minds.”

She pulled the door shut. Damian just sighed, rubbed at his tears, and stared at the picture of his maybe-dead mother.

Damian Wayne didn’t dream.

He had nightmares. He had flashbacks, absolutely. He woke up in cold sweats, screaming, crying, whatever. You name it.

But he didn’t dream. He had nightmares, or nothing at all.

So…this didn’t make sense. This didn’t make any sense. He was lucid, he knew this wasn’t real. He recognized it as a dream.

Because he didn’t own an antique shop.

But here he was, behind the counter of one, refurbishing an old cabinet, carefully painting along its edges, listening contently as a pair of customers were rung up.

By…by Jon.

“Thanks for stopping by K.W. and Sons. Have a great day!” He called as the old couple waved and walked out the front door, bell above the door chiming. As soon as the door slammed shut, Jon gave a happy sigh. Damian, still facing the cabinet, sensed more than heard Jon turn around. “…I still can’t believe you did it.”

“Hm?” Was all the response Damian had.

“I cannot believe you found the book Mr. Hamada used to propose to his wife.” Suddenly there was a weight on Damian’s back, arms wrapping around his waist. “Like…how do you find that? How do you even know where to start looking? They didn’t even realize they’d accidentally given it away until three years after the fact!”

“Well, for starters,” Damian laughed as Jon kissed his cheek. “It’s nice to know a private detective or two. Then it’s just a simple retracing of steps.” Damian placed his paintbrush along the edge of his paint tray. “Also – the internet is a great tool. There’s only so many books with the phrase ‘will you marry me?’ written in English and Japanese in the front cover. That kind of thing goes viral all the time.”

Jon hummed, leaning his chin into Damian’s shoulder. “Mrs. Hamada cried when I brought it out. It was sweet.”

“Such a shame I missed it.” Damian drawled cheekily. Jon squeezed his sides.

“Don’t be rude.”

Damian turned his head, keeping his smirk. “You love it when I’m rude.”

Jon hummed again, glancing downwards. Damian was so distracted by the lashes splaying across his rosy cheeks that he didn’t notice Jon dipping his finger into the pastel teal paint until he was dabbing it against his nose.

“I don’t know if I said love.”

“I don’t know.” Damian said thoughtfully, leaning over until his nose brushed Jon’s, smearing the paint against his skin as well. “I think you did.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Nuh-uh, times a thousand.” Jon countered, dragging his nose along Damian’s jaw to make a bigger mess. At the same time, he squeezed Damian’s torso again in an attempted tickle. “No take-backsies.”

And despite the childishness, Damian laughed, leaned into Jon’s embrace. Accepted paint-filled butterfly kisses and real ones too. Gently twisted in Jon’s arms to face him completely, and take a tender hold of Jon’s face.

He had a beard here. A small one. And it was graying. How old were they? Do you age in dreams? Damian found himself not caring.

He let his laugh drop into a sigh, stroking a thumb across Jon’s face as he stared into his eyes. After a moment, he smiled. “I love you.”

Jon beamed. Like it was the first time he’d ever heard it. Like it was the only thing he ever wanted to hear in his whole life. He pressed his forehead to Damian’s and closed his eyes. “I-”

“I love you too.”

Damian jerked, his head shooting up.

Wha…what?

He blinked rapidly, wiping at his lip instinctively. There was drool there. Since when did he drool while he slept?

Since when was he sleeping?

He blinked a few more times, the room becoming clearer. It was still a dark space, but he recognized it. Their apartment living room. The girls were in the loveseat nearby, also asleep. There was light coming from the TV across the room.

Oh yeah. It was their monthly team movie night.

“You okay?” Came a whisper to his right. He flinched again, spinning around to see Jon staring down at him with an amused look. Damian let his eyes dart around, and the situation became clear.

He’d fallen asleep during the movie. On Jon’s shoulder.

And dear god, he was drooling.

“Uh…y-yeah.” Damian stuttered, throat dry. “Is the movie over?”

“Just about. Guess I’m the only one who made it.” Jon laughed softly. “I don’t blame you though. It’s pretty boring.”

Damian nodded silently, trying to look at anything but Jon. Glanced over to their teammates. No modesty there, Maya had Kathy’s head pressed to her breasts, her own legs contorted around Kathy’s waist. He frowned – there was no way that was comfortable for either of them. Freaks.

“You can…uh…go back to sleep, if you want.” Jon murmured. Damian turned back to him as he yawned. “I was about to fall asleep myself, actually. And…honestly, I don’t feel like getting up to go back to my own bed.” Even in the dark, Damian noticed Jon’s cheeks brighten. “And, uh…you’re warm.”

Damian smirked. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Jon snorted, fiddling with a nearby blanket, and throwing it over the both of them as Damian resituated himself closer. Without a word, Jon slouched, throwing his arm across the back of the sofa, forcing Damian closer into his side.

“Team slumber party.” Jon said absently. “Been a while since the four of us did one of these.”

“Indeed.” Damian breathed. His heart was pounding as dared to lay his head back on Jon’s shoulder. Waited for the other shoe to drop, waited for Jon to say something. To tell him off.

Instead, Jon just…leaned his head against Damian’s in return. Whispered: “Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian – giddy, frozen, and oh-so pleased – just closed his eyes once more.

“…Goodnight, Jon.”

#jondami #jon kent #Damian Wayne #kathy branden

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a-libra-writes · 3 years

Text

Salt & Snow - Chapter 5

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: The daughter of House Caspian begins to realize her place in a world of strict tradition and hierarchy. A tragedy strikes Winterfell, bringing her closer to the Starks.

The brush slid across the thick paper, making a beautifully straight line. The black paint was bold against the paper, which wasn’t completely white, but it was the closest she’d seen, almost as white as snow. What a wonderful birthday gift. Y/N had a thin wooden palette that she perched on her lap, allowing her to take the paper anywhere and paint what she saw. She already had ideas of what to send Ned, although transporting a painting without damaging it would be troublesome. Maybe it was best to just keep it in Winterfell until he came back? He had to return soon, he was seventeen. It had to be soon.

It’s what Lyanna talked about often, and Y/N didn’t blame her. She wanted him back too, though maybe for different reasons. She was pleased he still kept writing to her, entertaining her childish whims, although she didn’t feel childish anymore. They didn’t talk about ‘childish’ topics, either, it was always… all sorts of things. Y/N could write to Ned about anything on her mind, and he did the same.

I hope we can talk as easily. What if he comes back and I don’t know what to say? Y/N wondered if that was a silly thought. She refocused on her painting, dabbing a small brush into the paints she’d set up beside her. There weren’t many colors to work with, but that made it an interesting challenge. The training yard was busy this late, so she had plenty of subjects to observe. Painting moving figures was a new challenge. It wouldn’t be a perfect still life, instead, she’d try her own composition of movement and action.

Y/N hummed to herself as she worked. She had only two hours before the sun would set, but she was confident she could finish the rest of it in her room.

“Don’t most girls paint flower fields and vases?”

“I’m a lady,” Y/N responded. She didn’t look up from her painting right away, wanting to finish a few more brush strokes. “You should always be gracious to a lady, especially if you’re a future ‘Lord Stark’.”

Brandon grinned. “I was going to scare you, but I decided to be nice instead. That’s very gracious, I think.”

Now you sound like your little brother. Y/N set her brush down next to the paints. She observed Brandon was still in his traveling clothes. “When did you return?”

“Just over an hour ago. It was a slow ride, Ser Roderick wouldn’t let me go ahead of the escort.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Y/N smiled at his impatience. “How was the Rills?”

“The same as always. Next week I’m going to see Lord Manderly. While I’m there, I could stop by your family’s castle. Perhaps I could bring a gift to them.”

“That would be wonderful. You know they would love to have your company, my lord.”

Brandon’s smile was infectious, Y/N had to admit. Thank the gods he was over that irritating phase he had before, acting like he was too grown-up and superior to bother with Y/N and his younger siblings. Well, he could still be irksome to Benjen and Lyanna, but they paid him back tenfold with their usual mischief. Y/N was just pleased he acted like the lord he should be around her. Pleasantries made things easier, and it really would be kind of him to bring her father a pelt or her mother a rare book.

Right now, he was leaning over to see what she was painting, as he’d often been doing the past year. She knew he had no interest in art, but he still made a point to ask about what she was working on.

It’s good for him to at least feign interest and learn about others. Maybe all those scoldings from Lord and Lady Stark are finally sinking in. Y/N thought. She showed him what she’d been working on, groups of men at swordplay. “They’re finally used to my sketching, I think. At first they gave me peculiar looks.”

“It’s because you were staring.” That charming smile turned to an amusing pout. “You shouldn’t be staring at strange men, Y/N, or drawing them.”

“They aren’t strange at all! I know their names, and they’re sworn men, besides. Are you just upset I haven’t drawn you?”

She was teasing like Lyanna and Benjen did, but he didn’t respond like she thought. Brandon actually huffed. “Better me than some old guardsman.”

“Sit down, then.” Y/N gestured to the seat next to her on the bench, the side not covered in paints and paper. “Portraits are always good practice.”

Brandon looked at the spot, only waiting a moment before taking a seat. He was still windblown from the road, smelling like horses and leather, but it wasn’t too unpleasant. Y/N fought the urge to smooth out his hair — it was such a mess, but he wasn’t a boy. Even Benjen was getting too old for her fussing.

“So you know, I’m not the sort to embellish.” Y/N said, her hand darting across a blank piece of paper. Messy sketches were fine for something like this. “So I will be drawing that unruly hair and those red ears.”

“They aren’t red,” Brandon grumbled and rubbed at the ears in question.

Y/N didn’t look up from her drawing. “They are. So are your cheeks. Are you cold?”

“I’d be a poor Stark if weather like this got me cold. Shouldn’t you be concentrating?”

“I am.” Y/N had to glance up to make sure the eye shape was right. Brandon had such an amusing expression, it was making her work difficult. “If you could be still, it would be easier.”

Brandon said nothing to that, only furrowing his brows further. It was startling how much he looked like Lord Stark, while Lyanna took after her mother. Benjen was a clear mix of the two, but all of them had that long face and dark coloring. She pictured Ned’s face in her mind, trying to remember the last time she saw him. Gods, was that three years ago? Maybe four? He must look so different now. Taller, with a proper sword and the skills to back it up - and what about those grey eyes? Would they be darker or lighter? Did he finally cut that brown hair, to better fit in with the Eyrie, or did he keep it long and Northern?

“What are you smiling about?” Brandon asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Y/N said Someone in the distance drew her attention away, which she was grateful for. She waved at him. “Ben!”

Brandon scowled at his little brother walked up. Benjen was already taller than Y/N, thanks to his spindly limbs. He looked around at the art supplies and Brandon’s awkward posture. “I hate it say it, but you’d be better off with a different subject, Y/N. There’s only so much you can do with this one.”

Benjen dodged out of the way of his older brother’s grip. His reflexes were nothing to sneeze at. “Big words from a skinny rat!” Brandon said, getting up to grab at his brother again, but Benjen was too quick. The older Stark may have been as big as his father now, but he had a certain … lack of grace. No doubt he was tired from the trip, too.

“Should I use smaller words?” Benjen easily danced around him.

“Do this somewhere else!” Y/N laughed. That was the end of the little sitting session, then. Brandon couldn’t be still after getting riled up; he was like a dog in that way. “Be careful, would you?”

“I’m just going to teach him a lesson—!” Brandon said, finally getting Benjen in his grasp. He cursed when his brother easily twisted out of his grip and hit his nose. It wasn’t a real punch, but it still hurt, and Brandon shook his head while Benjen unhooked his sword from his belt.

“Thanks!” Benjen scurried off, carrying the sword that was too heavy for him to actually wield. Y/N rolled her eyes at how Brandon predictably ran after him with a fresh new string of curses. He had only been home a few hours before he was going back to silliness with his brother. Lyanna would have joined in too, had she been here. Their latest pasttime was stealing the beautiful new sword Brandon was so proud of. Benjen just liked to stir up trouble, but Lyanna was sour she couldn’t have steel of her own.

What has she been doing today? Y/N hadn’t seen much of her friend today. Lyanna didn’t enjoy the last feast, which was a small affair - only half a dozen families were there, and not all their members - but she was still put off. Y/N hadn’t known Lyanna to retire before her, but that night, she did. It was usually the fatigued Lady Stark that was the early departure, not her fiery daughter.

Thinking about it now, Lyanna was unusually quiet through breakfast this morning, and she had been riding most of the day. Y/N considered that maybe she should have gone with her, even if being near a horse still made her shudder. She could have at least sat on the edge of the riding field and watched Lyanna. Maybe she wanted to be alone. If she really wanted me there, I know she would have dragged me.

With all her art supplies carefully packed up, Y/N returned to the castle and planned to find out what Lyanna’s mood was. I could be overthinking everything. We’re women now, four and ten years, we don’t have to cling about each other anymore.

Y/N nodded to the servants and guards when she saw them, giving a smile to those she knew well. They had long been familiar, pleasant faces that she relied upon. It recently occurred to Y/N that she knew them better than the servants of Whitetide, whose faces were rapidly disappearing from her memory. Maybe if her parents didn’t visit twice or thrice a year, and if she didn’t love them so much, she’d begin to lose their faces, too.

Their shared bedchamber was warm from a low-burning fire in the hearth. Y/N set her supplies down on her desk before shedding her thick cloak. It was fastened with a lovely silver manta ray that had a tiny pearl for an eye, a gift from Lady Stark herself. Y/N’s name day had passed a few months ago, and while her parents couldn’t visit, her second family was right there beside her. Lady Stark’s hands had become pale and thin, but she still wanted to fasten the pin herself after presenting it to Y/N. Then she patted her head like adults did to children, but Y/N couldn’t mind it.

Y/N was so caught up in turning the little manta ray in her hands, she didn’t hear the bedroom door open and close. The stomping of feet made her jump, and she swiveled to see Lyanna yanking off her riding boots and shaking the snow off them in the most unladylike way.

“So you were riding all day,” Y/N said, setting the pin into her modest jewelry box. She offered a smile. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Lyanna didn’t respond right away. She pulled at her cloak instead, tossing it on one of the chairs by the hearth. Y/N’s smile fell. There was an obvious dark cloud around her friend. Lyanna kicked her boots aside and huffed as she sank into an overstuffed chair. She was becoming too leggy to curl up into it like a child.

“Why in the seven hells can I not wear riding trousers?” She said irritably. “I’m sure the washerwomen are sick of cleaning the smell out of my dresses.”

Y/N sat in the chair across from her, settling herself into it. “And the horsehair.”

“It itches terribly. If I had a tunic, it wouldn’t be so bothersome, nor would the branches in my way.” Lyanna picked a leaf off her sleeve. Trouble was brewing in her grey eyes. There was fire in them even without the hearth lighting her face, a natural energy that possessed her entire person. Lyanna was more wolf than any of them, and when she hunched in the chair with her long legs drawn to her chest, she looked like a trapped one.

Y/N waited for her to speak first. There was something on her friend’s mind, but she had to find the words. Once she had them, Lyanna said, “You weren’t bothered at that feast. The last one, with the Karstarks and Glovers and Cassels.”

It was strange for her to bring it up now, but Y/N had just been thinking about it as well. Overall, Y/N would dare to say she enjoyed herself, even if the Karstark boys were too blunt in their desire to dance with her.

“I wasn’t too bothered. It wasn’t as crowded as it usual; I could hear the music for once. I was able to dance for a while, and the lords and their sons behaved.” Y/N didn’t know what else to say. “You left early. You didn’t want to dance?”

“Of course not!” Lyanna responded so sharply, it startled her old friend. “Why would I? Why would you?”

Y/N had no idea what Lyanna meant by that. That embarrassing dance with Roose Bolton a year ago had made her self-conscience of how clumsy her movements were. Lady Stark was delighted that Y/N took an interest in learning grace and how to carry herself better; and didn’t it make sense to test it out? Now that she didn’t overthink the steps, she could enjoy the exercise and the music. The company was good, and when she was tired, she japed around with Benjen and little Jory.

With all those racing thoughts, Y/N simply said, “I enjoy dancing, if that’s what you mean. What’s the matter with that?”

Lyanna shook her head, her brown hair falling farther out of a braid that was already coming undone. She’d lost another set of silk hair ribbons. “I don’t know how you stand it. You’re just a prize to them, you know, a bauble. You shouldn’t even amuse them. Neither of us should.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“The men! The lords or their sons, whichever! We’re just stupid little brides to them. Didn’t you notice them looking at you? Shoving their sons at you? Lord Karstark had them all lined up! And even if they’re married, they’ll leer!”

“That’s… that’s ridiculous, Lyanna,” Y/N stammered. “Where did this come from?”

“Y/N, we’re women grown now!” Lyanna was bursting with energy and frustration that she couldn’t get out fast enough. “My mother married at six and ten! It’s nearly time for us, time for arrangements! Soon every lord will be nibbling at my father’s heels to take me off his hands, and no doubt your own lord father has received letters from all the ones you danced with.”

“Lyanna. Did someone tell you something?” Y/N asked. She was already trying to avoid thinking of the future, and Lyanna had never discussed it with her. She thought her friend didn’t think of it at all. “Before you, Brandon will marry, and that hasn’t even been discussed.”

“Of course it has! Why would they tell us? They can marry me off without finding him a bride, and without asking what I think.” Her cheeks were burning with red anger now. “I’m a Stark, so I can’t stay in the North. They’ll send me away somewhere — somewhere South, because where else? I’ll have to leave Winterfell, while my brothers and everyone I love stay!”

Y/N went to Lyanna, taking her hands in her own. She squeezed them tight. “Where did all this come from? Have your parents been talking?”

“No one needs to tell me. It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Lyanna said, looking Y/N right in the eyes. “That’s what we’ve got to look forward to, Y/N. The feasts aren’t meant to be fun for us. Maybe for the men, but not for us. We’re there to be picked and chosen, like prize fillies.”

Lyanna squeezed their hands tight, so tight it hurt right away. She stared at Y/N’s clean nails and smooth palms. Except for the occasional smudges from paint, they were always like this. Lyanna looked at her own, already becoming calloused at the palms and thumb, often edged with dirt around her nailbeds.

Y/N was at a loss. Her friend’s harsh words were true enough; she was well aware of what their duties as women were. It crossed her mind now and again, the thought of marriage and that she’d have to return home eventually so her parents could begin to plan. She’d push those thoughts away, hoping the day would come slowly. She didn’t want to leave Winterfell, or her dear friends.

Still, she said, “It… It has to happen eventually. Our parents aren’t cruel, they wouldn’t give us terrible husbands, and they’d talk to us before any arrangement. When we have to leave Winterfell —”

“You won’t.” Lyanna pulled their hands apart. “You’ll be staying here, Y/N, and I’ll be sent away.”

“What? No, when my parents are ready arrange a match, they’ll call me back to Whitetide.”

“You aren’t going back! Isn’t it obvious? You’re going to marry one of my brothers!”

After that statement, the only sound in the bedroom was the crackling of the fire. Lyanna didn’t back down. In this light, her Stark eyes weren’t grey at all, only hot steel.

“How do you know that?” Y/N said. With the loss of Lyanna’s hands, she nervously tugged at end of her long sleeves. “Did … did someone say —?”

“No one has to! I thought you knew! You’re fourteen, a woman grown, and my parents haven’t sent you back, nor have your’s asked for you. When they meet, they’re always whispering and glancing around. Brandon will marry outside the North, as the oldest son, and Ned will marry inside, as the second. Benjen will serve Winterfell. It’s how these matters are done, Y/N.”

Y/N’s throat closed as she choked up. Her blood was rushing in discomfort. She didn’t want to fight, she wished they could just change the subject. What brought this on? She’d never seen Lyanna in a mood like this. “You don’t — you don’t know that. Maybe my parents will send for me in a month. We don’t know.”

“Maybe they will, but when it’s time for you to leave, they’ll send me away, too. There’s a reason mother doesn’t care if I spurn the lordlings here.”

Lyanna’s anger had broken again, now it was just frustration and sadness. The two girls stood in silence. The flames of the fire made shadows in the room, and that was the only thing that moved for some time. The shadows seemed to grasp at the two of them, little fingers reaching for their dresses and hair. Y/N was the one who stepped forward, wanting to make it better.

“We’ll always be friends,” Y/N said, trying to keep her own choked up voice steady. “No matter what. I won’t ever forget you. I’ll write you a dozen letters a month if you get sent to the south.”

Lyanna was tired. She couldn’t attempt a smile, but she said, “That’s more than you write to Ned. If he ended up in a green field instead of a mountain, would you have sent more?”

“No, the dozen is only for you.” Y/N said, even if she cursed the slowness of her letters to the Eyrie so many times, it felt like a mantra. She touched Lyanna’s shoulder. “Let’s ready for supper, Lyanna. You’ve been riding a long time.”

Lyanna only reluctantly went along with her. After dinner, they changed into their nightgowns and brushed each other’s hair, as usual, but there was no laughter and joking this time. When they huddled under the furs, Lyanna faced away, still deep in her thoughts. Y/N didn’t know what else to say, if anything at all would help, so she closed her eyes.

“What are you reading?” Benjen’s long hair swung back and forth as he hung upside down. Y/N looked up, wondering when he managed to scramble right above her. Just a few minutes ago he was struggling to get on the first branch.

“A letter,” Y/N said, “Although I think you already knew that.”

Benjen grinned. “I did, and I know who it’s from.” He swung back up on the branch and easily moved himself to a standing position. He reached for another branch and lifted himself with ease, starting his disappearance into the leaves. With each branch he climbed, a few leaves fell down. Y/N pulled one from her hair.

She rested against the trunk and returned to her letter. Ned was writing about Robert’s attempt at jousting. He much preferred the melee, but ladies preferred the jousting, he said. Y/N was pleased Ned stayed out of all that. He also tried to doodle a little manta ray, in response to the direwolves and cats and deer she often drew on the margins of her letters. They were… arrow-y looking. Close enough.

I’ll have to pick up some skills from you the next time we meet. I don’t think I’d be a good student, but just watching you paint with my own eyes would be enough. You’ve written about it before, but I think hearing you talk about it would be much different. I want to you to tell me.

Y/N closed the letter hastily, wondering if her beating heart and sweaty palms were showing on her face. She glanced around and caught eyes with Brandon. She kept noticing his staring in the past hour, even though he was across the training yard trying to practice. It was a little strange. Are there leaves in my hair again? She touched her hair from the top of her head to her pearl. Brandon seemed annoyed, so she’d prefer he kept his gaze to himself.

The tree branches shook above her, and she heard feet scuffling around. “Ben, be careful!” Y/N called upward. “You shouldn’t climb so high!”

Benjen either didn’t hear her, or was pretending to not hear. Y/N sighed, folding her letter, stashing it in her belt and standing up. She craned her head, trying to spy the wiry boy through the leaves. He may have been a year younger, but she fretted over him from time to time, thinking of her little brothers back in Whitetide.

“Maybe he’ll climb high enough to catch a cloud and float away.” Brandon was beside her before she knew it, and Y/N was glad he didn’t seem as bothered as she thought. On the contrary, he was amused.

“Maybe,” Y/N giggled. She heard more rattling, but it didn’t sound like leaves. It was metal chains, and coming from a different direction. Behind the two of them, the maester approached them as fast as he could, the old man breathing hard as the chains swayed around his neck. He didn’t seem to care about the mud dirtying the end of his robes.

“What’s happened?” Brandon asked while the maester tried to catch his breath. In all the years she’d been here, Y/N had never seen the man so harried, and it seemed neither had Brandon. For a panicked, irrational moment, Y/N thought there was a raven from Whitetide. Dark wings, dark words.

“Lady… Lady Stark has … a … an illness.” The maester took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. “She has been … weak, as you know, but … it’s far worse than I thought. She needs to be kept apart from everyone else at the Keep. When was the last time you spoke with her, children?”

Brandon took a moment to respond. “This morning, I talked with her, she— she hugged me, but —”

The maester shook his head. “And you, Lady Y/N?”

“Last night, at dinner,” Y/N said quietly. “She took my hand…”

She remembered the kind gesture, and now weary and pale Lady Stark looked. That night, her eyes looked especially tired. She’d begun to hold onto her husband or one of the servants when she walked to and from her room, the place she stayed in the most nowadays. No one seemed to want to talk about her worsening condition, not even the Lady herself. Out of respect to her, no one mentioned it openly.

The leaves danced around them as Benjen swooped down from a low branch. “Can’t we see her?”

“I just said you cannot,” The maester said. “She will be kept away from here on, and we will burn her things and anything she has come in contact with. Now, if the three of you will come with me, I’ve already spoken with Lord Stark and Lyanna…”

Lady Lyarra Stark died within a week. The children heard of the passing suddenly, as her husband was the only one who could visit her through her last days. No amount of guards or a maester’s lecturing would keep Lord Stark from her bedside.

Y/N stood next to Lyanna at the funeral, allowing her friend to clutch her as they all prayed in the godswood. Lady Stark’s bones had been kept in a beautifully engraved wooden chest, and they would be moved to a place of honor in the crypts, but that was little comfort to the children she left behind.

Y/N said some prayers aloud, mouthed others, but kept her head down the entire time. She heard the servants of Winterfell crying and praying, and clearer than that, Lyanna’s crying into the fur draped around Y/N’s shoulder. Her voice was muffled, but Y/N could still feel her body shaking. Y/N herself was trying to keep her tears from rolling down her face. The warmth of them stung her cold cheeks terribly.

Benjen was quiet on the other side of her, staring up at the red leaves like he was in a daze. Brandon seethed beside his father, who was as old as the stone lords in the crypts. Y/N was anxious to see Lord Stark’s expression, knowing it would either scare her or make her tears come faster.

The Starks stayed behind to keep vigil while the servants and guards returned to the keep. Y/N didn’t know how long she stayed kneeling in the snow. She listened to Lyanna’s quieting tears and remembering the kindnesses Lady Stark had given her. Anytime Y/N missed her own mother, Lady Stark was ready to speak with her, to teach her something, or hold her for a while. Y/N couldn’t imagine how the others felt. She thought of her mother now, safe in Whitetide, and desperately wished she could see her.

“Return to the keep,” Lord Stark said after some time. Y/N still didn’t know how long they’d been outside. “All of you.”

“Father —” Brandon started.

“Go.”

Their lord father’s voice was hoarse and hard. He didn’t look at any of his children as they slowly stood around him. Y/N’s legs had gone completely numb from both the cold and kneeling. She wobbled, and Lyanna tried to help her stay upright, no doubt just as weak-legged herself. Benjen found his way to his sister’s side, holding onto her like she held onto Y/N. It reminded Y/N of when he was younger, tagging alongside the two of them.

Y/N glanced back, noticing that Brandon was still trying to linger by his father. She didn’t know if they exchanged words, but eventually Brandon caught up to them as they walked back to the keep.

They all walked slowly, and the Winterfell that greeted them was eerily quiet. The kitchen staff worked with no cheer or haste, the smith’s anvil was quiet, there were no carts or wagons being pulled through the gate. At the feast hall, the candles were burning low, and there was only one servant tending to the cleaning the floors. Her scrubbing was interrupted by intermittent sniffling.

Ned couldn’t be here, Y/N thought not for the first time. Her heart sunk into her gut, making her feel sick. She knew the others were thinking the same. What could I say? What could I possibly say?

She mechanically walked to the main parlor, sitting down at the windowsill. Lyanna sat by the hearth, Benjen sat beside his sister, and Brandon had split off from them quickly. Y/N looked out the window, glad it faced away from the Godswood. She had a feeling if it did, she’d see Lord Stark still kneeling in the snow. She recalled Ned told her the Eyrie’s godswood was more of a little forest, and her heart ached even further. It almost made her cry again. How are the gods supposed to watch over him? Or hear him when he’s in trouble?

She would wait for Lord Stark to send word, if it hadn’t already been done, then she’d send a letter to Ned herself. She’d paint something, too, something special. She’d do anything, if only she knew what that was. Why couldn’t he be here? Y/N rubbed at her raw eyes and rested her head against the cool glass of the window, letting the chill hit her dizzying, exhausted head.

Y/N stirred and sat up slowly. Her head was aching from the awkward angle she fell asleep at. She squinted out the window, but there was only darkness. Across the room, the fire was low, and a chill was settling in the room. Y/N pulled her fur cloak closer around her and shivered. Where was everyone?

She slipped off the windowsill and wandered the halls. If it was dinnertime, no one woke her up, and she didn’t smell meats cooking as she entered the great hall. Y/N stepped outside into the fresh snow, wondering if the day had all been a terrible dream.

It wasn’t, though, and she couldn’t hide from it. People died all the time, especially women and children. If it wasn’t this sickness, Lady Stark may have died in childbirth. That was a far more common fate, something Y/N would have to worry about herself one day. Some day soon.

She sighed heavily and hesitated at the edge of the godswood. The darkness was all around her, with the warmth and light of Winterfell far behind. She took a step forward, letting her boot sink into the snow. The moon was waning, giving off the slightest light. The white bark of the trees and the snow glowed on a full moon, but tonight, they disappeared.

One foot in front of the other, the snow crunched below Y/N’s feet. She kept thinking about Ned, imagining his expression, what he would say — she would never know, of course, and that made it worse. She could only write and draw, there was no holding and comforting. The thought of holding him hit her so strongly, her body ached. Lady Stark held her when she worried about her uncle at sea, when she caught sick or when she hurt herself. Y/N wanted to hold Ned like that, even if he was far bigger than she. Maybe this was a stupid, girlish, childish thought. Maybe it was, but stupid words on paper didn’t seem like enough.

There was a clear path that let to the heart tree, but the darkness didn’t help her navigate, a strange noise did. It made her jump at first, but there were no wolves in these woods. She listened carefully. There was the distinct sound of someone shuffling around in the snow, like they were standing up. Y/N anxiously wondered if it was Lord Stark. No, he can’t be here still. It’s been half a day …

She jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice call out, echoing off the snow and the trees. “Who goes there?!”

“I-It’s only me,” Y/N started, ready to apologize to Lord Stark, but the voice sounded off. Too young, too angry. “…Brandon? Is that you?”

The person didn’t respond, but she heard boots trudging clumsily through the snow. She felt a presence next to her, and finally she could see his outline. Y/N reached forward and was surprised to not touch a fur cloak or thick surcoat, but a fairly thin tunic that was frigid cold, and the stiff muscles underneath it. Brandon didn’t flinch away from her, so she kept her hold on his forearms.

“Brandon, come inside.” Y/N said. Her own voice was weak, she realized, and she was already shivering. “It’ll get colder, and it’s already so dark. How long have you been here?”

Brandon sniffled, both from the cold and the tears, she assumed. “Father hasn’t come in. I was waiting …”

Y/N shook her head. He must have come right outside after realizing it was dark and Lord Stark still hadn’t returned to the keep. “You can’t stay out here all night. Come inside. Please?”

Brandon didn’t seem easy on his feet, and he was trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “I-I have a vigil to keep. I have to — father is, s-so I should at least try…”

“You’re cold, and exhausted, besides. You ran out here without anything, you fool. Why aren’t you wearing a cloak?”

He mumbled something in return. Y/N pulled the tall boy toward her, wanting to urge him toward the light in the distance. She was ready to give him her modest cloak, just enough to serve until they reached the warmth of Winterfell, but then he wrapped his arms around her. Y/N let out a noise of surprise as his head slumped on her shoulder. Brandon was heavy, but she kept steady. For a moment, it was all still: The godswood around them, Brandon in her arms, the night above them.

Y/N was about to speak, but then she heard a noise, like a deep gasp. Brandon shook from the cold and his own emotion. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him cry.

Robert shook his leg impatiently, causing the thick heel of his boot to tap against the floor again and again. Normally Lord Arryn would chastise him for his restlessness, but the two of them had been quiet for days. Robert didn’t like quiet, or gloominess. He didn’t want to stay like this a minute longer.

“Has he left his room yet?” Robert asked for the third time.

“Be patient, Robert.” Lord Arryn replied expectedly. “Recall that terrible day you endured.”

He didn’t have to recall his own parents’ demise. Robert thought about it often, a wound that was still fresh, and it only closed up when he drank enough or when a pretty girl sat by him. It’d come back afterward, though, and then he had Ned to talk to.

He shouldn’t have to go through the same thing, Robert thought irritably. The worst part is, he knew Ned wouldn’t want a drink or a pretty girl, or a fight, or a new horse. He would just sit in his own sorrow, brooding in that way he did. The young Baratheon huffed, shifting his restless energy to tapping his fingers on the table. Ned was always talking him out of trouble and listening to his worries — the only person he’d ever spoken to about them. But what did Robert ever do for him?

The Baratheon heir growled in frustration and stood from his seat abruptly. Lord Arryn only glanced up a moment, but Robert was already gone.

He barged into Ned’s room, and was half disappointed Ned wasn’t there — he’d been sitting vigil at the Eyrie’s godswood for too damned long, but that made this next part easier. Ned had several of his girl’s paintings up around his desk, where anyone could see them, but Robert knew where he kept the letters. He opened the bottom drawer and in a wooden box with the direwolf sigil, and there they were.

Robert had read some before. Sometimes Ned would read things aloud, sometimes Robert snuck in here, but they were never that exciting. Always talking about Winterfell or what the horses were doing, nothing salacious like a proper love letter should be. Still, they made Ned happy. Robert picked a few out and tucked them carefully in his doublet.

The grass crunched under his boots as he entered the godswood. The fiery red leaves and snow-white bark looked out of place amongst the rocky Eyrie, he always thought, especially when there was bright green grass and regular trees around the weirwoods. He spotted Ned at the same place he’d been for hours, kneeling. His head was lowered slightly, some of his long brown hair falling around him, and Robert wondered if he was asleep. Then Ned raised his head and turned it.

“Robert?”

“Brought you something.” Robert said. Ned wasn’t getting up, so he awkwardly knelt beside him. Gods, it was murder on the knees, and even in that position he was far taller than Ned. Robert retrieved the letters from his doublet and handed them over.

Ned looked at them with hope, then confusion.

“They aren’t new,” Robert said, chuckling. “I just … I remembered you liked these ones. Y/N was writing something about a festival? And Lyanna stole a sword off your brother. Y/N wrote about her dress, and something about a horse…”

He trailed off, wondering if this was a stupid idea. He was terrible at this. These were the letters with the most pictures, giving life to what Y/N wrote about, as clear as any maester’s history book. Ned stared at the papers in his hands, lightly touching a rare self-portrait Y/N had done of her new gown.

I worked on it for two weeks, although your lady mother helped me several times over. It’s the first one I’ve sewn by myself, and I hope I do it justice. This may not be interesting to you, but I’m proud. It’s cerulean and white.

Lyanna wanted me to draw her with Brandon’s sword. She thinks it’s very funny. ‘How can he call himself a lord when he can’t keep hold of his own sword?’ I thought Benjen was the thief, but Lyanna can be just as clever. It took him all day to realize she’d replaced his with a dull training sword.

Do you remember when you found my pearl? You couldn’t forget, I know, but I still think about it when remove it to brush my hair. I’ll never forget that kindness, Ned.

He smiled for the first time in a week. To Robert’s excitement, he made an expression for the first time in days.

“You can go back home,” Robert offered, wanting to keep the mood up. “Even if it’s just for a short time.”

They were men grown, ten and seven years old. If anything, they should have left the Eyrie by now. Both of them knew it was only a matter of time, though Robert didn’t want to go back to Storm’s End after all these years, having to finally take his lordly duties seriously. Ned was a second son, his duty would be commanding the household guard or visiting with minor houses.

Robert had a feeling if Ned left now, he wouldn’t come back to the Eyrie.

“Perhaps.” The Stark said quietly.

Their easy days had to end eventually. Why did it have to be on such a damned sad note?

Robert looked up at the heart tree. Its eerie, foreign face stared down at him. He had no prayers to give, only a quiet request that when Ned returned to Winterfell, it would be safely. The only noise for a long time was the wind rustling the branches of the white trees and the shuffling of the letters as Ned re-read them.

#ned stark x reader #game of thrones x reader #salt & snow #libra fics #i just realized all the summaries of this fic hint at something sad happening LOL

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shining-m00nlight · 3 years

Text

5 times Catelyn didn’t think of Brandon Stark (4)

Everyone thinks she is with Ned because of Brandon but they are wrong. Fourth one is Brynden.

Chapter 4 of my Nedlyn 5+1 story. It’s their wedding day, yay. Very fluffy and feel good. You don’t need to know the other chapters. Have fun.

"And I promise to love you and cherish you for the rest of my life. To be your partner by your side always, until the end of my days." Ned's words still rang in her head when they got to the wedding reception.

She never felt this much happiness in her life before. She was married to Ned. To her sweet, kind Ned, her rock. If she wouldn't have been in the middle of her wedding reception she would have squealed and screamed full of joy. But she had to remember that there were a lot of people around them.

To be completely honest she had a hard time remembering that other people participated in her wedding, the whole day. From the moment she had walked down the aisle the only one she saw was Ned. Everyone else had just fainted into the background.

Distantly she had known that her father had led her to Ned but even his significance blanched in comparison to her future husband. Ned who had waited for her at the end of the aisle looking at her as if all his wishes had just come true. He had claimed this two days prior but when she had seen it so plainy displayed on his face it had made her heart skip a few beats.

Before the wedding both Lysa and Lyanna had asked Catelyn if she was afraid that Ned would look as "frozen" as he always looked. She got quite mad at both of them because to her Ned had never been frozen when they were together. Yes it took her some time to recognize and read his emotions but frozen was not a word that came when she thought of her now husband.

People who called Ned frozen and unfeeling were people she couldn't understand. And the moment she had seen him she knew that everyone who thought that Ned was frozen today was an idiot.

It wasn't like any of those people mattered to her anyway. Nobody but Ned mattered today. Of course Ned would disagree with her on this. For him she was what mattered most on their wedding day. They had a long discussion about this and at the end they came to the conclusion that their love should be the center of their wedding which was a result both of them were satisfied with.

Now she was in her husband's arms while dancing. Ned always declared that he was a terrible dancer and she knew he had been nervous about dancing infront of so many people but she also knew no one had ever danced with her as well as Ned did today. She also knew no other man's arms could ever fit as perfectly around her as Ned's did. She knew that she could never feel this safe with anybody else by her side. And she knew that there was no one she would have rather married than Ned. She knew all those things without a doubt.

"I love you, Ned" she whispered in his ear. Everyone's eyes were on them but they only had eyes for each other. They pressed their foreheads together to be as close as possible to each other.

"I love you too, so much. Before you I never knew I could love someone this much." he told her and gave her a small kiss on the lips. It was a short kiss but it was full of promises. Promises for later today and promises for their life together, a life that started this moment.

After what felt like a wonderful eternity their first dance was over. She still felt like she was floating when Ned went to sit down at their table next to Robert, his best man. Catelyn stayed on the dance floor and waited for her father so they could start the father-daughter-dance. Hoster came to her smiling brighter than she had seen him smile in a long time with open arms to start their dance.

"Little Cat, you look radiant. I am so happy for you and I'm very lucky that I get to be here for your special day. I just wish your mother could be here to see you getting married. I know she dreamt of this day ever since you were born." he told her.

"Oh daddy, thank you. I wish mom would be here as well but I believe that she is with us today. Of course planning the wedding would have been easier with her here." she tried to make a little joke. One that was true.

Ever since Cat was five years old and her mother had shown her pictures of her own wedding, Cat had set her heart on having a wedding that resembled her parents. With Minisa Tully gone from life too early this had turned out to be a challenge and her father hadn't been of much help.

But again she had been blessed to have Ned. Even though he was missing his own mother, he had helped her plan the entire wedding and to find a way to perfectly combine the different traditions of their faiths. They somehow managed to have a wedding that was a perfect combination of her dreams and his wishes. There was no way in which this wedding could have been better.

At the end of the father-daughter-dance Rickard Stark took over for her father and other people started dancing around them as well. Cat enjoyed dancing and she liked her new father-in-law but she wanted to get back to Ned. She tried to find him without interrupting her dance. He wasn't in his seat anymore. Instead she found him dancing with his sister. He looked up and her and their eyes met. Immediately the smile returned to his face and she couldn't help but blush and smile back.

When the song ended they both returned to their table again. Ned took her hands: "I missed you even though you've only been gone for 2 dances"

She laughed and again Ned looked at her like she was the most beautiful creature on this Earth. It filled her with joy that they both missed each other irrationally. But this was their day of course they wanted to be together as much as possible.

She took one of her hands and stroked through his hair carefully to not get it messy. He silently raised his eyebrow and she knew exactly why. She had made him promise not to touch her hair until after the wedding to not ruin it.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not making a mess out of your hair like you always make of mine. I'll make sure you will look just as handsome as you looked before I touched your hair."

Instead of saying something he took her hand, that was not in his hair and kissed the back of it. They sat together like this, just looking at each other and exchanging little touches until her uncle came over and asked her to dance. She was conflicted about leaving Ned again but he just smiled and gave her hands to Brynden.

Her uncle spun her around on the dance floor laughing and most likely not suitable to the beat. When their dance slowed down a bit the topic of how cheerful this day was came up again.

Brynden with his typical teasing grin on his face asked her a question she really expected: "Tell me little Cat are you happy with your choice of groom?"

"Of course I am happy. Ned is the best man there is. Why would you even ask that?" She was a bit irritated by his question. Why would she not be happy? If she had been unhappy she wouldn't have married Ned.

"Oh I just remember how enamored you were with the handsome older brother." he said wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Just seemed like you replaced the older one with the one that is less likely to take the wrong girl home after the wedding"

Cat almost fell when she missed a step because she felt it raging inside her. She knew her uncle was making a joke. One he wouldn't make if she had actually married Brandon. He would not laugh, he would threaten Brandon instead. But in this moment she was just mad being reminded by her own uncle that she had a history with Ned's older brother. She hated that people constantly asked about Brandon or assumed that he was the reason for her relationship with Ned.

"Uncle, why would you say something like that? At Ned's and my wedding no less! I love Ned. My loving Ned has nothing to do with Brandon. Ned is 10 times the man that Brandon is. And I'm really tired of all of you questioning my decision and thinking I have some twisted reason for being with Ned." She didn't yell but she came damn close to it.

She almost left her uncle on the dancefloor to get back to Ned but he stopped her to apologize. He told her he was just joking and that he didn't mean to hurt her. Cat knew that it was true but she told her uncle that she would not tolerate anyone saying these things anymore. They finished their dance but Cat's mood wasn't as good as it was before. Her plan was to go straight back to Ned but when she turned around he was already there to take over for Brynden.

"Are you ok? You looked like you got a bit mad there." he asked her. For the millionth time today she beamed at him as he put his arms around her and started dancing again. This was one of the many reasons she knew Ned was the right one for her. He always was so observant and could sense her distress very easily.

"I'm fine, my love. My uncle was just making a stupid joke." she reassured him.

"Mmh, I don't like you being upset you should be nothing but happy today."

"I am nothing but happy, I promise. I just look at you and there is no space in my heart for anything but love, hope and happiness." It was true the moment she had been back in his arms her anger at her uncle had completely disappeared.

Despite this little incident the rest of the reception had been lovely. She danced with Edmure, Benjen and even Robert, she saw Ned dancing with Lysa, she ate cake and had a great time. At the end of the day Ned and her ended up in their bed naked tangled up in each other in a way that you probably couldn't tell which limp belongs to who and she thought of nothing but their future.

No Brandon occupied her mind, only Ned.

#my 5+1 Nedlyn fic #wedding #game of thrones #asoiaf #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x catelyn #brynden tully #modern au #nedlyn #ned x cat #ao3 fanfic

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