#husband of her highness that she has sworn to protect &. serve*

[faithfulmaiden]

📖

after padmé’s funeral, rabé has totally changed : forget the handmaiden who grins &. soothes others’ doubts. the lady became the epitome of a hopeless wanderer, of an elusive passenger. she’s not a rebel, don’t be surprised to not recognize her usual self.

as the old wardrobe mistress &. a forlorn creative lady, rabé’ll not cease to scrutinize vader’s outfits : stygian, modest, proffering a daunting tenebrosity worth eulogizing — hm, she’ll not hesitate to advice him on how to appear less intimidating sometimes, exchanging wise philosophies like getting rid of the mask that blocks him away from real happenings, to confront worlds in all his glory whilst discarding with pride others’ foul judgements about his new appearance &. this ? unwise choice to discuss about his mandatory suit. NOBODY IN THE EMPIRE MUST RECOGNIZE THE NEW VISAGE, the result of hubris &. warning that condemns the arrogance to linger on burnt marks. yes … perhaps ridiculous to mention that a suit like his is for the better, enemies can take advantage of his physical condition ( like targeting his weakest spots &. transforms the battlefield into a show of mockery ), so she’ll apologize &. jokes around like ‘‘ what about smiling instead of this cold facial expression ?’’ excuse her, she wants to pamper him like she pampered padmé before … BUT IT DOESN’T STOP HERE : everything is new, or just drastically met alternatives that the republic would’ve liked to dodge, political ethics should be thrown away with firmness, rabé’ll encourage vader to not tolerate a mistake &. to correct insubordination, explaining that duties come before personal needs &. it’s a honor to sacrifice for hefty commitments. vader, with this hidden identity like the phantom of his own opera, coercing anyone to follow orders shall also follow the advices of the book THE PRINCE, ‘‘be machiavellian’’ to sum it up : BE FEARED, NOT LOVED, for love is a weakness, near obsession &. guides the strongest outlet to a tragedy ‘‘like all misery, it begins with apparent happiness, &. in a kingdom, there’s no friends.’’ why all above–mentioned advices are judged bad ? because the old rabé would NEVER act like this, but after manifold tries to find good distractions, a new opportunity to prosper … SHE GAVE UP ON BEING BENEVOLENT, loss &. ennui, mingled with chaos &. despair, affected her. NOT ONLY THIS, but vader might never expect to see a drastic change in the old handmaiden of his precious padmé.

#RABENE TONSORT &. VADER #finally answered. #Mun is speaking : my apologies if it is lame but i actually see rabé following vader for padmé #rabé has taught padmé how to obfuscate &. she became her wardrobe mistress #someone capable of using makeup &. wide–ranging outfits to cover one’s identity #to hide &. to canceal like a form of tenebrosity #just hide &. act for the public’s sake #rabé never lived for herself : just present to help &. guide others without caring about her own desires #duties come before désires #so she will not hesitate to advice vader to maintain power #to not lose power… #but the verity is : rabé doesn’t want to lose anakin like she lost padmé #so anakin became vader ? alright #she will please the husband with questionable advices being undoubtedly machiavellian or faustian #husband of her highness that she has sworn to protect &. serve*

[dirtytransmasc]

What's in your opinion alicent's healthier relationship in the show? And what's your favorite?

I think her healthiest relationship is her friendship with Criston. he is the one person truly sworn to her, who will protect her and listen to her and be a shoulder for her to cry on in her court. he also understood what it was like to be taken advantage of by royals who held such immense power of their heads that it was no use to try and fight them. they were allies and friends and damn near only means of staying sane. he was sworn to her on his own will and he was by her side till the very end. he also had s good relationship with her kids and was most likely the closest thing they ever had to a father, especially as they got older and during the dance. I think he was probably the one person she felt truly safe with, and he allowed her the room to breathe and let out her worries and angers she otherwise had to keep bottled up. not to mention she literally saved his life and gave him a time and place to attempt to regain his honor and serve her as he wished. they're both so sad and pathetic (affectionatly) and I love them so much.

my favorite though (even if her and Cole's is very close to being my favorite) is her and Aegon. they have this messy mother/son relationship that just shatters my heart. he was born to her husband and rapist into her prison that was the red keep and the death of what remained of her childhood and yet she still loved him more than anyone could ever imagine in such a messy and frankly painful way. they're so complex and the emotions are so high strung and it's all just so fascinating to poke around at and analyze. you never love something like you love your eldest child, they say, and we see that with Alicent even when she struggles to parent him, because she was a child too when she had him and he is a bit of s troublemaker she doesn't know how to handle. Aegon is an amazing and flawed character as well, while not the best person, and the relationship he has with his mom, where he is just longing for her to be soft with him to love him constantly while also keeping the wedge between them is just *chefs kiss*. I love them and all their messy mommy issues.

#thanks for the ask ❤️❤️❤️ #I love my characters and their relationships with others disastrous messy and pathetic #can you tell? #they just mean so much to me #alicole in any form is the healthiest relationship she has #whether it be a queen and her queens gaurd. a platonic soulmate/relationship situation. or even romantic situation #(the last two being more fanon than the first) #and aegon and alicent are just so perfect and messy and awful and beautiful #but i love them dearly #I want to dissect them forever and ever #I need inject them into my veins #they're nightmares and oh so fascinating #alicent hightower #criston cole #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #pro alicent hightower #pro criston cole #pro team green

[yikesharringrove]

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

-

Steve Harrington is a liar. 

He always has been. 

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade. 

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine. 

Steve is a liar. 

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore. 

It was always about protection. 

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory. 

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers. 

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion. 

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay. 

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins. 

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband. 

The Harringtons. 

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma. 

That’s what they told everyone. 

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school. 

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears. 

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal. 

So Steve lied. 

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports. 

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

-

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight. 

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section. 

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip. 

She glared at him. 

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine. 

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died. 

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options. 

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him. 

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve. 

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically. 

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was. 

Almost. 

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now. 

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place. 

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit. 

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back. 

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more. 

Robin means well. He knows she does. 

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her. 

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share. 

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her. 

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them. 

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him. 

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy. 

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose. 

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for. 

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit. 

Especially if he did it right. 

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat. 

It was always too simple when he let the power take over. 

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him. 

And then just, twist it as much as he wants. 

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide. 

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority. 

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand. 

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being. 

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house. 

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used). 

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house. 

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place. 

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place. 

Which was good for Steve. 

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove. 

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new. 

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant. 

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain. 

And there wasn’t silence. 

Creaks. 

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway. 

Footsteps. 

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts. 

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful. 

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still. 

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves. 

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall. 

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing. 

No questions asked. 

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath. 

He closed his eyes, and swung. 

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder. 

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve. 

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear. 

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused. 

His top lip was covered in blood. 

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs. 

The footsteps that were caused by no one. 

It’s official. 

Steve’s lost it. 

He’s fucking crazy. 

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life. 

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps. 

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight. 

-

Billy hates Harrington’s house. 

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated. 

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise. 

It keeps him on edge. 

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs. 

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house. 

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety. 

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed. 

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat. 

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered. 

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal. 

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage. 

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot. 

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it. 

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped. 

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them. 

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team. 

Billy let himself be the muscle. 

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role. 

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise. 

They’d all lost enough people to understand that. 

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding. 

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms. 

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night. 

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head. 

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him. 

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing. 

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging. 

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters. 

Save the rest. 

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die. 

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone. 

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it. 

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit. 

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up. 

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house. 

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room. 

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking. 

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit. 

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place. 

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too. 

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him. 

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs. 

-

Steve’s going fucking crazy. 

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes. 

He hadn’t slept at all last night. 

Something just felt. Off. 

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions. 

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone. 

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards. 

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill. 

And he couldn’t push them out. 

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings. 

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one. 

He’s lost the metaphor. 

Doesn’t matter. 

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked. 

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video. 

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life. 

He was going to be late for work. 

He didn’t really give a fuck. 

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making. 

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin. 

His brain was empty. 

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings. 

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit. 

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation. 

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.” 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

Bingo. 

She wasn’t actually mad at him. 

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning. 

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say. 

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room. 

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick. 

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today. 

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything. 

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go. 

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into. 

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift. 

It was easy to pass the shift like that. 

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight. 

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well. 

Lonely. 

He almost felt lonely. 

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence. 

He’s officially crazy. 

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky. 

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen. 

Or something to that effect. 

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day. 

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention. 

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit. 

-

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot. 

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced. 

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys. 

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall. 

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it. 

Things had been quiet lately. 

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to. 

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body. 

Billy hadn’t listened. 

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now. 

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that. 

They had the runs down to a system. 

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest. 

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air. 

Billy got it. 

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen. 

They just. Make do. 

Ration food and keep each other safe. 

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward. 

There’s nothing to see too far in the future. 

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could. 

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left. 

Billy would keep watch. 

He always kept watch. 

Things had been too good for too long. 

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls. 

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer. 

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm. 

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute. 

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out. 

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second. 

Things were too quiet.

-

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull. 

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight. 

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this. 

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability. 

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken. 

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of. 

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby. 

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride. 

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society. 

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul. 

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep. 

  “Hello?”

It was his house. 

But it wasn’t his house. 

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere. 

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house. 

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove. 

But it wasn’t Billy. 

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn. 

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes. 

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water. 

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain. 

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either. 

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

-

So. 

That’s something. 

Dreaming about Harrington. 

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life. 

Or maybe he did. 

He’d said it in the dream. 

Somewhere safe. 

It’s what he felt in that blackness. 

Safety. Warmth. Hope. 

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library. 

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head. 

It made waking up that much shittier. 

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air. 

He needed to process. 

There was something so fucking weird about that dream. 

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened. 

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy. 

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions. 

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy. 

All that made sense. 

But everything else. 

Steve said he was dead. 

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about. 

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response. 

His head was spinning out of control. 

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe. 

Because, they were. 

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe. 

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame. 

The door had long since rotted right through. 

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet. 

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil. 

He hopes not. 

He likes Andrew too much for that. 

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot. 

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose. 

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet. 

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place. 

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them. 

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.” 

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away. 

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew. 

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it. 

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

-

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning. 

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit. 

His nose had bled in the night. 

He never got nosebleeds. 

Unless he used his power. 

And that dream. 

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed. 

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head. 

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver. 

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety. 

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup. 

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

-

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door. 

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. 

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown. 

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota. 

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today. 

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it. 

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight. 

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him. 

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all. 

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was. 

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer. 

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news. 

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas. 

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway. 

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve. 

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood. 

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it. 

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help. 

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door. 

It took two to finally tame his nerves any. 

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately. 

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie. 

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her. 

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin. 

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him. 

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name. 

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer. 

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

-

Nobody dared speak. 

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move. 

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard. 

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant. 

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt. 

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met. 

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him. 

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through. 

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.” 

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas. 

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries. 

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in. 

Respect and responsibility. 

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives. 

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued. 

Hopper nodded. 

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days. 

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed. 

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid. 

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green. 

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games. 

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit. 

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow. 

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday. 

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety. 

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

-

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by. 

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her. 

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .” 

Steve nodded at Dustin. 

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously. 

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts. 

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist. 

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.” 

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing. 

Steve was tired. 

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment. 

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon. 

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again. 

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence. 

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else. 

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin. 

It was always Robin. 

Steve let himself look at her. 

She was pale, but she was smiling at him. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?” 

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully. 

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas. 

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever. 

There was no going back after this. 

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with. 

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him. 

Made her want him. 

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart. 

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her. 

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him. 

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper. 

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. 

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel. 

She slammed the door closed behind her. 

Another fucking silence. 

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him. 

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor. 

And, when it’s put like that. 

Sure. 

It’s kinda fucked up. 

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure. 

All he does is try to help. 

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence. 

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud. 

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house. 

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death. 

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall. 

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him. 

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

-

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. 

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place. 

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple. 

It didn’t make a sound. 

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke. 

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place. 

The safety. 

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like. 

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows. 

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle. 

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle. 

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh. 

Steve knows. 

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy. 

Nice. 

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve. 

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward. 

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly. 

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head. 

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb. 

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad. 

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again. 

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways. 

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell. 

-

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground. 

“You saw him.” 

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her. 

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed. 

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment. 

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot. 

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day. 

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain. 

He knows it’s Billy. 

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is. 

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment. 

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries. 

A genius. 

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell. 

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question. 

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters. 

She wants to know if he’s held it together. 

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next. 

She just wanted it confirmed. 

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve. 

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her. 

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had. 

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home. 

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her. 

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

-

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place. 

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining. 

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard. 

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid. 

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio. 

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes. 

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow. 

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place. 

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him. 

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy. 

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore. 

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product. 

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting. 

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface. 

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes. 

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement. 

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him. 

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up. 

“I’ll explain it when you get back.” 

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore. 

-

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick. 

Which he didn’t mind in the least. 

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house. 

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same. 

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to. 

It was kinda nice. 

At least one thing hasn’t changed. 

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable. 

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair. 

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up. 

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt. 

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same. 

Unease filled the room. 

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning. 

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience. 

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second. 

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment. 

And then it crashed down. 

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy. 

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions. 

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out. 

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky. 

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did. 

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified. 

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever. 

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone. 

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned. 

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago. 

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him. 

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.” 

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway. 

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him. 

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does. 

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout. 

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him. 

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere. 

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget. 

They were in some form of a ready position. 

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place. 

His heart was pounding. 

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon. 

He didn’t believe it. 

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head. 

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house. 

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard. 

The air was still. 

Billy’s ears were ringing. 

He stared the thing down. 

Its long fingers twitched. 

Someone screamed. 

And the thing charged. 

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet. 

It charged. 

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out. 

Plant your feet. 

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now. 

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited. 

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung. 

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down. 

Well, actually. 

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy. 

Which was less than awesome. 

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away. 

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place. 

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots. 

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree. 

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him. 

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal. 

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former. 

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone. 

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head. 

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about. 

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished. 

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails. 

Billy turned. 

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging. 

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived. 

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it. 

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone. 

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight. 

-

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it. 

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it. 

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt. 

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape. 

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes. 

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye. 

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided. 

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool. 

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death. 

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy. 

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters. 

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try. 

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. 

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes. 

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense. 

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways. 

He grabbed onto it. 

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak. 

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury. 

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip. 

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. 

Steve was livid. 

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world. 

He opened his eyes. 

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same. 

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers. 

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt. 

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it. 

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition. 

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo. 

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it. 

He remembers getting the tattoo. 

It was nearly the same process. 

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind. 

001

Number One. 

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance. 

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool. 

It was open. 

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool. 

-

It was the little one that noticed it. 

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way. 

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming. 

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own. 

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared. 

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold. 

Something was moving in the pool. 

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete. 

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them. 

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge. 

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open. 

He was blinded with pain and rage and 

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through. 

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils. 

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold. 

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength. 

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold. 

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily. 

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy. 

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while. 

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself. 

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else. 

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.” 

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about. 

Nobody but Hopper, that is. 

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift. 

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off. 

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door. 

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors. 

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through. 

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?” 

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down. 

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong. 

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.” 

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face. 

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face. 

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual. 

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his. 

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now. 

Right before they tried to journey between worlds. 

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

-

Billy meant it as a joke. 

He really did. 

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality. 

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.” 

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths. 

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool. 

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire. 

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass. 

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through. 

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy. 

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long. 

He could feel her on the other side. 

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her. 

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her. 

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool. 

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve. 

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house. 

Everything was so. Wrong. 

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected. 

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares. 

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade. 

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission. 

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen. 

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside. 

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold. 

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder. 

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground. 

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him. 

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El. 

The thing shrieked. 

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. 

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head. 

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out. 

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces. 

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood. 

He had never felt so wrung dry. 

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool. 

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

-

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury. 

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds. 

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool. 

It was the best feeling in the world. 

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life. 

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm. 

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air. 

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around. 

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm. 

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed. 

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train. 

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage. 

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing. 

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him? 

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit. 

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin. 

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders. 

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel. 

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side. 

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses. 

Steve looked like shit. 

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down. 

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life. 

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well. 

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears. 

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town. 

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died. 

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand. 

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead. 

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve. 

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him. 

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around. 

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat. 

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him. 

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room. 

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room. 

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs. 

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room. 

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado. 

But it was oddly comforting. 

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy. 

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.” 

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him. 

About the lab. 

About the experiments. 

About the torture. 

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him. 

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get. 

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out. 

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy. 

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was. 

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade. 

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him. 

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation. 

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is. 

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with. 

Showing them. Talking about them. 

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve. 

Steve would just. 

He’d know. 

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea. 

Billy sat down gently on the bed. 

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy. 

Billy just grinned at him. 

#this fic is named after kind of a throwaway line in rocky horror but thats my favorite movie and i thought it fits :) #i worked so hard on this and i'm really proud pls like it i'm begging #yikes writes #yikes gets pathetic in the notes #harringrove #harringrove big bang #harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrovebigbang2021 #harringrovebigbang #also look at me writing something in-universe for fucking once #steve harrington #billy hargrove #powers!steve #experiment!steve #i hate using the ! like that but whatever

[a-world-in-grey]

Sola/Blood of My Blood - Coming of Age II

@secret-engima part 2 of Sola trolling everyone, and the set up to the actual gala itself.

.

"Are you sure we're allowed to wear gold?"

Axis gives Tredd an exasperated look. "You're worrying about this now?"

"We're not Chiefs!"

Sola rolls her eyes, keeping her head still as Nyx threads dozens of jeweled pins - gold and tanzanite, Sola really needs to thank the Ornata for making them on such short notice - into her hair to keep the elaborate, flower shaped braids in place.

She's not the only one wearing gems in her hair tonight, even if she has by far the most. They've all swapped out their usual wooden beads for gemstone equivalents - and pearls, in Tredd and Sola's cases. Libertus' hair is braided in a reverse braid down the center of his head, tanzanite and green onyx lining the sides.

If Sola isn't allowed to wear a ponytail, neither is Libertus, dammit!

Luche smacks Tredd's hands away from his jacket lapels. "Stop pulling at it, you'll crease the fabric, and I'm not saving you if you ruin Penny's hard work."

Tredd freezes, then glowers at Libertus when her husband laughs. "You're just as scared of her as I am."

"I know better than ta piss her off." With good reason. Penelopeia gets stab-happy when irritated and some of her pins are long.

Luche sighs as he straightens out Tredd's outfit. "Black is the restricted color in Lucian high society. Only the royal family and their Retinues are allowed to wear it at formal functions."

Even then, Papa, Noctis, Sola, and Libertus are wearing sable; the specific shade of black restricted to the royal family themselves.

Nyx pauses in scrutinizing his handiwork. "What about the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard uniforms then?"

"Same as the Retinue." Sola explains and she carefully tests the security of her braids. "They've sworn service to the King, and wear black and silver to reflect that. I'm neither the ruling monarch nor the Crown Heir, so I and my Retinue wear gold as a cadet branch."

"You are His Highness' Sword." Axis notes thoughtfully. "You could wear silver."

She could. It would be appropriate in Galahdian culture too - of any position in the Retinue it would be the Sword most deserving of that particular color. But Sola's not attending as Noctis' Sword tonight. She's attending as Princess, as the daughter of the King and as such she's wearing gold as tradition dictates.

It's also why she's wearing a Pyre-cursed dress instead of a suit like the rest of Noctis' Retinue.

Don't get her wrong. It's a beautiful dress and Penelopeia earned every last yen making it. Sable silk with golden embroidery, high waisted with flowing skirts and no sleeves on account of it being the end of August.

Sola would still rather wear pants.

"Hang on," Tredd says, "why does the King wear gold then?"

Sola deadpans. "He's the King. He can wear whatever he damn well wants."

Who's going to tell the King no?

"Where are we meeting Prince Noctis?" Libertus asks, testing the draw of the knife tucked in the top of his hose. The small blades that are part of Galahdian formal wear are ceremonial, barely the length of Sola's hand span from tip to hilt, and so elegantly decorated Sola could hang them on her wall as art. Of course, being Galahdian, the blades are just as serviceable in combat as any of their primary arms.

They don't expect to need them tonight, but Galahdian sensibilities and Sola's current condition mean all of them are going to wear them anyway.

"At the doors to the banquet hall." Sola wishes she could wear a weapon herself, but there's nowhere she can hide one and still easily access it given her current outfit. Not being able to use her magic for the next several months is going to drive her nuts. “Noctis will enter first with Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto, and we’ll follow after.”

It will allow them to pull attention from Noctis, rather than Noctis’ arrival pulling attention from them. It’s even following protocol, thank the Six for small mercies, because while Sola’s held the position of Noctis’ Sword for nearly two decades now, without the bond Ignis, Gladio, and now Prompto have with Noctis, Sola is still technically a Wayward Sword.

A fact the Court has yet to realize, but Sola has no doubts some will figure it out tonight.

Another reason for announcing her marriage. Hopefully it’ll keep the idiots distracted. Because if anyone seriously tries to Court Noctis for the ‘open’ position in his Retinue, Sola knows her brother will leave them bleeding out on the floor.

Not, Sola muses wryly, that she’ll react much differently. For the best she doesn’t have access to her weapons then.

She’ll have to settle for gutting them with words. She can do that.

Libertus eyes the smile pulling at red painted lips. “You’re sure about keeping your brother in the dark?”

“Only until tomorrow.” Sola replies. “A surprise birthday gift.”

Noctis will have enough to handle as is, and Sola’s job tonight is to ease the load not add to it. She’d rather Noctis focus on getting through the gala and subsequent ceremony than worry over Sola not being able to use her magic.

He’ll do enough worrying over the next several months. Even though he knows full well that Sola is fine. It’s normal for female Lucis Caelums. Sure, Sola was hoping it wouldn’t happen for another couple days, but she’s adjusted since losing her magic yesterday and she has a full Retinue to protect her if anyone manages to get past Aunt Tiz and Uncle Cor’s security.

And even then, Sola is not so far along she can’t defend herself. She’s never needed weapons or magic to kill a man.

Luche snorts. “You just want to see how many people you can shock at once.”

“Well… yeah.” It’s funny. “I’m hoping to make Uncle Cor faint. Again.” She was there when Aunt Tiz announced her pregnancy and Uncle Cor dropped like a sack of wet cement. Highlight of Sola’s week and made taking over as acting-Captain during Aunt Tiz’s bed rest and maternity leave completely worth it.

Sola doubts Noctis or Ignis will faint, but she’s hoping to get Gladio. Papa is unlikely to pass out learning he’s to be a grandfather again, and Sola doubts nothing will shock Uncle Clarus as much as meeting the Triplets and then Axis in the span of fifteen minutes.

Prompto is proving to be increasingly unflappable, but the blonde at least plays along so Sola can expect a reaction from him even if it’s half-faked. At least one of her fellow Retinue finds her funny.

She’s even taken steps to make sure no one catches on early. None of the dishes tonight contain anything that will set off Sola’s nausea and she’s going to be avoiding all the wine served except for the bare minimum sips required at the beginning of each course. Libertus and Axis will be sitting on either side her, and are prepared for some misdirection to help fool everyone into thinking she’s drinking more than she actually is, and them having her magic means they won’t get as drunk as they would otherwise. Having her Retinue close by the entire night will help prevent anyone with magic sense the changes - and even then Sola knows it’s only because Noctis and Regis’ magic doesn’t give them the same level of sense Sola and Dyn’s gold magic affords them.

Her adorable nephew sensed the changes in Sola shortly after Sola herself, and has since been sworn to silence. Dyn is rather gleeful in being in on the secret and is quite looking forward to surprising his father.

Of course, the scamp’s glee means that Noctis knows there is a secret, but he is indulging Dyn and Sola’s fun.

A knock before Crowe opens the door and pokes her head in. “His Highness is on the move.”

Libertus offers Sola his arm. “That’s our cue.”

Sola gets to her feet and takes it. Her Retinue arranges themselves around them. Nyx at the front, Luche on the right at Libertus’ side, Tredd at her left, and Axis bringing up the rear.

Sola grins, and knows it’s all teeth.

“Show time.”

#ffxv #Shadow of Heaven’s Light #Blood of My Blood verse #fusion #Sola Lucis Caelum #Libertus Ostium #Nyx Ulric #Tredd Furia #Axis Arra #Luche Lazarus #Sola is looking forward to this so much #announcing her marriage #forcing the nobles to swallow the fact that ‘dirty refugees’ are permitted to wear black when they are not #that a ‘dirty refugee’ is now ROYALTY #and the much more well-intentioned trolling of her family with the announcement of her pregnancy #she’s still in her first trimester so she isn’t showing yet #but she is far enough along that her magic can’t be actively used #because using magic puts a massive strain on the body #so female LCs lose access to their active magic while pregnant to protect both mother and child #(which was used to argue against LC queens until the Rogue) #Sola still has her passive magic like her self-healing and passive sensing #she just can’t heal others or extend her magic sense beyond her normal immediate space #or access her armiger or use elemancy or shields or stealth #but she’s most irritated about losing access to the armiger tbh #she can’t access her literal dozens of sharp pointy weapons anymore XD

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the June 2021 Edition

I have read a lot of books this month. That should be stated upfront. Just an absolute metric ton of books. Some real good, some not-so good, some inadvertently hysterical. Also, I made that BINGO board. Because, like, you ever have a total crisis of writing-confidence and ignore that potential freakout and the tendency of your coworkers to miss deadlines by reading every free Amazon sports romance you can find? And several full YA series? In one month? No? My experiences are not universal, I understand. Anyway, there’s thoughts and opinions and spoilers under the cut. Everyone read the Once Upon a Con series, I’m begging you.

READ THIS SERIES! PLEASE! EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! EVERYONE IN EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! THE FANDOM STUFF DID NOT GIVE ME SECOND-HAND EMBARRASSMENT!

Geekerella by Ashley Poston Part romance, part love letter to nerd culture, and all totally adorbs, Geekerella is a fairy tale for anyone who believes in the magic of fandom. Geek girl Elle Wittimer lives and breathes Starfield, the classic sci-fi series she grew up watching with her late father. So when she sees a cosplay contest for a new Starfield movie, she has to enter. The prize? An invitation to the ExcelsiCon Cosplay Ball, and a meet-and-greet with the actor slated to play Federation Prince Carmindor in the reboot. With savings from her gig at the Magic Pumpkin food truck (and her dad’s old costume), Elle’s determined to win…unless her stepsisters get there first. Teen actor Darien Freeman used to live for cons—before he was famous. Now they’re nothing but autographs and awkward meet-and-greets. Playing Carmindor is all he’s ever wanted, but the Starfield fandom has written him off as just another dumb heartthrob. As ExcelsiCon draws near, Darien feels more and more like a fake—until he meets a girl who shows him otherwise. 

The Princess and the Fangirl by Ashley Poston Imogen Lovelace is an ordinary fangirl on an impossible mission: to save her favorite Starfield character, Princess Amara, from being killed off. On the other hand, the actress who plays Amara wouldn’t mind being axed. Jessica Stone doesn’t even like being part of the Starfield franchise—and she’s desperate to leave the intense scrutiny of fandom behind. Though Imogen and Jess have nothing in common, they do look strangely similar to one another—and a case of mistaken identity at ExcelsiCon sets off a chain of events that will change both of their lives. When the script for the Starfield sequel leaks, with all signs pointing to Jess, she and Imogen must trade places to find the person responsible. The deal: Imogen will play Jess at her signings and panels, and Jess will help Imogen’s best friend run their booth. But as these “princesses” race to find the script leaker—in each other’s shoes—they’re up against more than they bargained for. From the darker side of fandom to unexpected crushes, Imogen and Jess must find a way to rescue themselves from their own expectations...and redefine what it means to live happily ever after. 

Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston In this third book of the Once Upon a Con series, Rosie Thorne is feeling stuck—on her college application essays, in her small town, and on that mysterious General Sond cosplayer she met at ExcelsiCon. Most of all, she’s stuck in her grief over her mother’s death. Her only solace was her late mother’s library of rare Starfield novels, but even that disappeared when they sold it to pay off hospital bills. On the other hand, Vance Reigns has been Hollywood royalty for as long as he can remember—with all the privilege and scrutiny that entails. When a tabloid scandal catches up to him, he’s forced to hide out somewhere the paparazzi would never expect to find him: Small Town USA. At least there’s a library in the house. Too bad he doesn’t read. When Vance’s and Rosie’s paths collide, sparks do not fly. But as they begrudgingly get to know each other, their careful masks come off—and they may just find that there’s more risk in shutting each other out than in opening their hearts.

— I cannot possibly overstate what an absolute delight this series was. Cute and sweet and adorable. Like rot your teeth sweet with romances that my high-school self would have swooned over. (I would have been so in love with Darien Freeman as a 16 year old, it’s not even funny. Also, I would have been obsessed with Starfield.) Let’s be honest, my current self swooned quite a lot. Reading these books genuinely felt like a love letter to fandom. To the good and bad and trashy parts of it, and it made my heart swell thinking about these fictional kids and the community they found and how much they learned and then they FELL IN LOVE and, like, not to sound like an after-school special, but: THE REP IN THESE BOOKS?!?? HOLY S H I T. So good. So goddamn good. And not, like, shoved to the side. Like, Jess falls in love with a girl. And it gets its swoon-worthy moment as much as anyone else. Plus, bi-librarian dad who wears suspenders??? Sign. Me. Up. Twisting the fairy tales into the stories also worked really well in my opinion. Honestly my only gripe was that Darien found a cell phone number in the white pages, but, like, everything else was a joy. Please read these books. I promise they will make you smile.

IN WHICH I CAN NEVER TURN DOWN A BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge Betrothed to the evil ruler of her kingdom, Nyx has always known that her fate was to marry him, kill him, and free her people from his tyranny. But on her seventeenth birthday when she moves into his castle high on the kingdom's mountaintop, nothing is what she expected—particularly her charming and beguiling new husband. Nyx knows she must save her homeland at all costs, yet she can't resist the pull of her sworn enemy—who's gotten in her way by stealing her heart.

— Yo. YO. Everyone in this book was horrible! And it was wonderful! I figured out the twist approximately point two seconds after the potential for a twist was possibly introduced and it did not diminish my enjoyment of this book for one second. I am such a sucker for any Beauty and the Beast AU, but this was way different than anything I’d read before and Nyx was a blood-thirsty terror and I loved her. The magic and the world building was fascinating in that I really did not expect Greek gods and goddess, but it was also a welcome turn in a weird, huh, that’s interesting sort of way. And the banter was a-plus, top tier. Even when they were snarking at each other. Especially when they were snarking at each other. (Still a pretty quick turn from enemies to lovers, but I’m willing to overlook that based almost solely on the snark.) Plus, the castle was fascinating. And there were more twists aside from the main twist, none of which I figured out. All of which I gasped over. The end was like—chef’s kiss, fantastic. I would like a novel-length sequel to tell me how everything worked out.

...BUT THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD ONE WASN’T AS GOOD

Crimson Bound by Rosamund Hodge When Rachelle was fifteen she was good—apprenticed to her aunt and in training to protect her village from dark magic. But she was also reckless—straying from the forest path in search of a way to free her world from the threat of eternal darkness. After an illicit meeting goes dreadfully wrong, Rachelle is forced to make a terrible choice that binds her to the very evil she had hoped to defeat.Three years later, Rachelle has given her life to serving the realm, fighting deadly creatures in a vain effort to atone. When the king orders her to guard his son Armand—the man she hates most—Rachelle forces Armand to help her hunt for the legendary sword that might save their world. Together, they navigate the opulent world of the courtly elite, where beauty and power reign and no one can be trusted. And as the two become unexpected allies, they discover far-reaching conspiracies, hidden magic . . . and a love that may be their undoing. Within a palace built on unbelievable wealth and dangerous secrets, can Rachelle discover the truth and stop the fall of endless night?

— As much as I loved Cruel Beauty, I was like ehhhh on this one. Which is part Little Red Riding Hood (although that seems like a stretch, honestly) and part The Girl With No Hands, which is a fairy tale I have literally never heard of before. Rachelle was just—sorta whiny? Which, y’know, she was cursed and had fucked up her entire life, so fair, but also...annoying. I kept reading mostly to try and understand what the FUCK was going on with the magic. I like to consider myself a relatively intelligent person who can understand most YA novels, but this one was tough to keep track of. Like, sure, the imagery of the Dark Forest was cool, but also what is a Gladspring? I’m still not sure I know. Also, this kind of dragged in some places. Lots of patrolling the palace (whining about life) and not enough magic-fighting or establishing any sort of relationship between Rachelle and Armand. Which just sort of happened? Amidst, approximately, twenty-four different twists that were admittedly cool, but also felt like they came out of nowhere. Everything that happened in Cruel Beauty made sense. Most of what happened here felt like it was shoehorned in for shock value.

YOU WANT MORAL AMBIGUITY? BOY HAVE I GOT MORAL AMBIGUITY FOR YOU. IN GODDAMN SPADES.

The Firebird Series by Claudia Gray Marguerite Caine's physicist parents are known for their groundbreaking achievements. Their most astonishing invention, called the Firebird, allows users to jump into multiple universes—and promises to revolutionize science forever. But then Marguerite's father is murdered, and the killer—her parent's handsome, enigmatic assistant Paul— escapes into another dimension before the law can touch him.Marguerite refuses to let the man who destroyed her family go free. So she races after Paul through different universes, always leaping into another version of herself. But she also meets alternate versions of the people she knows—including Paul, whose life entangles with hers in increasingly familiar ways. Before long she begins to question Paul's guilt—as well as her own heart. And soon she discovers the truth behind her father's death is far more sinister than she expected.

— Guys. GUYS. These books, oh my G O D. Little known fact about me, but I am trash for cross-dimensional soulmates. The concept of “we’ll find each other anywhere” is one of my favorites, so I was so psyched about these books. And for awhile that’s what I thought I was going to get out of them. But. BUT! What I actually got was something, not totally different, but not entirely great, either. The problem here was that when anyone used one of the Firebird devices to jump dimensions they TOOK OVER THE BODY THEY JUMPED INTO. So, like, that consciousness got shoved to the side while whatever prime!person just took over. Living that body’s life. In a different dimension. And that’s kinda fucked up, right??? Brings in all sorts of questions about consent and morality and let me tell you, guys, this YA series DID NOT ADDRESS A SINGLE ONE OF THEM. Which is also super fucked up!! So, like, Marguerite is just bouncing around dimensions taking over people’s bodies and lives and leaving this, frankly, trail of destruction in her wake. And as if that wasn’t enough!!! In the second book Paul’s soul gets, like, split and she’s got to round up the pieces through dimensions, meeting all sorts of Pauls who are occasionally kind of shit people and he eventually just, like, CANNOT COPE. Seriously, I could not stop reading these. Partially for the moral ambiguity. Partially because I could not figure out why Paul loved Marguerite. Also, capitalism was the ultimate villain. AS IT SHOULD BE, REALLY.

CREEPY FAE WERE KIND OF CREEPY AND THAT’S NOT BAD, BUT LIKE MAYBE THIS WASN’T A GOOD BOOK?

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson Isobel is an artistic prodigy with a dangerous set of clients: the sinister fair folk, immortal creatures who cannot bake bread or put a pen to paper without crumbling to dust. They crave human Craft with a terrible thirst, and Isobel’s paintings are highly prized. But when she receives her first royal patron—Rook, the autumn prince—she makes a terrible mistake. She paints mortal sorrow in his eyes—a weakness that could cost him his life. Furious, Rook spirits her away to his kingdom to stand trial for her crime. But something is seriously wrong in his world, and they are attacked from every side. With Isobel and Rook depending on each other for survival, their alliance blossoms into trust, then love—and that love violates the fair folks’ ruthless laws. Now both of their lives are forfeit, unless Isobel can use her skill as an artist to fight the fairy courts. Because secretly, her Craft represents a threat the fair folk have never faced in all the millennia of their unchanging lives: for the first time, her portraits have the power to make them feel.

— I’ve seen this book mentioned a lot. As good. And it wasn’t not good, but Isobel was pretty goddamn annoying and kind of dumb and a little self-important and I was mostly here for the creepy fae. That was fun. More fae should have antlers and stuff. Everything in this story happened ridiculously fast. I couldn’t believe it was over when it was over.

THE PROSE WAS VERY PRETTY. I’M NOT SURE WHY THE DRAGON HAD TO BE SUCH A MONUMENTAL DICK.

Uprooted  by Naomi Novik Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life. Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood. The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her. But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.

— Let me just say first off, that this should have been two books. Everything happened so quickly, I swear I got whiplash. That being said, as a heroine, I liked Agnieszka a lot. She was understandably freaked by everything that happened, but once she kind of settled, she didn’t take The Dragon’s shit and that was good because The Dragon was kind of shitty. This is why it should have been two books. Because everything The Dragon did felt like it needed some kind of explanation. Or at least some sort of reasoning for why he was such a monumental bastard. Which is why I was a little confused that Agnieszka was in love with him? He was such a dick, honestly. The last third or so of this book was the best because Novik really does know how to write action and the magic itself was pretty fascinating. (I wish it went into more depth, but I think I’m spoiled by fic and that’s not actually how the publishing world works.) Kasia might have been the most interesting person in this story. Girl went through it and just became a total badass. I loved her.

MARAUDER FEELINGS! MARAUDER FEELINGS! SO! MANY! MARAUDER! FEELINGS!

The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater All her life, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love's death. She doesn't believe in true love and never thought this would be a problem, but as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

— RICHARD GANSEY, MY BELOVED. What a dweeb. A self-sacrificing, sorta sad dweeb. When he wrapped his jacket around Blue, my heart exploded. I think I spent the last fifteen or so chapters with disconcertingly wide eyes and possibly my hand over my mouth. Still not entirely sure why a Welsh king was in Virginia, but I loved it. Was real glad he was there. As promised by that one book rec list I read months ago, the Marauders vibes of these books were off the charts. It was a weird story with lots of weird things and I hope Mr. Grey gets to be happy one day and that Ronan and Adam make out some more eventually. I think they’ll both feel a lot better if they do. Like, about the world as a whole. Has anyone read the Ronan spinoff series? Should I read the Ronan spinoff series?

OK, THIS WASN’T THAT BAD, ACTUALLY

To Love Jason Thorn by Ella Maise Jason Thorn... My brother's childhood friend. Oh, how stupidly in love with that boy I was. He was the first boy that made me blush, my first official crush. Sounds beautiful so far, right? That excitement that bubbles up inside you, those famous butterflies you feel for the very first time--he was the reason for them all. But, you only get to live in that fairytale world until they crush your hopes and dreams and then stomp on your heart for good measure. And boy did he crush my little heart into pieces. After the stomping part he became the boy I did my best to stay away from--and let me tell you, it was pretty hard to do when he slept in the room right across from mine. When tragedy struck his family and they moved away, I was ready to forget he ever existed. Now he is a movie star, the one who makes women of all ages go into a screaming frenzy, the one who makes everyone swoon with that dimpled smile of his. Do you think that's dreamy? I certainly don't think so. How about me coming face to face with him? Nope still not dreamy. Not when I can't even manage to look him in the eye. Me? I'm Olive, a new writer. Actually, I'm THE writer of the book that inspired the movie he is about to star in on the big screen. As of late, I am also referred to as the oh-so-very-lucky girl who is about to become the wife of Jason Thorn. Maybe you're thinking yet again that this is all so dreamy? Nope, nothing dreamy going on here. Not even close.

— Ignoring the fact that this was almost blatant self-insert, this was a mostly good, occasionally trashy book with brother’s best friend and the one who got away tropes. Which, as we know, are my life’s blood. (Plus, surprise, fake marriage that isn’t really fake?!? Ok. OK!) My only eeek moment was when Olive got super drunk and wanted Jason to like—consummate the marriage and he was like, No Olive, you’re drunk. And then they ended up doing everything except having full-on sex, which felt a little creep and a lot sketch and then it was never mentioned again. Also, Olive needs to find some better friends, God.

EMERSON COD VOICE: HE’S STAAAAAALKING YOU

Marriage For One by Ella Maise Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own.

— Ok, ok, ok, so I enjoyed the Jason Thorn book, right? Was, like, how bad could this other book be? And it wasn’t bad, but it was patently ridiculous. Let me explain what happened. Not entirely sorry for the spoilers. Jack the lawyer sees that Rose is only going to get the space for her coffee shop from her uncle’s will if she marries someone. She WAS engaged, but the guy split. For reasons no one can understand, especially Rose. She’s sad. She’s spent so much money on espresso machines! Enter Jack the lawyer who one random afternoon is like: HEY ROSE, YOU’RE MOSTLY A STRANGER, BUT I ALSO NEED TO GET MARRIED FOR REASONS I’LL ONLY SORTA EXPLAIN, LETS DO THAT. So they do???? And Jack the lawyer continues to be kinda weird and a little shady, but Rose has got the coffee shop and things are going well. Until! She’s got a leaky brain!!! That’s not a joke. Not a typo. Out of goddamn LEFT FIELD, Rose has got some horrible medical condition, so thank God she got married because Jack the lawyer’s got great health insurance. (this is ROMANTIC) and she’s got to have an operation and he stays with her and sleeps in the hospital chair and her coffee shop is somehow still going strong??? On Madison Avenue??? What sit-down coffee shop on Madison Avenue do you guys know that would succeed? None because it’s not downtown. I digress. Anyway, Rose makes a miraculous recovery, she and Jack the lawyer are now almost in love? At least having a shit ton of sex. They’re mostly happily married. Until, part two! The ex-fiance shows up and is like JACK THE LAWYER PAID ME TO BREAK UP WITH YOU. To which Rose is understandably flabbergasted. She confronts Jack the lawyer who fesses that he’s been seriously crushing on her since they met at her uncle’s Christmas party. She doesn’t remember this. He does. BECAUSE HE’S A STALKER. So, he knew about the will stipulation with marriage BACK THEN, which is why he used FIRM RESOURCES to investigate the ex-fiance and found out he was a con man, using Rose with plans to basically steal all her money. This infuriated Jack the lawyer because he thought Rose deserved better and then proceeded to basically con her himself, just in a different way. With marriage! He told her he needed to get married to show he was a family man to make partner. THAT WAS A LIE. He didn’t need it at all. He just—wanted to marry her??? To help her??? What a psycho. She leaves. He continues to lurk outside the coffee shop. They make up. No one mentions the stalking. The end.

I KEEP GIVING HELENA SECOND CHANCES AND SHE KEEPS...NOT DESERVING THEM

All In Series by Helena Hunting Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a monthlong sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

— Last year I read a hockey romance by Helena Hunting that was very cute and traditionally published and she’s got a bunch more free Amazon books that, for some reason, I keep downloading and reading and they continue to be absolutely ridiculous. That first one was a not-so-secret accidental pregnancy (as previously discussed ONE TIME without a condom mention and bam pregnant) but the second one with Rook’s sister was actually pretty cute. I’m not sure why they all called him Rook. Almost all these series have at least one book with someone recovering from an injury and they inevitably fall in love with their physical therapist. So, that one was pretty ok. None of these, however, were quite as entertaining as (wait for it) QUEENIE AND KINGSTON. WHOSE FRIENDS AND TEAMMATES ALL CALL HIM KING. QUEENIE. AND. KING. Gag. I read it anyway. At least 99% of that decision was based solely on the fact that the story started just after King found out his sister was actually his mom. How am I supposed to stop reading THAT?!? I ask you. Highlights of Queenie and King’s romance included: him calling his mom/sister MOMSTER, Queenie being secretly married this whole time, WITHOUT KNOWING IT, his strawberry allergy that flared up because she’d had a strawberry milkshake and then GAVE HIM A BLOWJOB, her dad finding out they were dating because he was the GM of the team and saw that his starting goalie was having a MASSIVE allergic reaction, Queenie’s eventual ex-husband getting engaged to someone who previously tried to self-inseminate to trap Rook into a relationship (I am not making this up, I swear) and then when he found out that his fiancee’s kid wasn’t actually his, he got into a massive fight and earned a 20-game suspension. THAT’S A QUARTER OF AN NHL SEASON. Tom Wilson got fined five thousand dollars for practically killing Artemi Panarin on the ice! I did not read the last book in this series because it was MORE ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY and because it was Queenie’s dad and King’s mom and that meant they’d share a sibling. Which is where I draw the line, guys.

THERE WERE SEVEN BOOKS IN THIS SERIES! EVERY SINGLE ONE HAD TO HAVE A SCENE WHERE THE DUDE UNDERSTOOD THAT PERIODS WERE A THING???? LIKE THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE SOMEHOW?!?!

Hot Jocks Series by Kendall Ryan I've never been so stupid in my entire life. My teammate's incredibly sweet and gorgeous younger sister should have been off-limits, but my hockey stick didn't get that memo. After our team won the championship, and plenty of alcohol, our flirting turned physical and I took her to bed. Shame sent her running the next morning from our catastrophic mistake. She thinks I don't remember that night—but every detail is burned into my brain so deeply, I’ll never forget. The feel of her in my arms, the soft whimpers of pleasure I coaxed from her perfect lips…And now I’ve spent three months trying to get her out of my head. Which has been futile, because I’m starting to understand she’s the only girl I’ll ever want. I have one shot to show her I can be exactly what she needs, but Elise won’t be easily convinced. That’s okay, because I’m good under pressure, and this time, I’m playing for keeps.

—I read all of these. All. Of. Them. They were exceptionally quick reads. Every single one had a copious amount of sex in it and a very weird, apparently required scene, where the dude had to be like I’M NOT SQUICKED OUT BY PERIODS AM I NOT THE ULTIMATE EXAMPLE OF MASCULINITY?? My favorite one was Grant and Ana’s, though, because it was so goddamn absurd I cannot believe someone wrote it. Basic gist was that Ana was dating someone on Grant’s team (he’s the captain, natch) but the guy was a dick and abusive and so one night Ana decides to leave, but she needs someone to help her and WHO DOES SHE TURN TO??? That’s right, reclusive captain Grant. Who’s spent the last few years watching his teammates marry-up and start families and he’s so jealous, but he can’t say anything because he’s a stoic MAN™. So he takes Ana and her dog (of course she’s got a dog) back to his super swanky bachelor pad and she just sort of...stays there? Video of the boyfriend accosting her at her job gets leaked and the boyfriend gets sent to the AHL which is not really how it would work, but fine. Naturally, Grant and Ana hook up. It’s emotional. Vaguely romantic. There’s no GODDAMN CONDOM. So, she gets pregnant. But, of course. Except! She doesn’t know if it’s dick boyfriend’s or Grant’s. Because he’s the male lead in a free sports romance on Amazon, Grant is the MOST understanding. He wants to help Ana. He would like to continue having sex with Ana. This is ready-made happily ever after. Only Ana’s like...eh?? She doesn’t want it to look like she bounced from one hockey player to the next, but also she sorta did and she kept telling Grant she just wanted to be friends, only to have sex, like, three chapters later. Then she just moved out! Just moved out. Seven months pregnant. Moving out. With her dog. Of course, this is a free sports romance on Amazon, so eventually she moved back in with Grant. Once she realized independence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And because he left practice to be there when she had the baby. Oh! And she got a DNA test after. To see whose kid it was. Grant ripped that ‘ish up. Just ripped it up. Which is cool, I guess. But, like, you didn’t want to double check? What if that kid has to go to the hospital? Did she put Grant’s name on the birth certificate? What are his parental rights?? Anyway, they’re all set to live HEA when....THE DICK BOYFRIEND DIES. Straight up. No explanation. Nothing. Just Grant tells Ana he’s dead, she’s like, oh wow that’s sad, they send some flowers to the funeral and that’s THAT. I assume this was to close any potential plot holes on the father of this baby, but it was hysterical and I cannot stop thinking about it. Strangely enough, the one where the couple made a secret sex tape in college and then got back together because it got released may have been the healthiest relationship in this series.

#book recs #book rec #book reccs #laura reads books #welllp these are books #i will not apologize for that bingo board #i think this is a highlight of accomplishments #like for me personally

[literary-spirit]

Chapter 2

Bjorn stared at Bonnie as if a second head had sprouted from her neck. "So what are you implying? That the world is not flat but-,"

"Round!" Her head bobbed in a rapid series of nods. "Yes."

He watched her for a moment longer before snorting, "Impossible...ridiculous even! Surely if I were to sail too far in either direction my ship would eventually fall into oblivion."

"No, you'd just end back up in the same place you-,"

"Land!" A gruff voice growled from the head the ship.

Torn from their back and forth, she looked up and her chin almost smacked the floor of the ship. The sight of Kattegat snatched her breath and knotted her tongue. Television didn't do Ragnar's kingdom any favors compared to what the naked eye perceived in person.

"What you're feeling now is the same feelings I have each time I return. Bonnie," Bjorn whispered next to her ear, before his rough palms closed around her hands. "Swear your allegiance to me. Remain always at my side and I vow to protect you for as long as we both remain on Midgard."

Confusion wrinkled her brows. What the hell had she done to provoke such and oath from one of history's greatest names? "Why offer me this? You hardly know me."

"Because the same emotions I feel when I return to Kattegat is the same sentiment I felt when I looked upon you for the first time," he gave her hands a squeeze, "Something within speaks to me."

"Wha-," her voice went hoarse in the presence of a throat so dry she doubted even high quality h2o could quench her thirst. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed and tried again. "What does it say?"

A smile caressed his mouth as he lifted her hands to press a kiss to the back of them, "To hold you dear. For you're to be treasured."

"Bjorn-,"

"Will you bequeath me your vow, Mystical One?" He demanded as he imprisoned her in his electric stare.

Unable to do anything but give into the iconic Viking who was destined to carve his name across time, she nodded once. "Yes, Bjorn Ironside. You have my allegiance. My sworn word that I will never stand across from you on a battlefield and if left up to me, I vow to remain by your side for as long as we both shall live."

The words were out her mouth before they had a chance to tap dance across her mind. What the hell? Why the hell would she promise such a thing? She had to find Klaus! There was no time for her to become just another name on Bjorn Ironside's hitlist.

"Good, this pleases me," He laughed and released her hands to clap his. "Now we must seal our sacred vow." The laughter faded from his features as his facial muscles stiffened into a mask of sincerity.

Her breathing slowed while she prepared for the fuckery sure to follow. "How? Please don't say by blood."

"No, this way is the right of it," he whispered as he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. Slowly, he leaned down to allow his lips to graze hers. Before it fully registered what jumped off he pulled away. "Now it is done."

"Okay, so now that's out of the way," she cut her gaze to the shore as she attempted to even her breathing and calm the flipping in her stomach. "How do you plan to explain me to your wife and the rest of your family?"

Bjorn's face scrunched. "How-," she halted his question with an unflinching gaze. The smirk on her lips hinted at all-knowing. He inclined his head as a concession of sorts, "Allow me to worry over my family. I have given you my sworn oath. There is no other in Midgard who can compel me to break my vow to you."

"Alright, my protector," she glanced over the multitude of people who at present packed the harbor, "I believe you."

Bjorn helped her off the ship onto the dock. When he turned two children raced into his arms followed by a petite woman with crinkled flaxen hair. Torvi. After the kids had released him, she threw herself in his arms and kissed him so hard she damn near sucked his whole head in her mouth. Moments later he untangled himself from her hold.

"How fare your travels, husband? Did the gods smile favorably upon you, was greatness achieved?" Torvi questioned as her gaze drifted to Bonnie and lingered.

"My travels have fared better than even I anticipated. For the gods have bestowed upon me the most wondrous of gifts," Bjorn turned to cast a wide smile at her and an extended hand. Accepting the outstretched palm, she allowed him to pull her to his side, "This is Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls and she is under my protection."

"Is she a slave then, Bjorn?" The oldest of the two boys questioned.

"No, Guthrum," Bjorn kneeled before the child to stare him in the eyes, "She is to be a most sacred friend to our family and that is how we shall all regard her."

"But she is dressed as a slave," Guthrum insisted, waving a hand at the burlap sack dress she wore.

Bjorn tsked. "Guthrum, it is not the garments that are donned which confirms the value of one's worthiness. However, worry not. For she shall be cloaked in the finest hides, silks, and furs befitting her station soon enough."

Raw pain etched its way across Torvi's face. "So you have taken a mistress?"

"I'm not his mistress, nor will I ever be," Bjorn head snapped around to peer up at Bonnie and she gave him a look that carried the weight of her words, before her gaze swung back to meet Torvi's flared stare, "on that you have my word."

"She speaks our language," She said, her words ringing more as a statement than a question, "Fluently, it would seem. Did you teach her?"

This gave Bonnie pause. Weren't they all speaking English? There wasn't an ice-water day in hell she spoke old Norse fluently. Not even with Super Head's tongue.

"Bjorn!"

Two tall lean muscled boys just beyond the dawn of manhood with eyes as transfixing as Bjorn's, cut through the crowded dock. Without any need for introductions, she knew who they were before hello crossed either one of their lips, Ubbe and Hvitserk. One after the other, they gathered Bjorn in a spine crushing hug. Each brother concluded their embrace with a pound to the back.

"How went your raid, brother?" Ubbe asked. A longing flicker which couldn't be mistaken for anything other than wanderlust sparked his unblinking azure stare, "Was the plunder worthy of the voyage?"

Hvitserk laughed and his consideration wandered from them to her. His iridescent sapphire blue irises almost leapt from their sockets. "How far south did you raid, brother?" He questioned, while running his gaze up then down her and back again.

Curious, Ubbe tracked his brother's stupefied stare back to her. When his gaze crashed landed on her, he stepped around Bjorn to invade her personal space. Once he towered over her, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. He then lifted the digit to his face for inspection.

"I assure you, it doesn't rub off," Bonnie said, before reaching up to do the same to him. When she inspected her thumb, she frowned down at the dirt on the pad of her finger. "But I see that yours does." She lifted her finger for him to see.

Ubbe's scrutiny snapped back to her face and doubled in its intensity.

"Where will you be placing her to serve, Bjorn?" He demanded

"She's not a thrall," Guthrum corrected, "she's a sacred friend to the family."

"What?!" Ubbe and Hvitserk questioned in unison.

"Guthrum speaks the truth," Bjorn cosigned, while inserting himself between them in order to address Ubbe and Hvitserk face to face, "Bonnie is a free woman and has my sworn vow of protection. Fear not, however," He pointedly glanced back at the blonde-haired, blue-eyed slave girl who pleaded to have her thrown in the sea to please the gods. She in turn cast her gaze downward and feigned modesty. "I have secured a wealth of suitable thralls to add to the great hall, stables, and trading block." Ubbe and Hvitserk exchanged smirks. "Now come, let us make our way back to the keep. I'm in need of a meal and rest."

****

Bonnie glanced the one room shack. Like on television there wasn't much to the small space. There was hardly any room for Bjorn and his family. Where in the hell did he expect her to sleep? Her gaze moved to the only bed in the home. A pair of hands grasped her shoulders.

"My uncle Rollo has a keep only a few paces from here. My plans are to restore it so you may reside there," Bjorn whispered next to her ear, answering her unasked question as if he had real time Shade Room updates to her thoughts. "It should be complete before we sail for the Mediterranean."

A smile trembled across her lips. "You want me at your side when you sail for the Mediterranean?"

"Of course," Bjorn crowded her into a corner and lowered his voice, "There is a great truth I am with haste coming to realize."

"And that is?" She questioned, while noticing Torvi side-eying the hell out of them.

"There is not a moment when I do not long to have you at my side," he answered.

"And when did you have time to come to this conclusion in the three days of knowing me?" Bonnie scoffed. "Bjorn, I have yet to leave your side so how can you long for something you never had to miss." She inhaled and dropped her head to exhale. She needed a moment to mentally check herself. The angst gnawing at her chest had nothing to do with Bjorn and everything to do with the 21st century Viking she may or may not have left behind. "Look, this isn't what you think it is, trust me." She placed a hand on his chest. "You're just in the throes of a fleeting infatuation."

"You doubt my words?" He demanded stepping impossibly closer. The press of his hard body, pounding of his heart, and the unyielding steel hanging midway down his thigh spoke major fuckery about his earnestness.

"Never, I'm just skeptical about the longevity of their sincerity," she admitted, "Especially, when physical consummation isn't forthcoming. I meant what I said, Bjorn Lothbrok! I refuse to be your mistress. I won't do that to Torvi."

A knock sounded on the door, cutting off anything further he had to say. Torvi rushed over to answer it. Soon after in walked Sigurd. Aggravation provoked the muscle in Bjorn's jaw to twitch but despite his irritation he turned to greet his brother.

In three strides he crossed the room and embraced Bjorn. Sigurd eyed her over Bjorn's shoulder. "By the gods Hvitserk did speak the truth. You are in possession of a maiden who is cloaked in twilight even in the sunlight. Is she that pigmentation all over, brother?"

"I can assure you, young Sigurd, Ironside wouldn't be able to tell you one way or the other," Bonnie snapped.

Sigurd scoffed. "Young Sigurd? The brazenness of you! I'll wager you've yet to greet your sixteenth summer! You barely have the look of a girl who's one and five."

She tossed her head back and laughed at his flattery which bordered on absurdity. "You're sweet, but I haven't seen sixteen in eleven summers."

"Impossible," Sigurd spat as if he were on the verge of calling her a damn lie.

"Well you know what they say about black," She shrugged as she glanced down. Guthrum and Hali appeared to be hanging onto every syllable of her words. Introducing a set of stereotypes to a race of people who'd yet to form an opinion about her race of people wouldn't be a good look.

"No, what do they say," Sigurd demanded.

Her gaze rose to meet his. "They say nothing, and why're you so pressed to know my age anyway, Viking? Don't you know it's bad form to question a woman about the amount of summers she's seen?"

Torvi released a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chortle.

Bjorn leveled them with a not here for it expression before returning his attention back to Sigurd. "Why are you here, Sigurd?"

"My mother has prepared a great feast in your honor. She requests you bring your family and your..." his gaze moved over Bonnie as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, "charge for an eve of merriment." He stepped around Bjorn to loom over her, "Name yourself."

"She is Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls," Guthrum answered.

Bjorn turned Sigurd towards the door. "Inform your mother that my family, charge, and I shall attend. Now seek out your leave so we may be rested for whatever Aslaug has planned."

#bonniebennett #fanfiction #vampirediaries #vikings #bjorn ironside #crossover #ivar the boneless #hvitserk #ubbe lothbrok #sigurd #ragnar lothbrok #the originals

[babbushka]

Bath

Medieval!Kylo x Reader (Set in the All My Stars universe)

2.4k ; no real warnings, just a lot of fluff :^)

                                                     ---------

You are sitting in the throne room, when the news comes. All at once, someone bursts through the heavy stone doors, early morning light flooding into the spacious area with it. All helmets and veils turn towards the intrusion, the guards which have been sworn to watch you in your husband’s wake have their swords drawn, prepared.

But it is just a squire, a young boy out of breath, hair flopping in his face as he braces himself on his knees before bowing deeply before you.

“Your Majesty, they’ve arrived.” The squire announces, and your pulse jumps in excitement.

Kylo is home, you think, elated, he has come home.

You are out of your throne in an instant, and before anyone can have a chance to react, you have lightly grabbed the squire’s hand and are running alongside him out of the hall.

“Bring me to him at once.” Your feet carry you swiftly through the long room, two lines of people on either side of the plush carpet bowing and curtsying as you pass them. “Please prepare the baths! He is sure to be covered from toe to nose in mud.” You laugh, unable to contain your joy.

You run after the squire as he takes you through the grounds to the back gate where Kylo and his Knights of Ren can be seen leading an impressively sized army just beyond the hills. Heavy bells are tolled and trumpets are sounded to alert the castle’s town of their arrival, and those living in the area all flock to the hillside where they await their loved ones.

You do not wait, however, and as the people cheer when the banners of Alderaan proudly wave in the morning mist, you abandon the squire, gathering your skirts in your hands as you push your legs ever faster.

Kylo is atop Samantha only until he sees you charging towards him. He halts his steed so that he may jump off of her, and soon he is closing the distance on foot between you.

Your bodies collide with a deafening applause from the crowds, and as the army rushes around you to meet with their wives, mothers and children they had missed, you embrace your husband. Your soul has soared high into the sky, you laugh and laugh has Kylo twirls your body around and around, refuses to let your feet touch the ground.

“Do you return to me in victory?” You work to yank his helmet off of his head, cup his mail-covered cheeks and kiss his dirt-stained lips. They are chapped, and they are bruised, but they kiss you back and he is alive and that is all that matters.

“I have brought another crown for you to wear.” Kylo says, and your eyes grow wide when this is no metaphor, when he sets you down just long enough that he can pull a golden and jewel encrusted headpiece, one with the most ornamentation you could have imagined.

“All hail King Kylo.” You grin, so proud of him, so proud of his army, your army. You appraise the state of him, the red splotches of adrenaline and border-line hysteria from the thrill of the win in his sparkling eyes, the way he is absolutely covered in dirt and dried blood. “You are filthy.”

Kylo only grins at you, teeth stained red from the battle he has so valiantly fought. He hoists you onto Samantha, climbing behind you. The horse only protests at the combined weight of the both of you for a moment, before she too is galloping through the town to catch up with the army.

The town makes way for the two of you, cheering and chanting in support of the King. They throw flower petals and confetti up into the air as the bells toll and the trumpets sound, music fit for a celebration. There would be a grand feast this night, a grand one indeed.

You leave Sam in the capable hands of the stable boys, and though he must be exhausted, Kylo chases you up the castle stairs, pinching at your back and thighs to keep you in high spirits, playful and simply so happy to be home, happy to be back with you.

He chases you all the way to the bathing room, where two large wooden tubs lined with linen to protect from splinters have been filled with boiling hot water. The water is filled with both all manner of natural oils that give it a healthy fragrance and beneficial properties, and flower petals for decoration which float to the top. The steam which rises from the basin fogs the glass of the windows, sticks to the inky black armor which Kylo has become so famous for.  

“Where are your wounds, O warrior king?” You ask, drawing a love heart into his chest-plate, closing your eyes and leaning up to kiss him properly, kiss him privately.

You swiftly remove his armor, all four layers of plate and chain, the protective padding which needs to be mended, slashes in the garment an evidence of an attempting stabbing. But when you peel away the last layer of sweat and blood crusted fabric, when he is standing naked before you, you find his flesh blessedly unmarred, save for a few nicks and scratches.

“They are far and few in between, none so deadly this time.” Kylo replies, a soothing thumb on your cheek as he licks hot copper into your mouth. “Will you join me?”

He means the bath, and you nod straight away. No one would be able to prevent you from staying right by his side, not now that he has returned after three weeks of a campaign.  

“Always.” You breathe, before you are shedding your own layers, a much faster endeavor than removing his armor. You leave it all on a heap on the floor, someone will come and take them away when you are done, you pay it no mind. “Help me in, I fear my knees are too weak whenever you are near, I can scarcely keep myself held upright, let alone climb into a tub.”

Kylo only grins at you, appraises your body. He has no doubt missed you in his time away, for you have missed him terribly, and he always has been so incredibly drawn to you. You give him your hand and he is a steady weight for you to lean on as you both step into the piping hot bath.

Baths like this were a luxury, a privilege, fit only for royalty. But royalty you were, and as you both sink down down down under the water, as your skin flushes and reddens at the heat of it, neither of you can hold in the great sigh of relief which leaves your lips.

Already Kylo looks cleaner. The loose dirt and particles have already begun to wash off, sinking to the bottom of the tub. But you know it will take some scrubbing to remove it all, so after a kiss or two, your wet hands drip over the basin for a moment so you may grab a small bar of soap and a wash cloth made of striped linen that has been set on a stool near the tub.

The grime is stubborn, but you are even more so, and with each pass of the lathered cloth, the water grows more and more cloudy. This is why the second tub has been prepared, so that once the dirt is removed, you both may lounge in the new, clean hot water. Simmering coals underneath it keep it from growing cold while you spend time in the first bath.

Washing the King is considered a true gift, nothing short of an honor. The monarchs before you would use their baths as a display of power, of wealth. At least three men or women would douse the King in perfumed water from golden goblets, would do so with their own heads bowed, grateful, thankful for the opportunity to serve the King so.

But you and Kylo have changed this, have deviated from the rules. No one is allowed in this sacred space, no one may see you or him together like this. It is an intimate time for you, and washing your husband’s skin is less of an honor and more of a bonding moment – not that the two of you could grow much closer.

Underneath the water, Kylo’s hands brush against your skin, caress your body, bring you to sit on his lap, straddling him. You smile as he tries to clean you in return, laugh as his touch tickles. There is still dirt underneath his fingernails, but he is far more concerned with cupping his palms and dousing your shoulders with the water to keep your exposed skin from shivering.

Playfully, you toss the cloth straight at his face, covering it entirely. He shakes it off and lunges for you, splashes water all across the stone floors, your laughs echoing loudly no doubt for all those in the hall outside to hear. You swim away from him, as far as the relatively small basin will allow, swim away until he snatches you round the middle, but you grab his jaw in your hand, hold it just an inch or two away from your own which he desperately wants to kiss.

“You do not make this easy, you know.” He growls, and you only raise your eyebrows in jest, as your other hand drifts down below the water to tease the thick patch of hair that leads down to his proud cock.

“Good, I should like to be as difficult as possible.” You muse, holding his face still as you come only close enough to rub the tips of your noses together, “It’ll keep you on your toes.”

Kylo rolls his eyes and you release him, thinking he’ll behave. He doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, his hands all over you as you attempt to scrub the muck out of his beautiful raven locks.

“I wish to wash your hair.” He pouts, hands already reaching for the pins which keep your hair tied up and away, purposefully left dry.

“No my darling, it was just washed a night ago.” You explain, ducking away from him, and he doesn’t like the sound of this, grumbles and is set to complain.

“But – ”

“You may wash it at the week’s end, I promise.” You cut him off with a kiss once you have cleansed his teeth with a bristled brush, once they shine white once more.

“How do I look?” Kylo asks, satisfied with that compromise.

“Handsome.” You reply honestly, and he grows shy, always grows shy when you compliment his features. “Let us move to the second bath, this one has gone thick with sludge.” You decide, his skin smooth and cleansed like new.

The second tub is meant for relaxing, for leisure. There are bundles of cloth wound and rolled into pillows, submerged in the water, and Kylo leans his head against one as he pulls your back to his chest.

Your knees stick out of the water slightly, and he slides his hands around you to cover them, lest you grow cold. Your head is nestled against his strong shoulder, face turned towards your husbands. He in turn, has his face to yours, and the two of you simply breathe in the scent of the clean water, press soft kisses to the corners of each other’s mouths.

“You have doubled the size of our kingdom with this win, you realize this?” You whisper with pride, and he smiles, for yes, he does.

“We will manage well.” Kylo is sure, his hands retreating from your knees to wedge between your thighs, simply enjoying the feeling of being sandwiched there. “Naboo was quick to surrender, they remember the kind ruling of my grandmother, and I have promised to uphold her legacy with pride. I hope for us to build a new castle there, the scenery rivals that of anything I have seen, you would no doubt love spending the summer months there.”

Kylo does not speak this much unless he is particularly excited about something, although his reserved tone would not dare betray such feelings. Still, you know him well enough now to know he is genuinely thrilled, pleased, even if his voice is soft and low.

“Tell me of it.” You encourage as you let your eyes close, let yourself imagine the place which your husband has won for you.

“It is the Lake Country, this I am certain of. Grand cascading lakes which fall off the side of cliffs, which send spray sparkling into the sky. Light glitters like diamonds on the blue of the water, I have never seen such a serene place. Alderaan will be better for it, with this victory.” Kylo’s hands trace idle patterns against your skin, and you can feel his fingertips have begun to turn into raisins.

“I do believe some celebration of your victory is in order when we remove ourselves from this bath.” You grin, grasping his hands in your own, twining the fingers together.

“Celebration of what sort, goddess divine?” Kylo asks, cheeky, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“First I think I shall ride you into oblivion, and then we shall feast and dance with the people, honor the soldiers who have fought so well beside you.” You go nearly cross-eyed to look at him from such an angle as the one you are in, but still you can see the way a dark hunger pools in his eyes.

“Pray tell, why must we wait for the bath to be over to begin such a celebration?” He licks his lips, and you can only bite at his lower lip, bruise the reddened flesh there.

“Because I want to be in our bed when you make me scream.” You whisper against his lips.

He is moving comically quickly when he manhandles you so you both can stand, can climb over the tub and onto the soft floor mat so neither of you slip on the wet stone floor. All at once he is breaking the peace with his newfound excitement and eagerness, and you laugh and yelp as he does only as much as wrap a long sheet around you tying one only around his hips, before he hoists you up and over his shoulder with ease.

There are many a back passage to the royal bedchambers, and you know that his expert legs will carry you to your bed with ease, where he can then absolutely make you scream.

As you lightly punch his strong back in jest, you are only glad that you suggested such a thing once the two of you were clean.

                                                         -----------

Tagging medieval loving pals once again lol sorry if this is annoying just want to share the love! <3  @adamsnackdriver​​​​​ @dreamboatdriver​​​​​ @kyloxfem​​​​​ @autumnlovesadam​​​​​ @solotriplets​​​​​ @driverficarchive​​​​​ @kylo-renne​​​​​ @formerly-anonhamster​​​​​ @thepilotanon​​​​​ @joannapenguin​​​​​ @whiskey-bumblebee​​​​​ @passengereve​​​​​ @venusianmaiden​​​​​ @callmehopeless​​​​​ @sarcasticallyhateful​​​​​ @ilikebritsandbands​​​​​ @tinyplanet-explorers​​​​​ @kittyofalltrades​​​​​ @princessofpow​​​​​ @softcrybabykid​​​​​ @inkstaineddaughter​​​​ @wonderneverland562​​​​ @magikevalynn​​​ @ellie-emb​

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo x reader #kylo/reader #kylo ren imagine #medieval au #my writing

[ktheist]

thirteen.

chapters:  12 / 13 / 14

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

x

It’s a silent exchange.

The young guard does not say a word when he bows and unlocks the door to your knight’s sell. You nod in acknowledgement despite knowing his head is kept too low to see it, hand outstretched for the bags of shillings. It’s an established routine at this point.

“Can you smell the roses?” His back is on you, facing the minute window just inches from the ceiling, as though he could see what was beyond the pitch black of the night and the patches of grey in the scar.

The journey to the tower is lonelier than usual. The moon smiles behind dark clouds but the stars bear witness to your nightly schemes. Somewhere along the way, you pass the garden. Indeed, the roses are in full bloom.

“They’re not as pretty as the ones back home,” you set the basket of bread on the wooden bed, joining him on the ground.

He shrugs, a wistful smile on his lips as you wonder if he remembers what home is as the memory fades away for you with each passing day. That’s not to say you have more time to admire the gardens at home than you do here. A different kind of affair occupies your time. You’ve set foot in the village a few days ago; that’s more freedom you get than you first arrived.

The villagers were... tolerable for the most part. You don’t expect to run around in a circle with the maidens and sing hymns of peace when the aftermath of the war is still a fresh wound to most of them. Losing your face with a rotten tomato and eggs in your hair is something not too far off your imagination when you decide to step out of the castle’s gates.

“I heard she offered herself to the prince once she realized she’s losing. And now, she’s pregnant with Prince Taehyung’s heir. That’s the only reason for the royal marriage.”

“So it’s true. Didn’t her mother, the current Queen of her kingdom, come from a lowly noble family who enchanted her way into the King’s heart?”

That was when you heard a crack! against the back of your head.

“Go back to where you come from, whore!”

“Murderer! My brother died in the war because of you!”

“You will never be our Queen!”

The onslaught of rotten food being thrown at you only increased from then. Your face was bruise-free but you couldn’t say the same for your arms that you used to shield your face. The evening stroll turned to a run when you had to rush away from the town, having chosen to go by foot instead of a carriage that you could have escaped into.

“Who did this?” Taehyung’s heated demand reverberates against the walls of the dining hall when you showed up to dinner with a scarf around your head because Eunha was shaking while she washed your hair in fear for losing her job if she didn’t finish in time; she didn’t but you promised she was your maid and the only one who can fire her was you which you’d never do over uncleaned hair. He easily put two and two together having been the prince and someone who likes to stick his nose where he shouldn’t,“who dares commit a crime against the royal family?”

“Oh, sit down, son.” You were sure the Queen rolled her eyes at her son’s dramatic exclamation before feeding a piece of well-sliced steak into her mouth.

Taehyung’s reaction took you off guard but it’s easy to brush it off as an act of pride. Those who dared insult the Princess insulted the royal family as a whole. Not paying much heed to his extended inquiries in the bedroom, you disregarded his presence with a short, “it’s been a long day, your highness. I shall have my hot bath and rest.”

Your maid had picked up where she left off with your hair. It wasn’t too much work so she proceeded to massage your shoulders while you almost fell asleep in the tub.

By the time you thanked Eunha for her effort (to which she hurriedly credited it to her line of work), Taehyung was snoring softly beneath the sheets. He’s been getting better at doing whatever he wanted since Jungkook’s absence. You held your breath as the flickering candle that colored part of his unclothed chest a golden tan when you went to blow it off next to him.

It was a risk but you hadn’t seen Jungkook for five days, thus you deemed it a risk worth taking as you tip toed out of your chamber, cloaked in a black robe that assists you more than once to blend in with the shadows when you come across with the patrols.

Jungkook inhales the baked goods with zeal. Perhaps, this was the closest he’s been as a commoner if he hadn’t lead a vengeful life.

He brings a piece to your mouth, thumb lingering on your bottom lip a tad longer before his gaze makes you hot and shy all at once.

“Have you been trying to burn the royal kitchen?” He smirks, revealing the egg shell he picked from your hair.

“I went to the village nearest to the castle,” you swipe the shell piece off his hands and throw it behind you, “which is safer than trying to cook, thank you for worrying about the kitchen.”

“Doesn’t explain why you have egg shell in your hair,” he sets the bread on top of the mountain of pastries in the basket, shifting so his upper body is facing you.

You stay quiet, smiling at him somberly. It would do no good to burden him with the knowledge of the people - now, your people - and how they welcomed you but if you lied, he could see through it.

“They threw eggs at you,” his words are laced with a sort of venom that you’re no stranger to, if anything it reminds you of home, how within the walls of the castle you grew up in, Jungkook had sworn to protect but most of all, to kill those who dared came in your way.

“I’m not hurt,” you clarify as he cups your cheeks in inspection, “it’s my favorite dress being ruined that puts a bump on the evening.”

At that, Jungkook finally relents. Hands dropped onto your lap, caressing yours, he comments on your interest in dresses and the newfound information that you have a favorite.

“Besides the concerns of the citizens that Lord Park allowed me handle, there’s not much to do besides admiring the types of lace on a dress.”

Rueful silence hangs in the air for half a minute before Jungkook speaks again, “at least the crown treats you fairly well.”

“The crown is kind because I am of use to it,” you’re aware that your voice is shaking but you keep your gaze firm.

This silence is different yet telling. The kind of silence that doesn’t need you begging for a change, for an escape. You’ve known then and you know now but there’s a part of you, one that longs for freedom and a life without the chains of the blue in your blood.

Jungkook is the first to break eye contact this time. Those eyes that have always looked straight at you, peeled the deepest layer of you, has turned away from you. It doesn’t show - you make sure the hurt doesn’t show across your face.

“It is a duty to borne by every Queen,” he slowly speaks as if it isn’t a cruel expectation set by your predecessors.

“Is that all women are good for?” Oh, no. This isn’t good. The first tear wets your left cheek before another falls on the other, “to... to...”

The words gets choked in your throat. Just like the night you watched the flicker of flames licking the houses of the villagers, you try to push him away until you tire yourself. Jungkook’s arms are strong yet gentle as ever.

He holds you closest tonight and touches you softly. But his words are sparse. Jungkook never showers you with sugar coated words just to ease your heart. He says it for what it is or not at all for you are no fool and you of all people know what morning has in store.

x

“Your highness!” Eunha burst into the room with a couple of maids trailing behind her. They’re carrying trays of your breakfast.

When she saw Yerin, your recently appointed lady-in-waiting, was doing your hair, her head drops almost instantly as though coming face-to-face with her was a great sin. Yerin is part of the higher noble family. At some point, you heard from your resourceful maid, that she was to be paired with Taehyung who is now your husband. To serve the woman who she must have seen stolen her place was one thing, but you were understood that her father, a high ranking officer, had been maimed from the war and the family income had gone to treating his injury. That was why she volunteered to be a lady-in-waiting. 

Naturally, she wouldn’t like Eunha or any commoner worker that acted familiar with you, the enemy-princess-turned-wife to the Prince. You dismiss Yerin as soon as she’s done with your hair, telling her that you would be in the office the King set up for your personal affair as you were more involved with the affairs of the kingdom, so you wouldn’t need the usual over-the-top royalty appearance.

“Your highness, have you heard?” Eunha is by your side in no time along with the other two maids.

You take a sip of the tea. It’s catered precisely to your liking. Sweet but not overly sweet.

“Certainly, I haven’t.”

“Prince Taehyung sent guards to the village. They carried away those suspected of disrespecting you yesterday!” She clasps her hand to her chest as she stares at you with stars in her eyes.

“Does he intend to punish them?” You set the teacup back on its causer with a sharp click that seems to have resonated through the maids’ growing gushes. 

The breakfast remains untouched when you get up from the gold-encrusted armchair. You barely remember the maids leaping to their feet and dipping into a bow as you exit through the door.

x

You intersect Taehyung at the fountain. He waves his personal knight off as you approach, the conversation before you arrive too low for you to catch.

“To what do I owe this honor to/.” he acknowledges but without the smirk. You’ve seen glimpses of this side of him, mostly when he chooses to disregard your presence or have a more important matter to attend to.

“The commoners you had the guards force out of their homes,” the voice you use is smooth but the tightness of your face is not concealable, “what do you plan to do to them?”

“Do you not have your own work to do?” He’s referring to the concerns of the citizens. It was part of the Queen’s duties to listen to them but Lord Park had managed to convince the King to delegate some of the work to you.

If the Queen felt threatened by your taking over some of her work, she didn’t show. The curt dismissive tone she used to make her son shut up could mean anything. She might have truly felt irritated over the fuss made by her son over you.

“It couldn’t be that you missed me so much that you came all the way here just to see me,” there it is. The smirk. The silence you choose over entertaining his retort has invited another one, “I heard you spent the night at one of the maid’s rooms last night. You can’t run forever.”

At that, something stirs deep inside of you but you don’t allow your face to display more than what is already in the open. That doesn’t mean you don’t, all of a sudden, want to slap that smirk off his face.

“I don’t know what you are planning, your highness but the cruelty you show towards your people will not be beneficial for you,” his lips twitch but that’s it, so you go on, “keep in mind that Lord Min, your cousin has a claim over the throne. I pray that no revolt rises to roll you over. It will be an inconvenience for me.”

The last part is the truest. If he is ruined, if the people has had enough and knew of the recluse cousin of the Crown Prince and a chance for a kinder monarch, then you’d be ruined too. 

“I shall take my leave, your highness.” You brush past his speechless figure. Whether the guards or maids who were around chooses to relay the lack of court etiquette displayed to the Prince, you have no control over it. But after the complete drop of the Prince’s smirk, you’re sure that you’ve gained what you came here to do.

x

Tonight, it’s safe for you sneak out of your chambers, hood cloaked around your body and a maid’s outfit underneath. Eunha had willingly lend it to you when you told her that you wished to step out of the palace’s walls without having eggs thrown at you. Or at least without anyone realizing the pearls and diamonds hanging off your dress screamed royalty.

...or so you thought.

Your body turns to ice at the figure standing in front of you. Unlike you, he didn’t look like he was caught red-handed though the wide eyes tells you he is surprised.

“You -”

His long strides takes him to you faster than you manage to get out any words past that. With a hand cupped on your mouth, he pulls you into a corridor and presses himself into the shadow. The only part of you that is visible is your ankle which you have no other space to squeeze it with the way the light slants across the tiny space.

The sound of footsteps causes you to involuntarily clutch his sleeve until they’re gone. You breathe out in relief only to have the goosebumps return at the sharp, accusing look peering down at you. With only the light from the flames burning behind you, the tug on his lips appear more sinister than it should.

“Look who lost her way.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #networkbangtan #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #knight!jungkook #princess!reader

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 11 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea

Loki stood over his wife’s bed looking at her. He didn’t even know when she began to look ill. Could it have come on that suddenly? He had lain with her the night before. She had not made mention of being ill then. Though he had to admit she said nothing, but her body reacted to him as it usually did. He knew well by now how to make her feel pleasure, it made their coupling far easier and he had read that it encouraged fertility. She looked like death was all but imminent. He did not know how to feel. 

His father came into the room. “Why is she in here?” He looked around. “Why is she still in here? Her belongings remain here, the smell would suggest she has been here all along. Loki, what is the meaning of this?” 

“She lives here.” “Why?” His father growled. Loki did not answer. “Why is she still in here?” “She requested to return here on her wedding night and remained since,” He snarled. “This is entirely her choice.” “When the Allfather hears this, he will feel his previous analysis was more than accurate. Whether she lives or dies, he could take the Casket again, it is bringing us to strength and now we will be without it and in war again, as well as the loss of her life.” “The Allfather…” Loki began. 

“The Allfather is on his way from Asgard and the likelihood is, he is coming to collect his daughter’s corpse,” Laufey bellowed. “It is war. As soon as he sees her, he will declare it. She is at the gates of Valhalla. What has happened to her?”

“I genuinely do not know.” It was entirely true, due to not caring to check on her, Loki had no inclination as to how she had gotten so sick. 

“This is not something that has occurred suddenly, look at her appearance,” Arden interjected.   

Laufey looked at Loki. “When was the last time you saw her?” “In here, last night. We are trying to give the realm an heir, I came every other night to do so.” “It would have been more useful to have her in the room with you.” He growled. “What was her demeanour last night?”

“The same as it always is.” “And the last time such occurred in your supposed marriage bed, what then? Did she seem ill?” Loki said nothing. “What is going on here, Loki? You swore to the Allfather, to me, that you would do what you could to be a good husband to her, yet we stand here…” “Sire?” Laufey turned to his guard. “The Head Healer of Asgard has arrived.” “Norns be praised. Bring her in at once.” The guard left and a moment later, a woman entered. “Eir, daughter of Tyr.” “King Laufey,” She curtsied. “I was told the…” She ceased talking and walked over to the bed, her gaze on Ella. “How…?” “We are unsure. She entered the Throne Room today and collapsed.” Laufey stated. 

For a moment, Eir said nothing as she looked over Ella. When she spoke again, her words were clearly chosen very carefully. “Your Majesty, this is not an illness of a mere day or so but of multiple weeks of neglect. I must ask for the truth and nothing but if I am to save her. If she is to die, then it would be kinder to do nothing but make her end as easy on her as possible.” “Your oath…” Arden growled. “You are sworn to protect those of your care, to heal any who require it.” “And to give comfort to those beyond my intervention.” She replied. “Princess Ella is all but in the halls of Valhalla at this moment.” 

“Save her,” Laufey ordered. “Anything you require, no matter what the price, you use.” 

Eir nodded before looking around. “The Allfather has called court to a close because of your messenger. He is preparing to travel. The Allmother is not available at present. She is currently in the Gardens of Tyrell on Alfheim, as you know, none can be contacted there.” She looked again. “If this is not some attempt to induce suffering but a genuine issue, I would suggest some manner of making it seem like she was not simply locked in here for the past month or more.” She suggested. 

Catching her meaning, Laufey ordered the room be made more presentable. “How long do we have?” “Ten minutes at most. He was ordering the stables ready Sleipnir on my leaving.” Laufey became fearful. Odin usually only rode Sleipnir in battle. “We best rush this along so. Loki, open the windows slightly.” “But…”

“NOW, BOY!”

Startled by his father speaking in such a manner, Loki did as his father instructed and tidied the room. 

He had barely removed the simply cast aside bed pelts that were covered in his seed and simply pulled off the bed aside when the doors to the rooms burst open and Odin strode in, Gungnir in his hand. “Where is she?” He saw Eir working on his daughter. On seeing her, his eye filled with rage. “What has happened here?” “Allfather, I need a health shield immediately before she succumbs to cold or illness,” Eir requested. Odin did as she asked without hesitation or moment of pause. “She is gravely ill, I am not sure if she will make it.”

Odin’s rage grew and he turned to Laufey. “I knew you could not be trusted, and to make her suffer, death will be too good for you.” “None of this was done intentionally.” Laufey tried to placate. “She has chosen to remain here and not attend court for a long time."

"Do you expect me to believe Ella would ignore court, she loves court. The learning of the goings-on of the realm, she always loved it. She was not supposed to go to court until she was six hundred, she has been there officially since she was five hundred and only because she spent fifty years previous sneaking in. She rearranged her tutors to fit around court. You expect me to believe that with an entirely new one to learns the goings-on of, she would confine herself to her rooms like one in exile? Do you think me a fool?" Odin shook in rage. "No, Ella would never do so. Where are her Ladies, I want answers." No one answered him for a moment. "Well?" 

"Jotunheim does not have such ridiculous roles. High born servants are nothing more than an insult to our people." Loki stated as he had to Ella previously, though slightly more politely. 

"Ladies do not act as servants, that is what maids are for. Though Ladies assist with menial tasks like fixing a queen or Princess's hair and such, but their true purpose is to keep a woman who is not able to simply socialise company and to be her confidentes, not to serve her lunch." Odin snarled. "If she doesn't have Ladies, then where is her chambermaid?"

"There are no specific maids to her," Arden spoke warily, seeing Odin's rage rise as he did so. 

"So my daughter has been living in isolation? That is what you are telling me? There is no way in the Nine Realms she would skip court if her private time is so isolated. She is a social creature, she loves speaking with others, it is where she is most content, that and hiding in nooks reading, usually everything she can about this damn realm and…" he stopped himself going any further, sensing his rage growing too much, so he inhaled deeply. "It is void, all agreements are void. Even if by some miracle, my daughter lives, everything we have agreed will be rendered obsolete. The marriage will be dissolved and she will return to Asgard, everything that was part of the marriage agreement will be removed also," He stated sadly. 

Laufey looked at Ella and sighed. He then looked at Loki, who seemed to be in shock at what he was hearing. 

When Loki looked into his father's eyes, he saw resignation. "Father…"

"I think it best if you say nothing now," Laufey growled before turning to face Odin. "I cannot force you to reconsider, Allfather, I only ask that you make it quick. I am too weak to fight and I would only embarrass myself if I did."

"Father…" Loki stepped forward. 

"Do not involve yourself, Loki." Laufey turned to face Odin once more. "This was never what I wanted. I had so many wonderful plans for Jotunheim and your daughter was to be there for them. Every day since the wedding I saw her she asked for about the Casket and if it was healing the realm again. My plan was to bring her tomorrow to the first of the plants that are now thriving once more because of it. It has not grown in the thousand years since the Casket left yet it has returned. I wished for her to see such." He looked sadly at Ella, whose breathing was still harsh as Eir worked tirelessly on her. "Had I known…"

Odin, though irate and yearning for retribution for the wrongs against his daughter, noted Laufey's words. "You have a realm to run, my daughter's health and wellbeing was not your paramount concern, that responsibility was your son's." He looked at Loki. "Do you think I have not noticed you have not upheld your promise to me, to better tend to my daughter? Do you think I have not noticed the manner in which you reference Aesir customs such as a royal woman having Ladies-in-waiting?" He walked over to Loki. "You have murdered my daughter in a cruel and heartless fashion with your neglect. I will bring this allegiance to an end not for your father's actions but because of yours. You are who I want to suffer, not Laufey."

Loki swallowed at Odin's words. Not because he feared the king. He was well trained in battle and he had youth and speed on his side but how the Allfather spoke, his manner of referencing Loki's failings as killing Ella. "She chose to remain here, I cannot be blamed for her choice. I have to tend to living beings that require attention." 

"Is she not a living being?" Odin bellowed. "Does she not have a heart beating in her chest? A soul within her? Feelings, thoughts, opinions, does she not have any of them in your mind?" 

Loki fell silent. 

Odin inhaled deeply. "Eir, what are her chances?" 

"Five per cent, perhaps ten with the shield and if her seidr continues to fight it but it could fail at any time." She answered. 

"What does she require?" 

"Food, rest and an act of the Norns." 

Odin rubbed his hand over his face. "The Soul forge…"

Eir shook her head. "Allfather, if we move her, she will die. If she went through the Bifrost, she will die. There is nothing for it but to have her tended to here if she has any hope." 

Odin walked over to the side of the bed and sat beside his daughter on a chair he created with his seidr. He put his hand in through the shield. "We can only wait and hope she fights it."

Eir gave a small smile. "So here we are again." 

Odin sighed. "So it would seem."

#loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #pride and prejudice #chapter 11 #wolfpawn

[wolfpawn]

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 11

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary -   Ella fights for her life while everyone else fights amongst themselves.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @damalseer @perpetual-fangirl @tinchentitri @inspired-snowflace @raphaelaisabella @alexakeyloveloki @caffiend-queen @devilbat @nonsensicalobsessions @skulliebythesea @majoringinlife

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Loki stood over his wife’s bed looking at her. He didn’t even know when she began to look ill. Could it have come on that suddenly? He had lain with her the night before. She had not made mention of being ill then. Though he had to admit she said nothing, but her body reacted to him as it usually did. He knew well by now how to make her feel pleasure, it made their coupling far easier and he had read that it encouraged fertility. She looked like death was all but imminent. He did not know how to feel.

His father came into the room. “Why is she in here?” He looked around. “Why is she still in here? Her belongings remain here, the smell would suggest she has been here all along. Loki, what is the meaning of this?”

“She lives here.”

“Why?” His father growled. Loki did not answer. “Why is she still in here?”

“She requested to return here on her wedding night and remained since,” He snarled. “This is entirely her choice.”

“When the Allfather hears this, he will feel his previous analysis was more than accurate. Whether she lives or dies, he could take the Casket again, it is bringing us to strength and now we will be without it and in war again, as well as the loss of her life.”

“The Allfather…” Loki began.

“The Allfather is on his way from Asgard and the likelihood is, he is coming to collect his daughter’s corpse,” Laufey bellowed. “It is war. As soon as he sees her, he will declare it. She is at the gates of Valhalla. What has happened to her?”

“I genuinely do not know.” It was entirely true, due to not caring to check on her, Loki had no inclination as to how she had gotten so sick.

“This is not something that has occurred suddenly, look at her appearance,” Arden interjected.

Laufey looked at Loki. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“In here, last night. We are trying to give the realm an heir, I came every other night to do so.”

“It would have been more useful to have her in the room with you.” He growled. “What was her demeanour last night?”

“The same as it always is.”

“And the last time such occurred in your supposed marriage bed, what then? Did she seem ill?” Loki said nothing. “What is going on here, Loki? You swore to the Allfather, to me, that you would do what you could to be a good husband to her, yet we stand here…”

“Sire?” Laufey turned to his guard. “The Head Healer of Asgard has arrived.”

“Norns be praised. Bring her in at once.” The guard left and a moment later, a woman entered. “Eir, daughter of Tyr.”

“King Laufey,” She curtsied. “I was told the…” She ceased talking and walked over to the bed, her gaze on Ella. “How…?”

“We are unsure. She entered the Throne Room today and collapsed.” Laufey stated.

For a moment, Eir said nothing as she looked over Ella. When she spoke again, her words were clearly chosen very carefully. “Your Majesty, this is not an illness of a mere day or so but of multiple weeks of neglect. I must ask for the truth and nothing but if I am to save her. If she is to die, then it would be kinder to do nothing but make her end as easy on her as possible.”

“Your oath…” Arden growled. “You are sworn to protect those of your care, to heal any who require it.”

“And to give comfort to those beyond my intervention.” She replied. “Princess Ella is all but in the halls of Valhalla at this moment.”

“Save her,” Laufey ordered. “Anything you require, no matter what the price, you use.”

Eir nodded before looking around. “The Allfather has called court to a close because of your messenger. He is preparing to travel. The Allmother is not available at present. She is currently in the Gardens of Tyrell on Alfheim, as you know, none can be contacted there.” She looked again. “If this is not some attempt to induce suffering but a genuine issue, I would suggest some manner of making it seem like she was not simply locked in here for the past month or more.” She suggested.

Catching her meaning, Laufey ordered the room be made more presentable. “How long do we have?”

“Ten minutes at most. He was ordering the stables ready Sleipnir on my leaving.”

Laufey became fearful. Odin usually only rode Sleipnir in battle. “We best rush this along so. Loki, open the windows slightly.”

“But…”

“NOW, BOY!”

Startled by his father speaking in such a manner, Loki did as his father instructed and tidied the room.

He had barely removed the simply cast aside bed pelts that were covered in his seed and simply pulled off the bed aside when the doors to the rooms burst open and Odin strode in, Gungnir in his hand. “Where is she?” He saw Eir working on his daughter. On seeing her, his eye filled with rage. “What has happened here?”

“Allfather, I need a health shield immediately before she succumbs to cold or illness,” Eir requested. Odin did as she asked without hesitation or moment of pause. “She is gravely ill, I am not sure if she will make it.”

Odin’s rage grew and he turned to Laufey. “I knew you could not be trusted, and to make her suffer, death will be too good for you.”

“None of this was done intentionally.” Laufey tried to placate. “She has chosen to remain here and not attend court for a long time."

"Do you expect me to believe Ella would ignore court, she loves court. The learning of the goings-on of the realm, she always loved it. She was not supposed to go to court until she was six hundred, she has been there officially since she was five hundred and only because she spent fifty years previous sneaking in. She rearranged her tutors to fit around court. You expect me to believe that with an entirely new one to learns the goings-on of, she would confine herself to her rooms like one in exile? Do you think me a fool?" Odin shook in rage. "No, Ella would never do so. Where are her Ladies, I want answers." No one answered him for a moment. "Well?"

"Jotunheim does not have such ridiculous roles. High born servants are nothing more than an insult to our people." Loki stated as he had to Ella previously, though slightly more politely.

"Ladies do not act as servants, that is what maids are for. Though Ladies assist with menial tasks like fixing a queen or Princess's hair and such, but their true purpose is to keep a woman who is not able to simply socialise company and to be her confidentes, not to serve her lunch." Odin snarled. "If she doesn't have Ladies, then where is her chambermaid?"

"There are no specific maids to her," Arden spoke warily, seeing Odin's rage rise as he did so.

"So my daughter has been living in isolation? That is what you are telling me? There is no way in the Nine Realms she would skip court if her private time is so isolated. She is a social creature, she loves speaking with others, it is where she is most content, that and hiding in nooks reading, usually everything she can about this damn realm and…" he stopped himself going any further, sensing his rage growing too much, so he inhaled deeply. "It is void, all agreements are void. Even if by some miracle, my daughter lives, everything we have agreed will be rendered obsolete. The marriage will be dissolved and she will return to Asgard, everything that was part of the marriage agreement will be removed also," He stated sadly.

Laufey looked at Ella and sighed. He then looked at Loki, who seemed to be in shock at what he was hearing.

When Loki looked into his father's eyes, he saw resignation. "Father…"

"I think it best if you say nothing now," Laufey growled before turning to face Odin. "I cannot force you to reconsider, Allfather, I only ask that you make it quick. I am too weak to fight and I would only embarrass myself if I did."

"Father…" Loki stepped forward.

"Do not involve yourself, Loki." Laufey turned to face Odin once more. "This was never what I wanted. I had so many wonderful plans for Jotunheim and your daughter was to be there for them. Every day since the wedding I saw her she asked for about the Casket and if it was healing the realm again. My plan was to bring her tomorrow to the first of the plants that are now thriving once more because of it. It has not grown in the thousand years since the Casket left yet it has returned. I wished for her to see such." He looked sadly at Ella, whose breathing was still harsh as Eir worked tirelessly on her. "Had I known…"

Odin, though irate and yearning for retribution for the wrongs against his daughter, noted Laufey's words. "You have a realm to run, my daughter's health and wellbeing was not your paramount concern, that responsibility was your son's." He looked at Loki. "Do you think I have not noticed you have not upheld your promise to me, to better tend to my daughter? Do you think I have not noticed the manner in which you reference Aesir customs such as a royal woman having Ladies-in-waiting?" He walked over to Loki. "You have murdered my daughter in a cruel and heartless fashion with your neglect. I will bring this allegiance to an end not for your father's actions but because of yours. You are who I want to suffer, not Laufey."

Loki swallowed at Odin's words. Not because he feared the king. He was well trained in battle and he had youth and speed on his side but how the Allfather spoke, his manner of referencing Loki's failings as killing Ella. "She chose to remain here, I cannot be blamed for her choice. I have to tend to living beings that require attention."

"Is she not a living being?" Odin bellowed. "Does she not have a heart beating in her chest? A soul within her? Feelings, thoughts, opinions, does she not have any of them in your mind?"

Loki fell silent.

Odin inhaled deeply. "Eir, what are her chances?"

"Five per cent, perhaps ten with the shield and if her seidr continues to fight it but it could fail at any time." She answered.

"What does she require?"

"Food, rest and an act of the Norns."

Odin rubbed his hand over his face. "The Soul forge…"

Eir shook her head. "Allfather, if we move her, she will die. If she went through the Bifrost, she will die. There is nothing for it but to have her tended to here if she has any hope."

Odin walked over to the side of the bed and sat beside his daughter on a chair he created with his seidr. He put his hand in through the shield. "We can only wait and hope she fights it."

Eir gave a small smile. "So here we are again."

Odin sighed. "So it would seem."

#Pride and Prejudice #chapter 11 #loki fic

[timeforelfnonsense]

D&D Charters’ Families

Here are my girls families for folks who like back story! * means the person has passed away.

Faunalyn Catrìona Amastacia  Fable:

Faeranduil Amastacia: Wood elf, father, adored Faunalyn/Fable  growing up but became distant due to pressure from his wife and legitimate child. He taught Fable the ways of the forest, how to speak to animals and use magic to grow plants. She has his golden eyes.

Shiera nee Xiloscient : High Elf, Step Mother, cruel and frigid Shiera has no love for her husband’s bastard and sees her an embarrassment, more because of her human blood rather than her illegitimacy.  Married Faeranduil when she was very young and what she would consider foolish. Her age has only made her grow more zealous in her beliefs and bitterness.

Dyanna: Elf, Older Half sister, a basic wicked step sister, beautiful and snobby. 76 years older than Fable. She's also a bit of an outsider among her own people, too posh for the wood elves not posh enough for the high elves. She could be redeemable and probs mirrors Fable in a lot of ways.

Colleen McTavish:Human Celtic Born mother, free spirited and wild, very much her daughter’s mother. A talented fortune teller and magician. A hippie, that parent who is a little too ok with everything. 

Maeve McTavish-MicKimmie: Aunt co-owns magic shop, slightly more responsible but only marginally than her younger sister. She was married for a time to a merchant from another city but he died of some form of fantasy illness. 

Hamish McKimmie: Teen Cousin, bookish, responsible, easily embarrassed, wants to be a wizard one day  

*Nanna Ceiteag “Kitty”: Maternal Grandmother: The daughter of her clans wise woman. Kitty traveled away from her family when she came of age. The mother of Maeve & Colleen, . High spirited rest of the women in her family.

Susan Dupree: Human Grandmother figure, has known fable all for almost all her life. Has been part of the Calypsos crew for years serves as Fable’s first mate. Gave her her first instrument and the name Fable.

Lady Nerida The Moon Touched of the house Arallath, 7th Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of The Tides

 *Her Royal Majesty the Queen, Lady Calliope The Beloved of the House Danuath, Daughter of King Havelock of Danua, Queen of Aralla, Lady of the Sea: Mother of Nerida and her sisters. A strong willed and fierce queen. Well loved by her people for her work aiding the common folk and efforts to establish stronger relationships with the surface. She passed shortly after her youngest daughter’s third year.

His Royal Majesty the King, Corus the Peaceful of the house Arallath, Third of his name, Protector of Aralla: A quite and gentle hearten king and doting father to Nerida and her sisters. King Corus’ line has protected Aralla sense his ancestor, Queen Neoma the Radiant  first came though to the martial plane. He is know for his love of history and his dedication to peace.   Sisters:

Her royal highness,The Ethereal Lady Nixie of the house Arallath, Crown Princess of Aralla,1st Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of The Sea: Nixie is the oldest of the seven royal sisters, inheriting the title of lady of the sea from her mother upon her passing as every crown princess/prince does. She is calm and responsible to a fault. She shares her Father’s love of history. 

 Her Royal Highness, Lady Neptune Treacherous of the house Arallath, 2nd Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of the Tempest: Neptune, the tempest is a fearless warrior and the second oldest of the royal sisters. Trained in a number of forms of combat, Neptune has spent her whole life preparing to protect her kingdom from elemental evil. She serves as her older sister’s royal protector.

Her royal highness Lady Noelani the Serene, 3rd Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of the Mists : Cryptic and wise Noelani serves her kingdom with her proficient visions.

Her royal highness Lady Nahla the Mesmerizing, 4th Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of Lady the Lagoon: Known for her beauty, Nahla has many suitors seeking her hand offering her father many allies. Nahla however is far from ready to settle down. Preferring to spend her days adventuring and making connections with the other Triton protectorates. 

 Her royal highness Lady Nerissa the Mystifying, 5th Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of the Trench: A skilled anarchist Nerissa’s skills in magic are reviled by few. Her royal highness Lady Nanami the Warm, 6th Daughter of King Corus Arallath protector of Aralla, Lady of the springs: Nanami has a keen mind for inventing has crafted many new exciting things that keep her city prosperous. 

Ingrid Soulkeeper

Ivarr LINDSTRÖM : Older than his sister by 15mins. Sworn to Tyr as a child he escaped the illness that took his family. He is now a paladin of Tyr seeking his sister who’s name he hears in whispers of fear.  He is a rule follower if ever there was one. Willing to give his own life in serves of those who can not protect themselves. A warm and kind fellow, he is well loved by his order. He has a soft spot for his wicked sister Ingrid 

*Siv LINDSTRÖM : Human father to Ivarr and Ingrid. Siv was a farmer and warrior for his northern village. A devoted follower of Tyr Siv taught his children the value of truth and justice from a young age.

*Dangmar: Aasimar mother to the twins. Dangmar passed on her celestial bloodline to her children. A fierce Valkyrie like warrior she met her husband when she saved his life on the battlefield. She taught her children of their celestial magics and their duty to serve the greater good.  

#lady nerida arallath #fable amastacia #ingrid soulkeeper #ivarr lindstrÖm #dnd ocs #dnd 5e #5e homebrew #dungons and dragons #backstory

[firesign23]

#Like Brienne's ending wasn't BAD#she's in a respected position at least#(though I do have issues with her taking that position for a bunch of reasons and feel free to ask for THAT rant) - Hi! Can we have that rant, please? :D

*cracks knuckles* So, first of all, none of this rant is going to be particularly new–the whole Brienne becomes Lord Commander of the Kingsguard has been rightfully pilloried since the episode aired. And I could take more time and do a better structured essay on the topic complete with rage-filled screaming, but y’all are just getting my mildly irate rant.

Brienne’s ending is… one of the better endings for women in the show, if you can divorce it from the other endings and probably all logic. Fuck yeah, my badass warrior goddess has been given one of the most respected positions in the realm. #grrrlpower(sponsoredbyWenchesWeekly) But that doesn’t make it good.

Celibacy – Let’s just start with this, because we all know it is coming. No woman, and especially an unconventional woman like Brienne, is allowed to have love in this world. And it’s really just a particularly blatant version of “Women are not allowed to have everything, they have to choose–love or career? ambition or family? etc” bullshit that has been not-so-subtly controlling our stories for decades. Brienne is a woman who loves, deeply, so naturally she takes a position that means she can have no husband or child, and puts her in an awkward position with the family she had found. (It might have just been me, but the Ser Podrick scene just felt… off) But even if we believe she doesn’t REALLY want love, or is just so super heartbroken over Jaime that she won’t love again, we have…

Duty to her house – Look, she’s the only child of a noble house. The books are more explicit about this “Marrying and producing an heir is her duty” element, but even the show points out that she is an only child. By becoming Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, she’s basically just went “LOL, entire island of people I have a responsibility towards, guess you’re out of luck.” Which… I mean, if it could be presented in such a way that it is clear she has to choose her own needs over duty, I’d be down for it. We don’t get any such indication. 

Duty to her previous vows – If we want her to be Lord Commander, why wouldn’t it be for Sansa, Queen of the North? The one she’s been sworn to protect for years? Or at least give us one damn line of Sansa and Brienne saying goodbye along the lines of “You have served me so well, Ser Brienne. Caring for my brother is the last duty you can perform for me.” Without it, the whole damn thing reads like “Here’s a shiny job for any generic knight, everything you promised is irrelevant.” Speaking of which…

Vows of a Knight – The last true knight of Westeros, the Ur-Knight of Myth and Song, has become a glorified bodyguard. It is prestigious, yes, but not particularly useful for holding up the vows she had been charged with, the vows she had wanted (and been living her life by) for YEARS. In a modern AU, this would be Pro Bono Lawyer Brienne taking a high flying job because they promise her she can do her pro-bono work three days a year. “But she wanted to be in Renly’s Kingsguard.” Yes, she did. AND THEN SHE HAD AN ENTIRE FUCKING CHARACTER ARC LEARNING ABOUT WHAT TRUE KNIGHTHOOD IS. 

Cost of the Role – She knows, better than anyone, how fucked up the Kingsguard can be. She saw the price it demanded of Jaime. She’s now serving a King who is not even completely human. But it’s a-ok because there’s a Very Important Role for her to serve in this narrative, that of…

The Silenced Biographer – Brienne’s final scene is her silently chronicling a (heavily sanitised, aka blatantly untrue) version of Jaime’s life, with no mention of her own role.  “Escaped imprisonment and rode south in an attempt to save the capital from destruction.” Fuck you, Dumb & Dumber. You want to make Jaime Lannister a sad little addict who definitely only cares for Cersei’s cooch? THEN YOU FUCKING OWN UP TO IT, NOT LEAVE BRIENNE TO GIVE HIM ABSOLUTION. It’s a beautifully acted and scored scene, but the script makes it abundantly clear that she’s just doing her duty, silent and lying. The price the Kingsguard demands is already being paid. Brienne of Tarth deserves better than to silently witness the fall of her own morality.

Any and all of these points would be fine alone. Or not FINE, but falling within the range of Ways I Expect Game of Thrones to Suck. I could even meta most of them away. But together? We are being asked to believe that Brienne of Tarth gave up her own vows and duties and desires in favour of someone else’s perception of glory, and I’m not having it.

#Brienne of Tarth #(and my heart) #GoT meta #I don't even go here #the writing's no good #(thank you Essie)

[three-houses-text-files]

dimitri/ingrid

c-a support + paired ending

c

Ingrid: Thank you for sparring with me, Your Highness. It seems despite how hard I've worked, I'm still no match for you. Dimitri: Oh, there's no need for such humility. Thanks to all of your hard work, you're improving rapidly. I: If you're going to praise me, it should at least be after I've won a match against you. D: You know, Ingrid... I may be the victor when we cross spears on foot like this... D: But on horseback, your handling of a lance is far superior. Can't I be allowed to have my own area of expertise? I: No, I cannot allow that. It's my duty to get stronger, to fight with all I have in defense of the Kingdom and its people. D: Such high stakes. By the way, where did you learn that fierce jab of yours? D: I’m pretty sure the only other person I've seen perform that move is Glenn... I: So, you recognized it? Yes, he shared much with me. D: I thought as much. I never imagined I would be on the receiving end of one of his techniques again. I: Glenn and I once studied under the same instructor. I've sparred with him more times than I can count. I: Ah, yes—he was never short on praise for you! I: "Lord Dimitri is incredible—such skill! There's no way I'll ever outmatch him!" Things of that sort. D: Well now! He never said any of that to me. I: Well, he was Felix's brother. That family's not big on displays of affection. D: That is true. We spent about as much time arguing as we did training. I: I can't believe it's been four years since the Tragedy of Duscur... Since we lost Glenn, along with so many others. (pre-skip) I: I can't believe it's been nine years since the Tragedy of Duscur... Since we lost Glenn, along with so many others. (post-skip) D: So it has. Time moves quickly. Things have changed so much. I: Despite the sorrow, I intend to become a powerful knight. A knight like yourself...and like Glenn. I: I will do so for the sake of my homeland, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and for all who have died protecting it. I: To that end...I hope you will spar with me again in the future, Your Highness. D: It would be my pleasure. After all, I value our training sessions as much as you do.

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b (i?)

D: Ingrid… I've been doing some thinking, and it occurs to me that I owe you an apology. I: What? Why do you seem so serious? D: In a just world, you would be happily married to Glenn. D: He…he truly loved you. And it's clear that you cared deeply for him as well. D: But on that awful night, he died right before my eyes. I could do nothing to prevent it. D: In a way, I'm responsible for you losing the joyous future that should have been yours. I know my words can change nothing, but... I'm so sorry, Ingrid. I: No, Your Highness. There's...there's no need to apologize. I: Glenn’s death... It still doesn't feel real. I: I always looked up to Glenn. He was the very picture of a perfect knight—noble and virtuous. I: In the end, he laid down his life—the ultimate sacrifice. I feel proud of him in ways that words can't quantify. D: Proud? Truly? I: That's right. I feel proud that he died for those he was sworn to protect. Proud that he passed from this realm to the next as a perfect knight. D: Are you really trying to turn his needless death into an ideal to uphold? Gah, you and he are so alike. I: Needless death? How can you say that? I: Glenn gave his life for you—for everyone—and this is how you speak of his sacrifice? D: You weren't there. You didn't witness his last moments. If you had, you wouldn't feel that way. I: I don't care to hear your interpretation of his final moments! He was and will always be an ideal knight! D: You would do well to rethink that ideal, my friend. I: Pardon me? I: He served in your guard! He took great pride in what he did—in protecting you! I: The very least you can do...is not spit on his memory! I: If you'll excuse me. D(?): What is the matter with me?

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b (ii?)

I: Your Highness. I've come to apologize. I: I mismanaged my feelings and got carried away. I've been thinking about what might have made you say the things you did... I: I was so caught up in the moment, and in my own feelings, that I didn't think of what yours might be. D: No… I should be the one to apologize. I did not intend to say such things. D: I lashed out like a child. You were right to rebuke me. D: I am disgusted by my own inability to express myself. Will you allow me to explain? I: Of course. D: At the Tragedy of Duscur, I saw countless corpses. Of course, I saw his too...Glenn's. D: Ingrid, I doubt you would have been able to see him. They were unable to bring his body back, after all. D: He must have died an agonizing death, full of pain and regret. That is what I saw in his face. I: … D: In that wasteland, there were no beautiful, proud deaths that could have been written about in heroic tales. Not one. D: I do not want you to die a death like that. Not even for the sake of loyalty or duty. I: A king must, at times, order his soldiers and knights to fight and die on his behalf. I: Their lives must be used for the greater good—this is something any good king understands innately. I: Any king who doesn't allow people to die on his behalf is too soft to rule well. D: You leave me little room for argument. Have I disappointed you? I: No. I chose to serve you because of how you are. I: As your knight, I will stand by your side and uphold your soft-hearted ideals. D: What has changed, Ingrid? You were so obstinate the other day... I: I've realized that I haven't been facing a very important truth. I: Because of you, I can finally move on. Thank you. D: Hm…

——————————————————————————————

a

D: Aha! Finally, you score a point against me on the ground. You have improved, Ingrid. I: That was nothing more than a fluke. My technique was horribly sloppy that last round. D: It does not matter what sort of technique it was. You won. If this had been a real battle, I would be dead. D: You wielded your lance well, without any hesitation. Has your approach changed? I: You may recall when I said I'm now able to move on. Because of you. D: I remember. What did you mean by it? I: That I finally understand a truth about Glenn... I: It sounds as though he died with a heavy heart— a heart that carried regret. I: I had suspected as much. But instead of acknowledging it, I twisted my memory of him to fit an ideal I've been upholding. D: I see... I: Your Highness. I will not sacrifice my life for anyone. I: But perhaps, instead, I can live my life for someone. I: I will pledge my life to you. D: And…how exactly am I meant to interpret that? I: However you please, Your Highness... D: Oh? Well then... D: Ingrid, when this is all over, I want you to— D: Um…to support and defend me. As my knight. D: I have been thinking of telling you this for a long time. We get along well, you and I. I: As your knight! Yes, yes of course! I: Of course I will. I intended to do so for your— For the sake of the Kingdom. I: Together, Your Highness. You and I. Our first order of business—putting this tragic war to an end! D: Yes. And while we're at it... D: Do not die on me, Ingrid. Promise me that. I: Yes, Your Highness. I swear it on my lance.

——————————————————————————————

paired ending

After his coronation, Dimitri assumed the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and spent his life ruling justly over Fódlan. At his side every step of the way was Ingrid, who left House Galatea to serve House Blaiddyd as a knight. As they worked together to restore the Kingdom, the pair fell in love and were eventually married. But while Ingrid was happy to play the role of queen, and to support her husband in public and in private, she insisted on taking up a weapon and serving on the front lines in battle.

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #dimitri x ingrid #ingrid x dimitri

[hyoubuscanonsoulmate]

Zettai Karen Children S/I - Azusa Hyoubu

Current ref sheet for my Zettai Karen Children S/I, Azusa aka Hyoubu’s Wife 🧛🏻‍♀️🦊. She now wears a kimono/yukata like outfit though I still kind of wanted to keep the vampire theme to it. She’s paired with Kyousuke Hyoubu!

Profile Under The Cut.

Azusa is an executive of P.A.N.D.R.A who serves as third in command. She’s also a Level 6 esper with umbrakinesis, hypnosis, metamorphosis, and teleportation.

During her first few appearances, she often took the form of a red fox who was often seen with Hyoubu until she revealed her true form.

Biographical Information

Name: Azusa Hyoubu (ZKC)

Nicknames:

Vampire (by Yō Fujiura)

Wannabe Vampire (by Kōichi Minamoto)

Darling Vampire (by Kyousuke Hyoubu)

Darling Wife (by Kyousuke Hyoubu)

Vampie (by Kyousuke Hyoubu)

Darling (by Kyousuke Hyoubu)

Archvampire (by Kyousuke Hyoubu)

Esper With Vampirism Tendencies

Kitsune (by some PANDRA members)

Foxy (by Kyousuke Hyoubu)

Alias:

Vampiric Esper

Sovereign of Darkness

The Silent Vampire

Sanguine Kitsune

Personal Information

Status: Alive

Age:

• 37 (Elementary Arc)

• 39 (Middle School Arc)

• 41 (High School Arc; Currently)

Birthday: July 30th, 1978

Gender: Female

Height: 5’4”/164 cm

Race:

• Level 6 Esper (ZKC)

Nationality:

• Japanese American

Hometown:

????, Japan

Occupation:

- P.A.N.D.R.A Executive (ZKC)

- Third of Command of P.A.N.D.R.A (ZKC)

- Leader of the The House of Bloodletting Foxes (formerly)

Appearance

Azusa is a short woman with a dark complexion, lean yet slightly muscular build, long dark brown hair with the bottom piece tied together by a red bow, and red eyes. Over her right eye, she appears to have a large scar. She often wears a half face mask and neck bandages to cover scars.

Despite appearing around her early 40s, she’s often mistaken to be a woman in her early 20s (ZKC).

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Red

Personality

Azusa is a woman with a suave, extroverted, enthusiastic, and confident personality. On the surface, she appears to be rather businesslike; smug; and polite character who is often seen smiling no matter what situation she’s in and sometimes does a greeting bow towards friend or foe.

She appears to have a soft spot for books and board games, with chess being her favorite one to play. She also seems to have rather sophisticated yet expensive taste in many things as she’s seen collecting very old typewriters, eating at formal dining restaurants, and buying rather refined clothing.

Azusa is also known to be rather sharp-witted, being very intelligent and capable of completing tasks in a practical manner.

Despite those things, being a member of P.A.N.D.R.A; Azusa is described to be rather dangerous. She is very sinister, bloodthirsty, and can be quite sadistic at times which she shows towards her foes as she isn’t afraid to shed blood with a wide grin on her face. Like Hyoubu, she tends to mask her saddened or angered emotions with a smile or confident smirk.

During battle, Azusa tends to tease or taunt her opponents and seems to boast a lot of self-confidence when fighting or when completing tasks to a point of arrogance. She’s also rather remorseless towards her enemies showing no qualms in hurting or killing those who stand in her or Hyoubu’s way.

She’s also quite cunning and tends to use rather ruthless methods to achieve her tasks. Azusa is also a very ambitious individual. She also appears to hold a strong grudge and disgust for humans due to her treatment by them in the past.

Despite these things, Azusa is kind and polite towards P.A.N.D.R.A, especially towards Hyoubu who she loves to bits and is very loving as well as caring towards him. She is also described to a loving and caring parental figure towards her kids and the Esper children who were taken in by P.A.N.D.R.A. Due to being rescued by Hyoubu around her early 20s, Azusa has sworn absolute loyalty to him.

Though usually confident, Azusa has also shown sadness and even fear/concern from time to time.

Aside from books, Azusa happens to take a strong interest in vampires and has a tendency to use her illusion ability to surround herself in bats, is obsessed with bats, drinks blood (though only from Hyoubu), can transform like a vampire, reads anything about vampires, and wears clothing that reminds her of vampires. Some find this endearing or strange. Her obsession with vampires and her ability has lead her to being called a ‘Vampire’ by Yō Fujiura and ‘Wannabe Vampire’ by Kōichi Minamoto. She also seems to take a strong interest in fox and kitsune lore.

Despite being able to speak, she rarely ever does towards anyone except Hyoubu, expressing that she only feels comfortable speaking towards him. Towards others, she often speaks through body expression/gestures, sign language, writing, and facial expressions.

In the past, before meeting Hyoubu and before becoming more open towards P.A.N.D.R.A; Azusa was described to be a lot more pessimistic. Thanks to help of Hyoubu and P.A.N.D.R.A, Azusa has opened up.

Likes:

✓ Books

 ✓ Reading

 ✓ Raspberry Lemonade

✓ Chess

 ✓ Knives

 ✓ Board Games

✓ Red Apples

✓ Bats

 ✓ Cello Rock

 ✓ Jazz Fusion

 ✓ Knife Throwing

 ✓ Blood

✓ Vampires

 ✓ Metal Music

✓ Writing

✓ Typewriters

 ✓ Fencing

 ✓ Vampires

 ✓ Sushi

 ✓ Foxes

 ✓ Kitsune

Dislikes:

✗ Most Candies

✗ Esper Discrimination

 ✗ Fried Food

✗ The Cold

✗ Daytime

✗ Snow

✗ Her Scars

 ✗ People Calling Her ’Wannabe Vampire’

 ✗ Math

 ✗ Non Espers/Humans

✗ Dogs

✗ Fox Hunting

Hobbies: Reading, Playing Board Games/Chess, Listening To Music, Writing, Researching Vampire Stuff, Doing Fencing, and Collecting Knives.

Background

At a young age, Azusa and her parents were victims of esper trafficking in Japan where she would eventually be bought in the Black Market by an unknown organization of normals who often used espers for their own personal gain and often treated espers inhumanely, often making espers their assassins and usually made their espers wear Limiters to suppress their powers. Azusa was valued by the organization due to her abilities and being a Level 6 esper which are the second highest level espers. However, she was treated poorly and only saw her as a tool of destruction. When they didn’t need her on certain missions, she often sported Limiters. Azusa disliked being treated by normals as nothing more than a mere tool.

On her 20th birthday, Azusa and her group of friends turns their back against the normal comprised organization and uses her abilities against them, killing many of the normal members in the process. She tells the espers within the organization that she is the Leader of The House of Bloodletting Foxes and their goal is rescue espers from humans, even if it meant killing humans in the process.

After Azusa’s escape, she and her group would eventually go into hiding while saving espers from humans where she and her friends would be caught up in an esper/normal conflict where she was nearly killed by normals and lost all of the Bloodletting Dogs members in the process until she was saved by Hyoubu and PANDRA, an organization comprising of only espers who offer her a home for only espers and dream of creating a world where espers will live with rights as well as freely. Hearing about Hyoubu’s offer and having nowhere else to go, she joins the organization and over time, grows very close to them and isn’t treated as a tool like the previous organization.

Future Azusa Predictions (ZKC Only)

1. Azusa is said to have sided with the espers who are fighting against humans, being responsible for countless deaths in the process. Even though not every esper is seen fighting against the humans, many of them are seen with Azusa.

2. Azusa supposedly watches over a small group of espers and supplies them with dangerous weapons.

3. While Azusa’s title known as the Sovereign of Darkness is not as well known as The Queen of Catastrophe (the now 20 year old Kaoru Akashi who supposedly had defected from Babel in the future and leads PANDRA due to Hyoubu’s worsening health conditions), her name is still feared upon by many for the blood shed she has caused.

4. By the war, Azusa has reached her mid forties (around 44-45 years old).

5. During the war’s initial stages, Azusa’s original parasol is destroyed and is seen with a new parasol instead.

6. It’s unknown whether Azusa survived or died in the war.

7. Due to her masks being destroyed, Azusa wears bandages over her eye. She also sports a different outfit.

8. Azusa kills Bullet Silver during an air raid.

Powers & Abilities 

* Umbrakinesis: Azusa is able to manipulate darkness/shadows. So far, she’s capable of animating  shadows, solidifying darkness/shadows into things; objects; and beings, create a kitsune-like monster out of shadows, infuse  darkness onto anything she touches, turn her body into darkness, create a darkness shield to temporarily protect herself; others; and objects in psychic darkness from telepathy/psychokinesis/ and psychometry, and manipulate matter with darkness and her shadow.

* Hypnosis: Azusa is shown to create and manipulate deceiving illusions that effect the five senses. Her illusions dissolve into swarms of bats when deactivated or attacked. It’s also shown that her illusions can be durable as they can take hits for a certain period of time before wearing off.

* Metamorphosis: Azusa can turn into a fox. It’s also shown she has a half fox form as well.

* Teleportation: Azusa is able to teleport herself, matter, and objects by using shadows/darkness as a catalyst.

* Parasol

Relationships

ZKC:

Kyousuke Hyoubu (Husband)

Yugiri (Adopted Daughter)

Rougarou Hyoubu (Daughter)

Unknown Parents (Status Unknown)

Fujiko Tsubomi (Half Sister-In-Law)

• Kyousuke Hyoubu | Love Interest | Good Terms

Azusa’s most dynamic relationship is with Kyousuke Hyoubu.

Both of them being a dynamic duo who love each other to bits. Being Hyoubu’s wife and a high ranking PANDRA executive, she’s very close; loving; and loyal towards him and tends to listen to his orders without question. She absolutely loves Hyoubu to bits and tends to worry about him a lot, especially when Hyoubu is injured, to the point if Hyoubu were to get hurt by an enemy; she’ll lash out at the person without mercy.

Both of them show to have a loving relationship as they often enjoy each other’s company, love to spend time together, work extremely well together, and are especially dedicated to each other.

Other than being a loving and dedicated couple, they are known to be a powerful partner in crime duo. Both work well when doing crimes and on the battlefield, where they’re shown to have synchronized fighting style.

Out of all the characters in Zettai Karen Children, Azusa has expressed that she only feels comfortable speaking towards Hyoubu. Due to being saved by Hyoubu from being killed, she has sworn absolute loyalty to him and is thankful for Hyoubu for saving her from her dark past. She also expresses a softer side towards Hyoubu.

Other

Voice Actress/Seiyuu: Atsuko Tanaka

Ship: Hyouzusa (Kyousuke Hyoubu x Azusa Hyoubu)

Theme Song: Evil by Mercyful Fate

Trivia

1. Azusa favorite foods are blood and sushi.

2. Azusa spends most of her time reading or playing chess with Hyoubu.

3. Azusa’s zodiac sign is Leo.

4. Azusa wears a mask to cover a scar over her right eye.

5. Azusa is skilled at writing and fencing while she isn’t very good at art and math.

6. Azusa owns an old fashioned typewriter with glass keys.

7. Azusa owns seven typewriters.

8. Azusa only feels comfortable taking her mask off around Hyoubu.

9. Azusa has a tendency to drink blood very often. (ZKC Only)

10. Even though one of her favorite foods is blood, she only likes to drink Hyoubu’s blood.

11. Azusa shares the same birthday as Kaoru Akashi.

#zettai karen children #s/i: foxy esper #hyoubu kyousuke #the unlimited hyoubu kyousuke #self insert #self ship #self shipping #self insert community #self insert art #self shipping community #self ship positivity #f/o community #selfshipping #fictional other #romantic f/o #villain s/i #villain f/o

[ironforgedrp]

♛   NICHOLAS LANNISTER

↳ details; male, 30, 476 AC. ↳ status; heterosexual, single, no children. ↳ face claim; Bradley James. ↳ hails from; Casterly Rock, the Westerlands. ↳ loyalty; House Lannister, The King, The Knight’s Code.

↳ title; Commander of the Lannister Armies, Lord of House Lannister of Casterly Rock. ↳ religion; Faith of the Seven (privately, atheist). ↳ spoken languages; the common tongue, bastard Valyrian, High Valyrian. ↳ reason for being in sunspear; to resume his duties as well as closely support his brother and King.

♛   PERSONALITY

↳ type; ISTJ-T (logistian). ↳ alignment; lawful neutral. ↳ star sign; leo. ↳ positives; loyal, forthright, honorable, intelligent, brave, disciplined. ↳ negatives; ruthless, detached, reckless, sarcastic, asocial, cynical.

♛  BIOGRAPHY

↳ family lineage.

Born in Casterly Rock to Lord Tristifer of House Lannister and Lady Alyson, made Nicholas the middle child; second right after Arryk, their father’s Golden Lion, and before Lysella, their family’s Golden Flower and the apple of their mother’s eyes. Though being the second son should have allowed Nicholas more freedom than what was granted to his brother, this was not the reality. From a very young age, Lord Tristifer showed him just how hard and difficult of a man he actually was. A man obsessed with raising House Lannister and upholding the pride of their House thought of both of his sons as assets; Arryk was the perfect heir, already groomed to their father’s liking, and that for Nicholas meant that he was destined to be more involved in other fields. On all accounts, Lord Tristifer had always been particularly cruel on Nicholas, for, from a remarkably young age, Nicholas showed exceptional talent in the art of the swordsmanship. From an early age, he seemed to be rather reckless and unhinged, and he would often wander outside the castle’s walls, seeking adventure, completely disregarding any potential threat the outside world held for a small child; a strong-willed, hard to bend young boy despite his father’s harsh treatment. He was sent away to the Lannister barracks to be trained as a soldier from the tender age of six, where he was exposed to danger, death, and injury far sooner than most children ever were; learning how to yield sword and bow,  dirks, hammers, short swords, and the cudgel. He was often sent to live amongst the wild in the forests with the troops, and sometimes on his own; every slight error was cruelly punished, leaving him out in the snow and rain to fend for himself, sometimes with no food, testing his willpower and mettle. But Nicholas was of strength immeasurable and possessed a fiery spirit. He persevered, proving himself a proper soldier time and time again; not of fear of the punishment, but out of the sheer will to not yield to whatever was thrown at him. It was not long before he was sent to train with the Golden Cloaks, joining them in battle and jousting tournaments around the capital. There, he became Squire to the Commander of the Royal Army himself, and he traveled with the troops, spending a couple of years on the Night’s Watch, fighting beyond the wall and undergoing many months of extensive (and expensive) training.

Even whilst training at the barracks, he was rarely home and he grew quite distant from his family. Always caring and worrying about them, but not really knowing them especially as the years passed with him seeing them no more than a couple of times a year. Even when allowed to be home, his father would always make sure to treat him not as a young lad, but as a knight in training, demanding of him no less than perfect discipline and dedication to the craft of war; for he was one day to command the Lannister armies himself, and there was no room for neither childish, foolish toyings, nor for affections that would soften his character. Any attempts of Lady Alyson to grow closer to her estranged son would be met by annoyance from her husband, and she would find her son no more interested either; Nicholas thought of them to be foolish and unnecessary, having become unaccustomed to such treatment. Though he cared deeply for his siblings, having not once received any sort of soft treatment from his father or built any sort of a relationship with him, and though he respected the man, he held no particular feelings for him, either. The only person that could ever truly soften his heart, was (and still somehow is) his little sister, Lysella.

Nicholas spent his years following his training on the battlefronts; always traveling, always fighting; a man forged from blood and iron, he has served the Lannister clan, and then, the crown, all his life, dedicating every minute of his existence to protecting the realm. During the Dothraki “invasion”, he remained vigilant and gallant, protecting the ruling Lord and the city fiercely; for his many accomplishments, he was granted Knighthood long before the moment his brother was crowned King. His travels and quest often found him at the Night’s Watch, where he spent quite a lot of time. It was there where news of his brother becoming King reached him. Though he was soon to congratulate his brother in person, he was gone just as quickly. And again it was away that news of Lord Tristifer’s passing reached him, but he did not rush to his family’s home. The weight of inheriting the title of Lord of Casterly Rock only then becoming apparent to him. However, news of Lady Alyson being appointed regent did not bother nor concern him at all; for Nicholas has never been groomed to fit into this role. Though well educated and skilled in politics, to fight wars was what he was meant for, not to rule his House. Regardless, he has maintained his position as Commander of the Lannister Armies and has been and service in his brother’s command ever since, protecting the realm to his best of his ability, bravely, selfishly; and even though he is a Lannister to the bone, he is religiously dedicated to the code of chivalry and honor his Knighthood demands and would willingly give his life to protect the weak and innocent. He follows his code closely, sworn to fight fairly and honorably and obey his lieges.

↳ personality.

Nicholas is powerful, and he knows it. He’s a true-born leader and is notoriously exceptional at all that he sets his mind to. A cruel but fair (in some ways) underboss, he protects the crown and the people and systematically destroys anyone who hurts them. He is the epitome of quiet power. He’s calculating and observant. Every action he takes is meticulously planned; every step he takes is accounted for; and every possibility is weighed; and thus, he has not once in his military career been on the losing side; however, in the throes of battle, he can be reckless; rough; his sword unforgiving, merciless. A beast of a fighter, Nicholas’ is cold in his interactions with people he holds no respect for; he loathes idle chats and believes them a waste of time. He is cynical and detached, difficult to approach. Prideful, and strong in body and spirit, he is dedicated to the Code, body and soul, and spends day and night working, hard, constantly, always on alert.

↳ the splitting of the kingdoms.

After the latest developments in the political scene and the Kings and Queens being called to Sunspear to attend the summit, Nicholas once again left his second in charge to withdraw to the Night’s Watch for a few weeks’ time before returning to join his family and support his brother and King. Being of Lannister blood, he deeply favors his brother being King and though latest developments have led to rather complex political schemes and developments, he remains in good faith of his brother being a capable King and leader, though that does not mean that should the need arise he will not take whatever action deemed necessary to ensure that both of his siblings, and nephew, won’t be harmed in any way.

  ♛     STATUS:  TAKEN

#cheryl. #house lannister. #taken. #taken male. #bradley james fc #westerlands.

[seventh-gravewarden]

"if it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?" Fighters are far from the most buoyant class, so naturally our DM flooded one of the dungeon rooms. I've never been so glad to have a high CON.

Briggs is terrified of being submerged in water. He can swim, but certain experiences have left him incredibly traumatized. Following the mysterious, violent death of Lord Lachdanan, the man he was sworn to protect and had spent his whole life serving, Briggs was detained and interrogated. Tortured, by people who claimed to be representing the Lachdannan House, thinking that perhaps Briggs had betrayed his oaths, or was otherwise complicit. They couldn't scar his face too badly, if he really was innocent such the scandal that would be. He wears gloves, gauntlets, long sleeves for a reason: to hide the scars from the torturers' knives and pins on his upper arms and torso, just short of flaying the skin. He has a brand scar on his lower back and a few swipes of the lash. The whipping wasn't bad, all things considered -- they didn't want to kill him, just enough to cause considerable pain when they hung him up by his wrists. When the physical pain didn't loosen his tongue, his captors turned to more creative methods. Briggs was waterboarded several times up to the brink of death. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, brought to the edge of death repeatedly, feeling the chill and the blackness settle in through the gray cloth over his eyes. It turned an indifference to the water into a soul-wrenching terror. He bears scars on his wrists and ankles where he struggled against the rough-woven sisal rope. They beat him again, pure blunt trauma, bruising, internal injuries, reopening the wounds on his back to bleed again as they trussed him up and left him to suffer awhile. But their methods failed: they couldn't break him. That was where the good Lady Lachdannan found him: her husband's most trusted guard and friend bloodied and beaten within an inch of death, suffering to protect his men. Suffering for something she is confident he didn't do. It was she who cut him down and gave him the chance to escape. All of these memories come flooding back as he started to succumb to the freezing cold water in the dungeon's puzzle chamber. As it turns out, the water was more meant to suspend the beings in place while a divine purifying spell resonated through the water. It was designed to prevent fiends and the impure of heart from entering the ritual room within. But it uhhh...broke my sweet cinnamon roll lol. Briggs had honestly been too okay, dealing with monsters and protecting his friends, confronting magical things that haven't been seen in the world for 50ish years. DM and I agreed they needed to see their tank's breaking point. >3

#d&d #readmore #drowning #whump #OC: Briggs