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goodqueenaly · 2 years

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If the theory that Dunk had a kid with Daella or Rhae is true, then the personal implications for Dunk are staggering (and for the other characters too, but Dunk’s the one I’m the most invested in as we know what kind of person he is and have an idea of how his life turns out). (TBC)

(Continuation) If their sexual relations were consensual, as I’m certain they would have been, he might not feel guilt that they happened, but Daella/Rhae is the one who’d have had to take the brunt of the consequences of their actions. If she got pregnant before marriage, she’d have had to face her father’s anger alone and get married off quickly. Admitting that he’s the father wouldn’t have helped and only would have resulted in his death. (TBC)

(Contination) If they’d slept together on the eve of her wedding, then they’d both wonder if her subsequent pregnancy was a result of their night together and there’d always be the chance that someone who doesn’t like her or wants to contest the succession might look at her adult child and remark that the only time they’d seen someone that tall was when that knight who was always hanging around the prince escorted their lady to Tarth. (TBC)

(Continuation) The kingsguard aren’t exactly anonymous and Dunk has a very striking physical trait. And, of course there’s the fact that Dunk now has a kid who will never know that he’s his dad. (TBC)

(Continuation) And there’s the fact that this was the result of a relationship between a knight of the Kingsguard and a Targ princess, which is most definitely taboo. Even if Dunk wasn’t part of the kingsguard at that point, how would he feel about wearing a white cloak in the future after what he did? And what would it mean for his friendship with Egg? Even if Egg was super understanding about all of this, Dunk still complicated his sister’s life a lot. (TBC)

(Continuation) And, even if Egg never finds out, would Dunk still feel guilty? I don’t know, I can’t stop thinking about this. What do you think? Do you think I’m making too much of it? (So sorry about the length of this, it was way longer than I thought it would be)

Oh no, I don't think you're making too much of this at all! Far from it, in fact - I would be frankly shocked if GRRM did not use this relationship as an opportunity to both continue Dunk's characterization (and Daella's!) and explore a number of themes he has already shown himself partial to in the main novels. (Long, more under the cut.)

As a beginning note, I think it is important to include details of my own theory about where the Dunk-Daella story is going as I talk about themes GRRM may explore, since that theory necessarily informs how I think GRRM will tackle the themes therein (and because I've somewhat changed my feelings on how the relationship will be portrayed over the years). I don't at all claim to be absolutely right or that GRRM will 100% do everything (or, indeed, anything) I suggest here, but this is my theory and I'm going with it.

So first, I tend to think that Dunk will get his white cloak during the Third Blackfyre Rebellion. Not only does this seem like a practical opportunity to do so - if the Third Blackfyre Rebellion was a major civil war, as it seems to have been, then there's a fairly decent chance that, as with other major Westerosi civil wars (e.g. the Dance of the Dragons, Robert's Rebellion), one or more Kingsguard knights might die - but I think Dunk receiving his cloak then could be a nice three-step payoff on his knighthood journey as paralleled in the Blackfyre Rebellions. Dunk's path to knighthood began during the First Blackfyre Rebellion, though he himself did not know it at the time, because Arlan's squire Roger died at the Redgrass Field; as Dunk thinks in "The Sworn Sword", had there never been a First Blackfyre Rebellion, "Roger of Pennytree might be alive today" as "a knight someplace, a truer knight than me", while Dunk "would have ended on the gallows, or been sent off to the Night's Watch to walk the Wall until I died". In the Second Blackfyre Rebellion, Dunk had been offered arguably the highest promotion a Westerosi knight can get, with Daemon the Younger Blackfyre revealing his prophetic vision of Dunk in a white cloak and suggesting Dunk become one of his Kingsguard knights; however, Dunk had refused, instead helping (albeit somewhat unwittingly) unravel the Blackfyre conspiracy. Now, in the Third Blackfyre Rebellion, Dunk could receive a true Kingsguard promotion, the ultimate acknowledgement of his (supposed) knighthood as well as his devotion to Egg, a prince and future king.

Already this is an interesting setup for a future romantic/sexual relationship between Dunk and Daella. Dunk had certainly idolized both knighthood in general and the Kingsguard in particular growing up (especially after being taken on by Ser Arlan), but he had also recognized that the Kingsguard swear themselves to celibacy; he had even teased Egg about the boy's goal of joining the Kingsguard, saying that "[t]hat's a noble thing, but when you're older you may find you'd sooner have a girl than a white cloak". Nor has Dunk been immune to a desire for both sexual relations and a romantic relationship: when Daemon the Younger offered him a place in his Kingsguard, Dunk thought that "I might find Tanselle again someday. Why shouldn't I have a wife, and sons?" (and indeed, he and Egg traveled the breadth of Dorne looking for Tanselle, without success), while his dreams about Rohanne Webber (both at Coldmoat and at Whitewalls) and his kiss with her at the end of "The Sworn Sword" convey his obvious desire for her. (Indeed, it is even possible that Dunk may have had some sexual experience by the time he fought in the Third Blackfyre Rebellion and, perhaps, got a white cloak, depending on how far that kiss Bran saw between Dunk and an unknown girl went, since the story for now called "The She-Wolves of Winterfell" will of course take place before the Third Blackfyre Rebellion.) Dunk may therefore struggle quite a bit internally before accepting a white cloak, balancing his honor at being selected to be among (at least ostensibly) the greatest knights in Westeros and his deep devotion to Egg with his personal desire to marry and father children (with Tanselle or anyone else). The author can potentially draw a very compelling thematic contrast here between Dunk and both Jon (whose deep shame at the (supposed) circumstances of his conception and birth help motivate him toward joining the similarly celibate Night's Watch) and Jaime (who joined the Kingsguard precisely because of his ongoing sexual relationship with Cersei, believing (somewhat incorrectly, at least at the time) that by doing so he could both avoid having to marry and have sex with Lysa Tully and could be by her, Cersei's, side at court permanently).

Shortly after the Third Blackfyre Rebellion ends, I think, Egg will marry Betha Blackwood in secret. The timing is already known - the Third Blackfyre Rebellion occurs in 219 AC, while Egg and Betha wed in 220 AC - and I would not at all be surprised if the experiences of the war and/or its aftermath prompted Egg to make his move. Perhaps Egg, having experience real battle for probably the first time, will feel that he had come too close to death to put off marrying his love, and will not want to take the chance that he might die without ever being with her; perhaps the royal government and/or Maekar, wanting to shore up a dynasty which was sorely lacking legitimate heirs of the next generation, will put pressure on Egg and Daeron to marry their respective fiancées (with Aerion perhaps being less a focus for dynastic propagation given his vaguely sinister "actions" during the war). Either way, I think that Egg will decide that he will wait no longer to marry Betha - and that Dunk, his closest companion, will help him do it.

Of course, I also think that Egg was betrothed to Daella (given his comment that his sister Rhae once poured a “love potion” in his drink “so I’d marry her instead of my sister Daella"), which will leave quite a problem for Daella. This is when I think Maekar and/or Aerys I's government may arrange a marriage for Daella, to smooth over the potential scandal of a royal princess being jilted by her similarly royal betrothed for a "mere" aristocrat, and turn to (presumably) Lord Tarth - because he is available, because he is willing (like, say, Eldon Estermont with young Sylva Santagar), because Maekar thinks it wise to shore up the realm's eastern defenses with a royal alliance with Tarth (after all, it had been Tarth that Myrish pirates had invaded during the reign of Jaehaerys I), for any or none of these reasons. In a patriarchal society, Daella may if not probably will have little to no say on her marital fate; her husband will be whomever her father and/or her uncle's government decide on for her. Importantly, I tend to think Maekar will decide to split up Dunk and Egg at this moment: since they had both defied him, but neither so much as to warrant severe punishment, perhaps Maekar will think it would be good for both of them to separately (emphasis on separately) remember what their respective responsibilities are - Egg with him as a dutiful royal son in the capital, Dunk with Daella as a Kingsguard sworn shield to a royal princess.

This is where I think the romance of Dunk and Daella comes in, and where GRRM could really start delving into some of his favorite ASOIAF themes. For one, GRRM loves playing with the tropes of chivalric romance, and I don't think you could get a more perfect setup for a chivalric romance than this story with Dunk and Daella. The relationship is one between a princess of much higher rank than her knight (and you don't get much greater a distance in rank than from daughter of the king or soon-to-be king and a knight born in the slums of Flea Bottom - among the reasons I don't think they married) and a dashing, valorous knight in service to her. Like the story of Tristan and Isolde, Dunk is sent to escort this princess to her betrothed (not from the Emerald Isle of Ireland to the mainland, as in the tale, but from the mainland to the Sapphire Isle of Tarth). Their love is adulterous and impossible, but, perhaps, continues because of its devotion and passion, trapping the three (Daella, Dunk, and Lord Tarth) in a doomed triangle of love and service: Daella is wed to Lord Tarth but loves Dunk, Dunk has pledged himself to the service of Daella as Lady Tarth (and so by extension her lord husband) while engaging in a sexual relationship with his bride, and Lord Tarth, perhaps, cares for Daella and/or Dunk (at least with the latter, Evenfall Hall hung onto Dunk's shield into the present day, suggesting some ending on good terms between Dunk and House Tarth) while having both engage in an affair with one another in his home. This is a unique chance for GRRM to tell the story of the chivalric romance from the point of view of the knight-protagonist; instead of observing the tropes from a distance (as with, say, the story of Rhaegar and Lyanna) or altering the conventions (as with, say, Brienne, whose story embodies some chivalric romance tropes while twisting others), we can be inside the knight's head as he engages in this doomed affair with his lady love.

For another, GRRM also adores exploring the theme of duty versus love, as well as (and sometimes relatedly) forcing characters to choose between competing, mutually exclusive vows and/or responsibilities. Indeed, Aemon's own theory as to why the Night's Watch (on whose vows those of the Kingsguard were modeled) forbids its members from taking wives or fathering children directly cites the danger of love as a force to tempt men away from their duty (which is why I tend to think Aemon's unknown first trial had to do with falling in love but rejecting this love in favor of his maester's vows). Dunk would have just taken his vows of the Kingsguard, knowing that by doing so he would be obliged to live a celibate life; how could he then break that vow, and with no less than the king's (or soon-to-be king's) own daughter? Would he remember the Kingsguard before him who did the same - not only the historical examples of Lucamore Strong (who had been gelded and sent to the Wall for his simultaneous sexual affairs) and Criston Cole (who had (at least by some tellings) begged Princess Rhaenyra to engage in an affair with him), but the more recent (for Dunk) stories of Terence Toyne (who had been killed by the orders of Aegon IV for sleeping with Bethany Bracken, herself executed) and Aemon the Dragonknight (who among Blackfyre loyalists was the true father of Daeron "Falseborn", the propaganda Dunk had heard firsthand from Eustace Osgrey)? Yet could he ignore the love of Egg's own sister for him when he himself had just assisted Egg in marrying for love? What could he say to Daella - "yes, I helped Egg break his betrothal promise to you for the sake of his love for Betha, but no, I will not help you break your promise of marriage to Lord Tarth when you are in love with me?" Between the love of Daella for Dunk - a mutual one, I would guess - and the duty he had sworn to as a new-made Kingsguard, which one would win out in Dunk's heart? (No prizes for guessing, given Brienne's existence, after all.) With the way GRRM has written on this theme before - look at Jon's emotional struggle over his relationship with Ygritte, or Arys Oakheart's shame over his affair with Arianne - I fully expect he'd take the chance to delve into it again with Dunk - only this time a true knight (unlike reprehensible Arys) really emotionally invested in the other person, kept from a publicly legitimate relationship with her by vows they both would have been aware of (without the added secrecy of Jon's Night's Watch mission, which he of course could not reveal to Ygritte).

Nor does GRRM ignore the theme of secret keeping in his writing, characters hiding the truth even from those closest to the secret keepers for the sake of the secrets' beneficiaries. Indeed, this is at the very heart of Dunk's story: Dunk has repeatedly, deliberately concealed the fact that Ser Arlan never actually knighted him, falsely claiming the public distinction of knighthood while living the spirit and principles of true knighthood. While I don't tend to think it will be obvious that Daella's child was fathered by Dunk - again, Brienne is a direct descendant of Dunk without apparently knowing it, and no one has yet called the current Tarths bastards or cited any illegitimate ancestry - I do think that both Daella and Dunk will be aware that this is their child, and not the child of Lord Tarth. Both would now have a secret to keep from the world: to preserve both their lives and the life of their child, they could never let the world know that this was, in fact, a child born of a passionate affair between them. Consider Ned's emotional turmoil over the secret of Jon - how much it pained him to keep this from Catelyn while recognizing the necessity of doing so, and how Catelyn in turn suffered because of Ned's bullying over her asking him about it and his subsequent silence on the matter, and I think you might get an idea of how the internal struggle could go for Dunk. Just as Ned (I think correctly) decided that telling Catelyn would put Catelyn in the impossible position of deciding between abetting Ned's treason by shielding Jon or denouncing the treason (and thus consigning both Jon and Ned to death) to protect her children, so Dunk may think that telling Egg would put Egg in an impossible position: either Egg would have to denounce Dunk - and so watch his friend be gelded and sent to the Wall, his sister be perhaps forced into religious seclusion (if not herself in danger of being executed for a politically dangerous form of adultery), and his baby nephew (I tend to assume nephew) being declared a bastard, with at best an uncertain future - or he would need to protect his friend's scandalous, indeed criminal conduct, putting himself in danger should it be revealed that he knew about it. Dunk did not romantically love Egg as Ned and Catelyn loved each other, but theirs was clearly a long and deep friendship, so I'm sure GRRM could have a field day with twisting the screws on that friendship, the secret Dunk could never reveal for the sake of their closeness.

On top of all of this, moreover, is the child himself (and again, I tend to assume their child would be a boy because patriarchal Westeros is going to patriarchy and the typical (non-Dornish) Westerosi power structure goes from males, through males, to males). Dunk had, after all, thought of sons as well as a wife in turning down Daemon, and Aemon had asked Jon, in the context of their conversation on duty versus love, "What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms[?]". Likewise, while he had never known his own parents - guessing that his mother had been "some whore or tavern girl" whom his birth had killed and his father "some thief or cutpurse" who had been hanged or sent to the Wall - Dunk had nevertheless romanticized finding his father, begging to go north with Ser Arlan because if he "could only reach the Wall, might be I'd come on some old man, a real tall man who looked like me". How would Dunk feel, then, to know that he had fathered a child, to know that a child had been born out of love between himself and Daella - and yet know that he could never hold this child, nor claim him as his own, if he wanted him, Daella, and the child to keep their necks? While the circumstances of his child's birth could not have been more different than Dunk's own - born the child of a great knight and a princess, in an ancient castle, with the name of a supremely blue-blooded family - Dunk would be condemning this child to grow up as he had grown up, never knowing his father nor ever being able to find him. Think of the way GRRM has explored this topic with Jaime - how throughout the end of ASOS and in AFFC Jaime is grappling with his complete lack of paternal relationship with his own children, thanks in part to the circumstances of their conception and upbringing - and I think there might be an idea of how the author will tackle this from Dunk's point of view. To protect his child, Dunk could never call him his child; whatever love he bore for him would always have to be secret, but it could never be erased completely (no more than Ned's love for Jon, despite publicly proclaiming the opposite of Dunk - that is, that this boy, actually no son of his, was his bastard).

(The child's conception and birth also brings up the question of bastardy, although that may be a less pressing point. After all, Dunk took a rather calm view of his own probably bastardy - coolly explaining, when Egg haughtily parroted Westerosi aristocratic an religious prejudices against bastards, how he himself had likely been born out of wedlock - which may in turn leave him less concerned about his child's legal illegitimacy. Still, it's entirely possible that Dunk would have lingering feelings of guilt over this child, less because of social prejudice against bastards and more because of his part in interrupting the Tarth dynasty. Dunk had both witnessed and participated in the ongoing aftermath of Aegon IV's fathering many bastards, "the bane of the Seven Kingdoms" as Dunk thinks; now he himself was helping father a bastard for House Tarth, to claim the family title without right to it.)

Now, of course, the classic (consummated) chivalric romance is a doomed one, which does not promise happiness for either Dunk or Daella in the scenario I've envisioned. Because Dunk lived to an old (by Westerosi standards) age and only died at Summerhall, still apparently an honored member and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, we can guess he didn't succumb to any of the horrible and/or tragic fates usually awaiting the knights of chivalric romance. Less can be said about Daella, because she doesn't so much disappear from the narrative as is barely in it to begin with; what happens to her is as mysterious as any other part she has to play in the story. (This is not an invitation for GRRM to kill her off in childbirth, which he often likes to do as an easy answer for getting rid of female characters.) It therefore seems unlikely that GRRM will follow specific beats of some of the more famous chivalric romances for their fates (no attempted burning at the stake for Daella, then, and no death by grief for Dunk). So I tend to think the separation will be less dramatic and more personal, with one or both of them realizing that they cannot be together forever, either on their own or through external circumstances (like, say, Dunk being recalled to the capital). Perhaps it will be something along the lines of, say, the ending of "The Sworn Sword", the most romantic so far of the Tales, with both parties desiring to be with each other but aware of the impassable gulf of rank and position between them.

So all of this is to say that there is a lot here for GRRM to explore in terms of theme and characterization. As @warsofasoiaf has correctly noted, GRRM seems to enjoy using the individual Tales as his takes on specific pieces or genres ("The Hedge Knight" as a sort of medieval tournament fantasy a la Ivanhoe, "The Sworn Sword" as a Western, "The Mystery Knight" as a sort of crime thriller a la North by Northwest; I could also see "The Village Hero" being a sort of riff on Seven Samurai/The Magnificent Seven, though I haven't yet decided what genre whatever "The She-Wolves of Winterfell" will be called will be). It makes sense to me, therefore, that one of these stories would be his take on a chivalric romance in the style of Tristan and Isolde or Lancelot and Guinevere, with all (or many) of the trappings of the genre but told through the uniquely personal touch GRRM's masterful handling of POV style provides.

#asoiaf meta #speculation #tales of dunk and egg #duncan the tall #daella daughter of maekar #tarth targaryen theory

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tomakeitbeautifultolive · 3 years

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Something I've been wondering about: If Jon comes back as a fire wight like Beric Dondarrion and unCat, will he be able to get it up? Blood won't really be flowing in his body anymore, so would his dick be powered by fire magic or something like that?

I, too, have spent a great deal of time pondering Jon Snow’s dick, Anon. 😏 Jokes aside, I will admit right off the bat that most of what I have to offer is total speculation, but over-thinking the most minor details of ASOIAF happens to be my favorite pastime, so let’s go!

Like pretty much everyone who read the quote, I was totally thrown off by the “fire wight” revelation. Here’s the quote for reference:

“..poor Beric Dondarrion, who was set up as the foreshadowing of all this, every time he’s a little less Beric. His memories are fading, he’s got all these scars, he’s becoming more and more physically hideous, because he’s not a living human being anymore. His heart isn’t beating, his blood isn’t flowing in his veins, he’s a wight, but a wight animated by fire instead of by ice.”

So, an important distinction to make here is that this quote is about Beric Dondarrion specifically, not Jon Snow.

The condition of Jon Snow’s corpse might matter

George can be very clever with how he words things. Note that he goes into Beric’s deaths, describing multiple resurrections and how he’s falling apart before stating that his heart is no longer beating. It could be that a fresh “fire wight” might still possess bodily functions—at least at first. Catelyn, too, was a very sorry looking corpse by the time she was reanimated, therefore not a great comparison, either. Especially since it’s Beric rather than Thoros who, with very little life force to lend, resurrects her.

If nothing else, Jon will be “fresh”, and his location at the Wall means the low temperatures will help preserve his body even if the resurrection takes some time.

And speaking of the Wall… there happens to be a special lady there who could help Jon, and whose powers happen to be amplified by the magic of the Wall...

Melisandre is profoundly more powerful than Thoros of Myr

Thoros may be a red priest, but otherwise he seems to be a pretty normal human man. We get a clue about when he converted from Jaime:

“Jaime had once heard Thoros tell the king that he became a red priest because the robes hid the winestains so well.”

Relatively recently, one might guess, as most children aren’t yet drunks. Further, he was never very dedicated to his faith, even questioning it at times.

Melisandre, on the other hand...

“Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price. There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames.”

While we don’t know much about her, this confirms that she spent countless years studying her craft, and no one in her order can match her skill. And no one believes in their faith more than Melisandre. Like in the television series, it’s a safe bet that she’s actually much older than the natural human lifespan, particularly if she managed to lose count of how many years she’s studied magic.

If Melisandre is the one to resurrect Jon Snow, she might not use a ‘last kiss’ method at all, or, if she does, it could be more powerful than anything Thoros is capable of.

Unlike Beric, Jon Snow is probably the prophesied prince

Speaking of Melisandre’s ability to glimpse secrets in the flames… there’s someone she sure seems to see a lot of:

“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.”

“Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow.”

“The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange.”

I know. There is some contention about who the Prince that was Promised is. Regardless of whether you agree that it’s Jon Snow, you’ve got to admit that Melisandre is seeing him in the flames for a reason. And if he’s not the prophesied prince, then perhaps his blood has something to do with it. It’s likely that, for some reason, the combination of Targaryen and Stark blood matters. At least, Rhaegar Targaryen seemed pretty convinced...

Whatever Jon Snow’s business is in Westeros… it’s unfinished. And part of that unfinished business might just involve becoming a father.

The emphasis put on Jon fathering a child is notable

Let’s go back to Jon’s first chapter ever. It opens with Jon at Robert’s feast, the author uses Jon’s eyes to describe the setting and multiple characters. And then enters Benjen Stark. This is when we really get to know Jon. When you read this passage, really consider the author’s intent here:

"You don't know what you're asking, Jon. The Night's Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor."

"A bastard can have honor too," Jon said. "I am ready to swear your oath."

"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

"I don't care about that!" Jon said hotly.

"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen said. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son."

Jon felt anger rise inside him. "I'm not your son!"

Benjen Stark stood up. "More's the pity." He put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Come back to me after you've fathered a few bastards of your own, and we'll see how you feel."

Jon trembled. "I will never father a bastard," he said carefully. "Never!" He spat it out like venom.

Suddenly he realized that the table had fallen silent, and they were all looking at him. He felt the tears begin to well behind his eyes.

This is how George R.R. Martin chooses to introduce us to Jon Snow. And gods, that always hits me right in the gut. It’s absolutely supposed to. Jon’s trembling, venomous anger is palpable. You feel the deep hurt and resentment in his words, right down to his core. Jon says he doesn’t care—but the bite in his words and the tears welling in his eyes tell us otherwise.

Jon Snow easily embraces his vow of celibacy. At first. And then comes Ygritte. And after getting his first taste of love and later flirting with the idea of becoming a lord when it’s offered to him by Stannis, Jon Snow begins to imagine what it might be like to have a wife...

“I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall.”

And look what happens the moment he does dare to dream of it...

“I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.”

And the feeling transitions into an almost tangible hunger felt by his wolf, Ghost.

Speaking of Ghost…

Grab your tinfoil! ‘Cause Jon’s life might’ve already been ‘paid for’ ...By Daenerys

First… in case you didn’t know, Daenerys is probably a skinchanger:

“The slightest pressure with her legs, the lightest touch on the reins, and the filly responded. As she turned to ride back, a firepit loomed ahead, directly in her path. A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.”

Basically, it goes like this:

As Daenerys wanders the Dothraki Sea in search of food after being whisked away by Drogon, she hears a wolf’s howl.

“Will (Ghost) howl for me when I'm dead, as Bran's wolf howled when he fell?”

Feeling lonely yet no less hungry, she eats some strange green berries. Her stomach begins to cramp.

“My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb.”

Unfortunately, Daenerys then experiences some horrible diarrhea. Poor girl! I don’t bring it up to be crass, but because this purge bears striking resemblance to an earthly drug called Ayahuasca—a substance that, aside from emptying your bowels, is often used as a means to ‘open your third eye’ (Just as Bran does in the crypts, and he can finally reach Jon and Ghost…)

Dany falls asleep and begins experiencing trippy dreams about her brother—perhaps even achieving contact with the other side? Then...

“When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.”

Assuming it’s nothing more than her period, Dany begins to wonder the last time she bled—hinting that it might’ve been a little while.

“The sight of so much red frightened her. Moon blood, it's only my moon blood, but she did not remember ever having such a heavy flow.”

Maybe a bit of a stretch, I know. But… this wretched and graphic scene of Dany’s loose bowels really made me wonder what in seven hells George was thinking. I was so embarrassed for Dany that I HAD to figure out why he’d do this to her.

And my best guess is that she’s using these latent skinchanging abilities to tap into this strange connection with the “blue rose” over at the Wall of Westeros and the silent wolf who finally howled for help upon his death… And so, Dany’s miscarriage may be the death that will pay for Jon’s life.

I might’ve found some more evidence to back this claim up, this is very new ‘evidence’, so bear with me:

“Fire”, in the world of ASOIAF, often translates to “life”. As is seen here in Sam’s speech following Aemon’s death (thanks, bridge4!):

“He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out.”

Further, according to the wiki:

“When a follower of the Lord of Light dies, priests fill their mouths with fire and breathe flame into the deceased”

In the House of the Undying, Dany receives a series of chilling prophecies, one of which happens to be about fires:

“Three fires you must light, one for life, one for death and one to love”

I know, I know. Drogo’s pyre, the Khals, etc etc. But George might be playing with double meanings here… So, if we think of fires as conceptions, this could maybe mean:

One in exchange FOR the Dragon’s lives (Life)

One in exchange FOR Jon’s resurrection (Death)

One conceived (likely with Jon) and carried to term (TO love)

Food for thought! Especially considering that, like Jon, Dany possesses the blood of Old Valyria, and these sacrifices are probably all the more powerful as a result. But even if I’m dead wrong about that prophecy, well, fire still broadly means life, which bodes well for our brooding ‘bastard’, who might just end up as a “fire wight”.

Hopefully something in this drivel has given any Jon fans reading this a little bit of faith that, despite the slight setback of death, Jon will still be able to exercise his, uh, virility when he finally meets Dany. 😅 Thanks for the ask!!

#answered #jon snow #fire wight #resurrection #jonerys #asoiaf theories #asoiaf speculation #my theories #loving the asks since I can't do much else while recovering #keep 'em coming if you got 'em!

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arctickat2400 · 3 years

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Bite <> Damon Salvatore

“Damon, he’s your brother. How could you not go?” I argue with Damon.

“Y/N, how could you think he’s still alive? And it’s too dangerous. You’re not going.” Damon demanded.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” I yelled at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh, really?” Damon shouts, speeding up to me and getting all up in my face. He sets his hands on my shoulders and stares me in the eyes.

“Y/N, you will not go.” He says, his pupils dilating. I know what he was trying to do. He was trying to compel me. Too bad for him, it’s not gonna work.

“Fine,” I finally let it go. “But, I’m not going because you compelled me to. I’m wearing vervain, remember?” I said, not looking for an answer as I walk out the door of the Salvatore house.

A few minutes later, I arrive at Ric’s house. Since Damon won’t go, then I have to try Ric.

“Ric, please. Stefan is one of your best friends. We have to go get him.” I argue to him.

“He is, but like Damon said, it’s too dangerous. And I’m not going just because Damon said so. You could get seriously hurt out there and there’s no way for me to help you. So, no.” Of course, he’s on Damon’s side.

“Ugh!” I scream, running out the door.

Ric was like a father to me. I’ve never really had one, and when I met Ric, we connected and we bonded. For years now, he’s been there for me almost as much as Damon’s been there for me.

If no one would help me, then I decided to go by myself.

I drive to the edge of the woods, parking my car and jumping out.

It was already pitch black out, the only light being the stars.

I walk for miles, a few hours later and I have this gut feeling that someone, or something, is watching me.

I dig my hands into my pockets. It’s pretty cold being the middle of the night.

I looked up to the sky and I noticed something. The moon. It was full.

Great. A full moon. I was now standing in werewolf territory during a full moon.

I’m such an idiot.

I turned around, and, as I walk, all of a sudden, I heard howling.

I come to a run, running through the woods towards where my car was parked.

I heard another howl and it sounded closer. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

I looked behind me, thinking something was there. But, as I looked forward again, I tripped on a tree root that stuck up above the ground.

I fell to the ground, now sobbing, wishing Damon was here.

I tried turning onto my back, but as I did, a huge wolf jumped on top of me, pinning me down to the ground.

I screamed out in pain as it bit my stomach, scratching at my face and arms.

I screamed out, yelling, “Help Me!”

Next thing I know, the wolf was thrown off of me, hitting a tree a few feet away and running off at the sound of maybe a dozen other howls.

“Y/N, what have you done?” I couldn’t see anything, everything was so blurry. BUt, the voice kind of sounded like Damon.

“Help me!” I screamed again.

I opened my eyes and saw Damon biting into his wrist, bringing it to my lips, making drink his blood to heal me.

I felt myself being picked up off the ground, and into the safe embrace that is the one I love.

I never told Damon I loved him. I didn’t think he loved me back. He’s my best friend and I thought that if I told him, it would ruin everything.

“You’re going to be okay, Y/N. Just stay with me.”

The pain was unbearable. It was too much to handle. I couldn’t stay awake.

Everything went black.

* * *

I slowly opened my eyes, feeling around. I woke up in a bed, but it wasn’t mine.

It was the bed I always felt the most comfortable in. Damon’s.

I sat up, whimpering as the pain in my stomach radiated through my body.

I lifted my shirt and saw the bite that was giving me so much pain.

The bite hasn’t healed yet, unlike the other scratches on my body which just left barely visible scars that will go away later.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, walking through the hall. I looked around the room, meeting the blue eyes of Damon Salvatore.

“Hey, Y/N. You feeling okay?” He asks me calmly, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed.

“I guess. It really hurts, though.” I nodded.

“Lay down.” Damon demanded, gently laying me back down onto the bed.

He lifted my shirt, checking on the bite. He guided his hand over my stomach, almost making me hiss in pain. But, it also felt good.

“It’s healing, but not as fast as your other wounds healed.” Damon explained, keeping my shirt up so nothing would happen to the wound.

We sat in silence as I lay on the bed. Damon, then, looks down at me.

“What were you thinking?” He said, almost in a whisper.

“I wanted to go save Stefan. But, no one would help me. So, I went alone.” I told him, turning away from him.

“Y/N, I told you it was dangerous. Yet you went anyways. I told you that you wouldn’t be able to find him. Yet you went anyways. And on a full moon. Y/N, how can you be so stupid?!” He was yelling now, standing in front of me.

I sat up, trying to hold back my tears of pain.

“Stupid? How could you call me that? I was trying to save my friend and your brother. You didn’t even try to find him. So, I went out and tried to find him myself. Don’t ever call me stupid! Why does it even matter to you? You don’t even care about me.” I yelled at first, but it died down to a whisper. There wasn’t just tears of pain anymore, but tears of sadness and regret.

“Y/N, why would you say that? Of course, I care about you! I care about you more than anyone in the whole world! If I didn’t care about you, why would I try to stop you from going? If I didn’t care about you, why was it me that comes to your rescue every single time your ass is in trouble? Why was it me that came to your rescue tonight? Why was it me that risked giving you my blood? Y/N, I care about you with every part of my being! I may not be the best guy for you or have a heart of gold, but I will always be there for you! So, don‘t you ever tell me that I don’t care about you ‘cause I do!” Damon exclaimed. I was quiet now.

“Why?” I questioned, confused and some other emotion that I’ve never experienced before.

“Because I love you!” Damon yelled at me. I was breathless, as if my lungs just shut down completely.

“What?” I said, under my breath.

“Y/N, you’re the reason I’m always there. The reason that I care about you is because I love you.” He was sitting down next to me again, holding my hand in his as we stared into each other’s eyes, tears in mine.

“You wonder why I’m always there, why I’m always looking after you and why I care so much about your safety and everything about you. It’s ‘cause I love you. I always have and I always will. Nothing will change that. Till the day I take my last breath on this earth, I will love you.”

“I love you, too, Damon. I’m so sorry.” I leaned in and wrapped my arms around his neck as he brought me onto his lap, holding me tightly to his chest.

He pulled away, slightly, so he could look at me. He looked into my eyes, stroking my hair as I looked into his.

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, our lips moving together in perfect sync.

“I love you, so much, Y/N. Promise me to never put yourself in any danger ever again.” Damon asked as if it was his only wish. He pulled me back into his embrace.

“I promise.” I cried softly into his chest.

* * *

I'm going to start doing tags so if you want to be tagged for my stories, let me know who for or if you want to be tagged for them all. I've never done tags before, so I'm not really sure how they work but I will try to do them for my stories now.

@elenavampire21

#damon salvatore #damon x reader #damon salvatore imagines #fluff #angst

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charliedawn · 3 years

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Imagine being a corrector (someone there to erase mistakes) and witness Iron Man's progress throughout his life to judge him on his final moment.

" And how many people will die from this impressive weapon ?"

You asked and Tony smiled widely at your question, as if he had impatiently expected it.

" Hundreds ! With only one big boom, all of America's enemies will be annihilated !"

Stop smiling, you dirtbag. You are selling this as if it was a party cake. You're going to sell a weapon of massive destruction to the US army that will exterminate hundreds of people in a few seconds with it and you can still look at me dead in the eyes with this repulsive self-absorbed smile..You thought and sighed before looking at the paper in your hand where was written in bold letters.

TONY STARK : SAVE/ERASE?

You looked at him and his stupid smile again, wondering if you should erase his existence. It was your job after all, to erase everything and everyone that may be nocive for the world, or that may end up being a problem..Mistakes could happen of course, but taking a life was always hard, no matter how you looked at it. Now, Tony Stark..He was a difficult case. He was an idiot, there was no doubt in your head about that..but, he also had potential..If given the right opportunity, he could even be great. You decided to take a step back and looked at his file. You could give him a bit of time..You had loads of time to watch him and his every move. You wanted a change. And would spare his life, for now. You stepped back into the shadows and disappeared as Tony Stark entered a nearby black car.

A few years later :

Why ?

Why did you save that idiot ? You ask yourself while watching him snap his fingers. Your wide eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing. You had given this man so many choices and chances..All that for that. What a disappointment..! You sigh before walking towards the now floating soul of Tony Stark, still in his eye-catching red super suit. Typical. He finally notices you and eyes you up and down with an eyebrow raised.

" I thought angels would look a little bit more..feathery ? And less like one of my ex-associates.."

Oh boy..Here it is, the introduction part.

" Hello, Mr Stark. I am Y/N, your corrector, my job consists in making sure that your life hasn't been wasted or meaningless.."

He smiles proudly before answering in a pompous voice that daddy's rich boys usually took when asked the question.

" I didn't waste any of it ! That's for sure !"

You frown before writing something on the file, moron..He was a complete moron. But, you still had a job to do. You force yourself to stay polite and look back at the record in your hands.

" So, Mr Stark.."

" Please, call me Tony."

You ark an eyebrow, but don't linger on the subject and only look at the file in your hands even though you already knew what was written on it. You had to pretend, if only to make him realize how lying wouldn't help him.

" I see here that you don't believe in any particular religion..So, you will have the privilege to choose which god will supervise your transfer to the afterlife..Your judge, if you will ?"

He seems to think for a moment before having an idea and looking back at you with a wide grin.

" I know ! Can I try to go to the Valhalla ?"

You ark an eyebrow again at his surprising answer, but then remember that Thor was a friend of his during his life. He surely wanted to see a familiar face during the trial. Understandable. Maybe he wasn't such an idiot after all ?

You nod understandingly before looking back at the file again.

" As it is procedure, I will ask you a few questions and you'll have to answer them as truthfully as possible, alright ?"

Tony agrees and you start with the first one on the list.

" Okay..So, did you ever experience love in your life ? Did you care about anyone, more than yourself that is ?"

He snorts at that last part before replying sarcastically.

" Nope. Never more than myself. Because I've been raised to look after number 1..However, I would say that Pepper and my girl will always be my first priorities.."

You nod before adding.

" And your father ?"

The question catches him off guard, but he quickly composes himself and seems to hesitate before replying.

" My father and I had a..a very complicated relationship..I admit having hated him for a long time, but now ? I only feel pity.."

You raise an eyebrow at his answer, knowing that he had also admired his father in his youth and felt a certain regret as to not have been able to save him and his mother..But you don't comment on that and only go to the next question.

" Do you think you died a better person than you were at the beginning of your life ?"

He smirks confidently at that question before answering ironically.

" Let me see..I've gone from weapon smuggler to superhero..So, yes. I think I changed. Greatly."

You bite you lip in order not to brutally state him the facts that he's killed more innocents as a superhero than as a weapon smuggler.

" Fine. And finally, are you satisfied with the life you've lived and do you think you deserve to go to the great beyond ?"

He laughs, as if it was some sort of joke and shakes his head before looking up at you.

" I saved the world, isn't that good enough ?"

This is the last straw. You close your book with force, which makes him jump a little as you look at him with your nose scrunched in obvious anger and eyebrows furrowed in clear disappointment.

" You, Tony Stark, are the most selfish blind stupidest man I've ever met ! You really think that all of this is funny ?! Are you really satisfied with the life you've lived or do you really have no idea of the chaos and misery you've created around you ?!"

His mouth is agape in astonishment at your sudden outburst and you decide to show him. You flick your fingers and you both find yourselves in front of a burning city that Tony recognizes as New York..the night when the chitauris attacked.

" I..I don't understand..Why show me this ?"

He asks as his eyes linger on the fire ans the people crying and screaming for help. You smile sadly at his own unawareness..

" Because, Tony, the damage you caused didn't stop when you stopped the bad guy. People died before, during, and after you've fought the bad guy. It takes time to rebuild a city, and human ressources that you seem to have overlooked because, what ? You've send them some money ?!"

Tony brawls his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white and suddenly turns towards you with determination in his eyes.

" I think I did okay !"

He argues, but you only snort mockingly.

" Okay ? OKAY ?! You died, you moron ! You died before you've had the chance to truly do good..The money you've accumulated during all those years ? You were going to give it all to the families of all those who died during all those attacks. You were going to have a child ! You were going to be a wonderful father ! And you gave it all away..The money will now be used by the Shield to create more weapons and destruction ! Your daughter will never grow up to be a hero, because you will not be here to inspire her..And Pepper will be forced to raise her all on her own ! You selfish bastard !"

You yell, not noticing how you get carried away, while pointing an accusative finger at him.

" You could have lived your life ! Happily Ever After ! But no, instead you had to die, leaving a child and your wife behind ! How does that sound, genius ? Does it sound like you did "okay" ?! Now, tell me, before I send you either back to Earth or up there. Tell me why I should let you live ? After you messed up the last chance I gave to you ?"

His breath hitches at your words and he looks at his hands, as if considering what he had done before looking up at you with, what you can only describe as, a feeling of loss.

" I did what I did to save my friends. As far as I know, I didn't waste my life, I saved lives. Those lives were as important as mine, who would I be if I hadn't saved them ?"

You roll your eyes at his hero speech before looking at your datapad. You were only a small gear in the mechanism of Earth's afterlife. You were supposed to bring souls to their final destination..However, there were always tricky situations, like Mr Tony Spark. He had been good, there was no doubt about that, but he had also been awful..Damn awful judging by his long list of infractions and lives sacrificed..You sigh before looking up at him in silent contemplation, wondering what you should do with this one..? Suddenly, an idea pops up in your mind and you smile before advancing towards him and extending your hand.

" How about you come and work for me as a way to get your redemption and reunite with your wife and child ? My work may be tedious, but you'll soon come to find that it had its perks..Of course, you'll still have to get the approval of god you chose..but I don't think he'll deny it. A few years as a corrector, and you'll be able to go to the other side, how does that sound ?"

He looks at your extended hand, and then at you before asking something that you had not thought about.

" Please, could you bring me to Asgard ? Just to say goodbye to an old friend ?"

You sigh loudly, of course he would want to see Thor..He would surely ask the god to save him, try to make him pass without any setbacks. But, who were you to deny a soul its last wish ? You flick your fingers and appear at Asgard. Obviously, you couldn't bring him to a place that didn't exist anymore and not right after his death, this is why you had decided to appear just before its destruction..When Loki was in charge..However, unlike what you had previously thought, Tony doesn't seem lost and walks towards the royal hall with alarming confidence. You tag along and soon find yourself in the throne room with Odin (aka Loki) staring at you with a hint of surprise, but still remaining in character.

" What are you doing here, mortals ?!"

He booms and you sigh, another brilliant idea, as always..Loki would surely report you to the High Council and it would be finished of your career. You try to say something, maybe something to keep you both from being shifted into nothingness..But Tony steps towards him and, to the greatest astonishment of Loki and you, embraces him.

" You've done good, son..You've done good.."

Suddenly, as if the both of them had had a silent conversation, Loki wraps his arms around Tony and starts crying against his shoulder.

" I can feel it..You're gone, aren't you ?"

He asks with grief in his voice and you are too shocked to answer..even Loki, the god of Mischief, the bad god as some would call him, was crying for this mere human..You didn't understand why ? Why would he tear up over his death ? A mortal that he hates..The notion was incomprehensible for you and Loki seems to notice and straightens up to look at you.

" I assume he chose Thor as a judge ? Unfortunately, my brother is out of Asgard at the moment.."

Before he could continue, Tony shakes his head negatively before looking back at you with a slight smile.

" No. I've chosen you, reindeer game."

Loki's eyes widen significantly and he repeats, visibly as dumbfounded as you are.

" M..Me ? But..But why ?"

You couldn't have asked it better, why did he choose him ?! Out of everyone else ?! You grab Tony and put on a wide fake smile for Loki.

" I'm sorry, but I must discuss with him for a moment. We'll be back soon, I promise."

You then proceed to drag Tony out of the throne room and, as soon as you are sure to be out of reach, lose your smile to look angrily at Tony.

" Are you mad ?! You could have chosen Thor and go on your merry way to Valhalla, Paradise or whatever..But nooooo, you had to choose the god that despises you the most !"

Tony doesn't seem that worried and only shrugs with a confident smile.

" I know..Loki is the first one to be chosen, ever. He wasn't the one that was supposed to be king, he always got left behind and never got any chance to prove that he could be better..Maybe, for once, he could be my first choice ?"

You open your eyes wide and want to face-palm yourself so hard..Damn heroes and their moral codes !

" It's not about his redemption ! It's about yours !"

He nods, keeping his wide smug smile and replies nonchalantly.

" I know..This is why I chose him. If even him can forgive me, then I'll know that I definitely deserve to go to..whatever is best after.."

You gape at his answer, but finally sigh in defeat. You couldn't make him reconsider, you know that..He was the most stubborn man that you had ever worked with..You drag him back inside and look up at Loki defiantly and warn him, to his utter astonishment.

" Okay, I know now that I can't change my client's mind..But, I can assure you that if you try to sabotage his only chance to go to the great beyond, I'll personally take care of your case when the time comes..Understood ?!"

Loki's eyes glance at Tony then at you, all malice out of his eyes as he nods in agreement.

" I may not be fond of the Avengers, but I know better than to mess with you people..You are not merely humans and even though we were on opposite sides, I still value the life of the human beside you, as a warrior and the worthy opponent that he is.."

" Aww..Love you too, Reindeer !"

You glare at Tony to shut him up as he only smiles smugly at you. Damn Stark..You extend your hand towards the king, aware of the procedure, he takes your arm and looks directly in your eyes.

" Do you promise to be impartial and to not speak of this trial to any living beings as long as you will inhabit the land of the living ?"

" I promise."

He answers solemnly and takes back his appearance, as he was supposed to judge as Loki, not Odin. He then looks at the coin that had appeared in his hand, either he would give it back to you with heads, and Tony's soul would be saved..or tails, and his soul would be lost forever. You take a big breath before beginning the trial.

" We will start with the beginning. Tony Stark is a selfish egocentric man who did spent most of his life searching for recognition, money and fame.."

Loki and Tony both open their eyes wide, not expecting you to be so hard from the start.

" Hum..Aren't you supposed to be my lawyer ? You're supposed to be on my side, remember ?"

Tony asks, a hint of worry in his voice, but you narrow your eyes at him and respond in all seriousness.

" I am not your lawyer, Mr Stark. I'm a corrector. I am supposed to tell the truth and not hide anything from the judge..Now, is any of the things I just said wrong ?"

He gulps loudly and lets out a defeated sigh, looking at the floor and shaking his head.

" No. You're right.."

Your expression softens, at least he had the decency to admit it..

" However, he has proven on multiple occasions that he was a particularly good man that inspired many that will do good in the future. And, became a very good father figure for Peter Parker that will accomplish great things in the future..I have seen a lot of men change in my career, for better or for worse..But none of them were as impressive as the one of Tony Stark that came from being only an average man to a hero that will inspire millions in the future.."

Tony's eyes widen as you start showing holograms of moments of his life in the air, showing every moment of his life to Loki. The god looks and listens attentively as he plays with the coin in his hand, toying with Tony's soul. However, he seems to take it seriously and looks at each moment with great interest. You are more than happy to answer every question he asks and add.

" I must confess that Tony Stark was and is an incredible man that devoted his life to helping others..even if sometimes he was lost or misguided..He always had the best intentions at heart..You, of all people, should know what the fear of failure feels like.."

You try to appeal to his own history for him to feel pity for Tony, but the god of Mischief knows when someone is trying to play with his feelings and only asks with a small tremor in his voice that sounds like a reproach.

" However, Tony never had any beliefs. His only god is money and that he spent on very trivial things..Plus, he had the audacity to think himself a god, Zeus above his friends that he also considered above anyone else..Why should he get to spend his life in bliss when all he ever did was to mock anyone around him and have very big illusions of grandeur !"

You bite your lower lip, you couldn't say that what he was saying is wrong..However..

" However, he never used his money for destruction, he always had the greater good in mind when using it. He also made sure that Peter Parker don't focus on money to accomplish his goals.."

Loki only laughs before searching for one of his memories and projecting it for everyone to see..It was the man. The man that had helped him build his first suit and that had died, even though Tony had promised to save him..

" You tell me about his accomplishments..but what about his failures ? He sacrificed that man. He made a promise and broke it. How are you going to justify that ?"

You clench your jaw in obvious frustration, knowing that Loki was provoking you. Even if he had no grudge against Tony, he still had the ego the size of the Empire State building and more..He wouldn't let go so easily. You glance at Tony that is looking at the short movie of his life with tears in his eyes..He had surely forgotten about him, or he hadn't ? You couldn't tell..

" That man tried to save Tony..It is not his fault if he died while doing so. He saved many like him afterwards and never asked for anything in return..He always thought that the security of his friends and family was above everything else."

Loki stands up at your reply in disagreement and grits his teeths before reaching for another memory.

" Are you sure about that ?"

You frown at his question before you see the moment he had invented Ultron..

" He created that knowledge monster and, even with the green man's warnings, didn't listen to what was safest..Now, do you think he really always had the purest intentions at heart ?"

He is one tough cookie, you'd give him that..You search in Tony's memories to get the vision he had when Wanda manipulated his mind and show his worse nightmare, the Avengers all dead.

" This, this is his worst nightmare. You have to admit that it is proof of the value of his comrades to his eyes..like Asgardians, he fought side by side with his friends and would have died for them..as he did."

However, Loki doesn't back down and finally yells in frustration.

" HE HELPED MY BROTHER TO PLOT MY DEMISE !"

You ark and eyebrow at that before replying, your arms crossed.

" Well..I don't see how's that of any relevance to him being a bad man.."

Flabbergasted by your words, he stares at you with tears in his eyes before sitting back down, visibly shocked at your answer. But, you know that he is thinking about it..You smile and look up at him to announce.

" This is why, I ask you to welcome Tony Stark to the great beyond, or at least let him work his way there !"

At your words, his eyes flash at you with a certain interest.

" Go on.."

Your smile widens. You know that Loki would not let Tony enter if he hadn't been trained before.

" Make him a corrector. Allow him to correct his mistakes and apologize to all those he wronged.."

Loki seems to consider it for a moment and, finally nods.

" I'll allow it, however, I'll also accept him in Valhalla directly.."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his sudden act of mercy..but you quickly understand when he adds with a small smirk.

"..If Tony accepts to kneel in front of me."

You close your eyes, knowing already the reaction of Tony that doesn't waste any time voicing his disagreement.

" Dream on, goat head !"

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose and turning towards Tony that still had his mouth wide open, ready to protest. You want to intervene, but Loki does it for you as he suddenly stands up again and grits his teeths at Tony before ordering.

" Kneel ! Or you can say goodbye to your soul !"

You open your eyes wide in fear as he starts crackling the coin in his palm. You turn towards Tony that feels as if he was being crushed himself. You then look back at Loki before yelling at him.

" The trial is not over, your Highness ! You have no right..!"

He glares murderously at you before cutting you short by laughing maniacally.

" That's where you're wrong ! I have every right !"

You look between the two men with panic seizing your whole being before sighing and getting out a lasso. You use it to grab Loki's arm and yank him on the floor, letting go of the coin by the same occasion that starts rolling before stooping just in front of you. You take it in your hand and Loki looks up at you with his jaw clenched and eyes red with fury. However, you don't let yourself be intimidated and take him by the collar to drag him back to his throne.

" You'll regret this.."

He whispers in your ear and you only laugh at his threat before tying him up to the throne.

" There are many things that I fear in this world..But, prince Loki, you aren't one of them.."

You can feel him tense at your words, but still put back the coin in his hand with a small smile.

" Now..I know that my existence is a mistake and that your huge ego can't handle the fact that a mere woman is keeping you still..But, there is no reason for you to deny Tony his afterlife. You said it yourself, he was a worthy opponent and never wielded, even once. He is prideful, a recognition seeker and a liar..But he is also the Iron Man, the man of steel who defeated far more powerful beings than you..I didn't tell you how he died, but I think I should.."

You suddenly turn around and extend your arms to show two things..One is the day Tony died, and the other..when Loki did.

He looks at the images with wide eyes and, even after seeing it over and over, can't believe it..He had died. And Tony had avenged him. He almost laughs at his choice of word: avenge. He looks up at Tony with a new-found respect and Tony doesn't shy away from his gaze that he meets with determination. Loki then glances at the coin in his hand before throwing it at you..it lands on tails and you smile widely at Loki that nods in affirmation.

" I'll allow it..I'll allow him to enter by the doors of Valhalla to the other side. However, as agreed, Tony Stark will have to serve as a corrector for as long as it takes for him to understand the true repercussions of his mistakes, it means until I allow him to pass..Are we clear ?"

He looks down at you intently and you nod vehemently, happy to have saved his soul. Tony himself can't seem to believe it and looks shocked as he looks at you. You can't help but smile widely at him and he reciprocates. You then turn towards Loki and, to his surprise, bow down to him.

" Thank you, your Highness."

He then coughs loudly, making your head shoot up and realize that he was still..well, attached. You blush widely before clapping your hands and the magical lasso loosens to get back around your waist. Loki stares intensely at you and you feel cold sweat rolling down your back. You swiftly turn around to grab Tony and get out of the throne room, too afraid that he would ask for your name and report you to the High Council..When you're far enough, Tony suddenly takes you in his arms and twirls you around to your surprise.

" We did it ! I'll be able to see my wife and kid again ! Thank you so much !"

You can't help but giggle as he spins you around and when he finally puts you down, he frowns, his brain working full on as he seems to realize something.

" You helped me and were so angry at the fact that I had wasted my time..even though you now seem so happy that I made it..Who are you, really ?"

You let out a small sad smile as you look back at him with your eyes filled with tears. You should have known he would guess it eventually..

" I love you 3000.."

You finally mutter and his eyes widen as he understands and his own eyes prickle with tears as he gently runs his hand against your cheek.

" You're..?"

You nod and take a step back to smile at him through your tears.

" It was nice to meet you, dad."

He tries to hold back his tears before taking you in his arms.

" You've grown so much..How..How are you here ? You're not dead, are you ?!"

He asks worriedly, looking at you as if for the first time and you chuckle at his fatherly concern.

" No, Dad..I became a corrector because I wanted to meet you..Some are humans. I asked uncle Thor to make me one."

He nods, and then remembers that you have access to all of his memories..For the first time today, Tony Stark feels a pang of guilt in his chest.

" You must have felt ashamed of your old man, huh ?"

He asks and you smile kindly at him before answering him truthfully.

" I must admit that multiple times, I asked myself if it was good for the rest of humanity to let you live..that I wasn't being selfish in wanting to save you, but, at the end, I knew that you would become a great man..And, you did."

He smiles proudly at you before kissing your forehead lovingly.

" I'm sorry for not being there, sweetheart..I really am."

You shake your head and wipe your tears before answering him with a hopeful smile.

" It's okay..At least, I'll be able to spend time with you, until your final departure at least.."

He smiles at you, understanding now why you wanted him to become a corrector so bad and takes you in his arms again.

" That's my daughter. Scheming plans to spend time with the old man..Stark material, I tell you."

You can't help but snort at his comment while tightening your grip on him and finally closing your eyes in contempt.

" I love you 3000, dad.."

You feel his lips etch into a smile against your skin as he answers back.

" I love you 3000 too, kiddo.."

#fandoms #marvel #tony stark #iron man #loki laufeyson #the avengers

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walkswithmyfather · 3 years

Text

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. I know who are mine, and they know me, just as the Father knows me and I know him. I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that are not in this sheepfold. I must bring them too. They will listen to my voice and there will be one flock with one shepherd. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life so I may take it up again. No one takes it from me; I choose to lay it down. I have the right to give it up, and I have the right to take it back. This is the command my Father gave me.” John 10:11‭, ‬14‭-‬18 (FBV)

“But now I'm going to the one who sent me, and yet not one of you is asking me, ‘Where are you going?’ Of course, now that I've told you, you're full of grief. But I'm telling you the truth: it's better for you that I go away, for if I don't the Comforter won't come to you. If I go away, I will send him to you. When he comes, he will convince those in the world that they have wrong ideas regarding sin, about what is right, and about judgment: Sin, for they don't trust in me. What is right, for I'm going to the Father and you won't see me any longer. Judgment, for the ruler of this world has been condemned. In a little while you won't see me anymore, but then a little while after that you will see me.” Some of his disciples said to one another, “What does he mean, ‘In a little while you won't see me, but a little while after that you will see me’? and ‘For I'm going to the Father’?” They were asking, “What does he mean by ‘in a little while’? We don't know what he's talking about.” Jesus realized that they wanted to ask him about this. So he asked them, “Are you wondering about my comment, ‘In a little while you won't see me, but a little while after that you will see me’? I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice. You will grieve, but your grief will turn into joy. A woman in labor suffers pain because her time has come, but once the baby is born, she forgets the agony because of the joy that a child has been brought into the world. Yes, you're grieving now, but I will see you again; and you will rejoice, and no one can take away your joy. I left the Father and came into the world; now I leave the world and return to my Father.” John 16:5‭-‬11‭, ‬16‭-‬22‭, ‬28 (FBV)

It's a desperately sad day today. When you know the medical details of what it was like to be crucified and the awful physical suffering Jesus went through you're never the same again. I learned the details two Easters ago and I was devastated. I almost wish I didn't know. But only almost, because once you know, the sheer enormity of what Jesus CHOSE to do out of love for His Father and love for us is beyond words.

When Jesus asked His Father if it was possible to take the cup of suffering away, (Mk 14:36; Mt 26:42; Lk 22:42) it wasn't the physical suffering that He was talking about. He was talking about the prospect that, for the first and last time in all Eternity, He would be SEPARATED from God the Father and God the Holy Spirit. Can you imagine that? They had always been ONE. God in three parts, a Trinity that loved and supported each other in a way beyond human understanding.

Throughout Jesus' ministry on Earth, He constantly gives His Father glory. He goes away many times to pray in seclusion to receive strength from His beloved Father. Everything He does is for His Father. Or Abba, as He calls Him. But for all of us, His sheep, Jesus said “yet not My will, but Yours be done.”

When Jesus said in Mt 27:46 “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) It is the only time He says “God”, not “Father”, because at that moment He is separated from His Father and the pain must have been unbearable beyond anything we could ever imagine. “Forsaken” means “deserted”, “abandoned”. We can never know how Jesus felt in that moment, alone and abandoned for the first time in all His existence; our human minds could never comprehend it.

But the Cross is not the end of the story. Jesus died in agony to save us all from the consequences of our sin, so we can have eternal life with our Heavenly Father. When Jesus said, just before He gave up His Spirit, “It is finished” (Jn 19:30) the sacrifice was complete.

And on the third day, Jesus will rise again in triumph. And then Jesus ascends to Heaven, until one day He will return again: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death will never happen again. There will be no mourning or crying or pain ever again for the former world no longer exists.” Revelation 21:4 (FBV)

IT'S FRIDAY, BUT SUNDAY'S COMING!

#John 16:5‭-‬11‭ ‬16‭-‬22‭ ‬28 #bible #bibletranslations #crucifixion #Jesus #suffering #sacrifice by Jesus #John 10:11‭ ‬14‭-‬18 #Mark 14:36 #Matthew 26:42 #Luke 22:42 #Matthew 27:46

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thesunsetmeansgoodbye · 3 years

Text

Alcina Dimitrescu & Mother Miranda

For her, Mother is this scripture she meditate day and night even if she's no merely answer for her mother's kept prayers. Perhaps, almost..

Alcina silently watch Miranda read the files of her recent experiments, the priestess seem to frown inside the golden mask.

“Basically, some died and the rest turned into Moroaică”.

“Yes, Mother Miranda”. She droop her head aside, the hat hides the sight of her Mother.

“I should’ve known. Next time you waste my time, make sure it’s worthwhile. I had enough of your failures, when you supposed be not.” That's all she heard before the older woman takes its leave. And right now she needed a drink.

Another meeting takes over, Alcina sometimes would catch her mother's eyes closed and looking tired. When she open snap them there this no emotion holds it. Lips secretly pressed to each other, she listens to the discussion like an obedient daughter she always were unless Heisenberg nerved to piss her off.

She hates when Mother favors the other lords whom she considered below to her and Mother Miranda, she hates this unnecessary siblings, they barely interact with each other and she would rather it stay that way.

“I put end to this meeting now, all of you may take your leave.”

Every single one leaves the decrepitude church, Alcina caught the glimpse of her Mother and Donna. She looks like assigned to a task but why only give it when the meeting is done? Alcina could only groan. Mother did not assigned her to anything, did she not trust her anymore?

She follow her mother for everything she ordered her to, even in the things beyond her will. Her recognition means so much for her and from that she will do anything, giving all the colors for all the portraits she needed; a masterpiece to offer her Mother. Just, one perfect vessel.

Despite the devotion she holds to the older woman, there's this one exception, and she be willingly fight the world for her three daughters, just like her Mother.. and she hopes, the edge point will not reach where she needs to break an agreement to the priestess when its already her daughters involved.

“Mother?”.

She gently caress the hair of her youngest that was the head is on her lap, gentle smile formed from the ruddy lips of the countess once soon turn into frown, when the thought came of Mother Miranda doing the same thing on the countess like the daughter she always claim Alcina is to her. But it is a thought that is unlikely to happen.

When Miranda visits the castle once in a while, Alcina decorates the table with expensive fine china and foods all for her mother of course along with her famous wine. Even though Mother Miranda looks not to enjoy any of it more than the reports of experiments she overnight do in the dungeons that often ends to be just nothing but a defect.

When they were settled in their table, Alcina couldn’t stop talking like a child who keeps narrating of how great their day went to its parent. She even brought up some memories she cherished from her once human life, her being a singer and her passion for it but Mother just seems to tolerate of all her talks without uttering a single word back and only emptied her own glass of wine and after the feast the priestess would immediately takes its leave. On the other hand, Alcina only smiled helplessly.

Mother Miranda given her everything, the comfort and answers in life. Given the things her true mother couldn’t and her father would never granted. He never wanted a daughter anyway. She secretly suffered in her noble branch but it’s all over now.

And even Mother had given her all of this, she somehow long for an affection of a parent, something that her wine couldn’t remedy.

She tucked herself onto the large bed, as the same time, she murmured some words of comfort for herself some she could remember her true mother used to say to her, it was hesitant but soothing enough. Tears run from the golden sun eyes.

One meeting, she didn’t noticed any signs of its usual intimidating presence of her Mother, her aura seems to radiate happiness she never saw whenever she was with them. Happiness arouse in her too, she wonder what is the reason behind the bliss visage.

“I’m glad to inform all you that I found the perfect receptacle for our dear Eva,”

Eva. Her true child. Mother Miranda told them she have found the perfect vessel to resurrect her child, not to mention that fact its already dead over a century now. She dared not to speak and get any further in her Mother's bad side. She just sit and listen and only speak when ordered or allowed to.

“That's a very pleasant news, Mother Miranda.”

“Indeed, fiica mea.” She placidly smiled at her, and it warms Alcina's heart.

To every task she was assigned to, she do her best not want to dissapoint her Mother. There's no doubt she would do anything, remain to be her Mother's favorite even if she will have to fuel the fire of her mother roasting the other lords.

“B – but, Mother–“

“Stop the attempts to gloss over your failures Moreau, there's no merit it could do upon you, “ The fish man seems to crestfallen from the words but she just stared, after all, she have no care about them but Miranda and her daughters.

Meanwhile, she looked at Heisenberg who seem on other hand was close to scoffing.

“Hah, that really comes from the person who was also covering up his mistake.”

“Pardon?”.

He pinched his nose, before to speak

“You're just flawed as this grotesque freak! Even worse, so stop self-proclaming yourself to Miranda and keep referring us as a failure when it does also count you as one. Fucking accept it!”

“You– take that back you wrenched!”

“Silence!”.

Both of them retreat, but the palpable tension lingers.

“There's no better than another. You all disappoint me in all ways.”

Hate was born for her Mother's dead daughter, she thinks that this is all her fault and she question why the priestess couldn’t just, move on. Why was it always her? Why can’t Mother see her another daughter, that's right in front of her: alive and well, who would be willingly to fill the loss if needed. She often calls Alcina her child and daughter but neither the words felt like were stuffed. Now she sounded like a child, but she couldn’t resist no longer.

“Why isn’t always not enough?”. Her teeth gritted between the words of her misery.

After she had received her Cadou, Alcina's world began to only revolve of her Mother and following experiments in her dungeon. The cold wind and the flakes from the snow wrapped around her when loneliness and insecurity rose inside her well-being as if wants to make the situation for her worse. After all this time, it will always be Eva who occupied her Mother’s most chapters and she didn’t even bother to look over the pages were Alcina is in it, cursive beautifully written that soon tainted by her own sly tears.

For her, Mother is this scripture she meditate day and night even if she's no merely answer for her mother's kept prayers. Perhaps, almost..

She would sometimes pay a visit to her oldest sister Eve, when there's leisure time just to sit beside the grave without words store to utter for the tomb. Mother did not considered to forbid her adopted children to visit the grave, she even neither said anything about it so the other lords she assume didn’t know where it was in the first place.

But mother doesn’t have to know her visits or will she ever care?

She barely knew what would say to the dead, she did know no single prayer. She didn’t even met the child that was taken too early, was she anything like Mother? Is she like anything template of Mother? Or perhaps her father?

“You must had grown beautiful just like our Mother. C– could you tell Mother not to be too hard on me, when you resurrected again? Soră mai mare..” Because even, she could handle all the pain does not mean she deserves it, right?

She made her way to leave as she gets back to the castle.

Mother Miranda sends her a letter once in a while, when she was not able to come to the castle herself because of her research. The letter contain often of must attain task and criticization. She’d pick up some red pen, aimlessly drawing circles on the back of the letter; frowning. It took her some time before she full the entire back of the paper.

She stopped at the peak of the castle, above her was the sky painted in its greyest shade. She started to shred the paper, the pieces season on the white covered ground. She barely see it land because of the height.

“I've had enough of this".

No! Her daughters.. now gone! That damn Winters! Those three bugs who keeps alive her barely beating heart, taken away from her! How!? How could Mother allowed this to happen? Where is she? The roars of the dragon in its hinted despair did she not heard!? Out of all men she's the only person who can understand, it hurts.. so much.

Yet, no presence of power from the Mother she knew stop the gravity of her downfall.

She is confident to think she's her mother’s favorite but she might hinted it wrong however, the proof of the blessing she casted upon her among the others. Castle, eternal life, obedient daughters did she not? How come she couldn’t accept the affection Alcina returned? Wasn't it enough to cease her mother's insurmountable grief? For a child that was no longer here, she barely tolerate all of it.

She sit and watch her.

“Remember from whence you came".

#alcina dimitrescu #mother miranda #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #parental issues #a song fic I guess #Alcina being a desperately in need for affection of her mother #In the end she got canonically betrayed

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iamkidfish · 3 years

Note

Would you be at all interested in writing a prompt based off a quote? I've been reading On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous and got destroyed by the line "sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you’ve been ruined". I feel like it's a line that works for both Leah and Fatin, and I would love to read your interpretation of it!

have a little angst this morning

Read on ao3!

It shouldn’t be a big deal. 50 days on the island. 50 days of fighting for their lives against the elements, against each other, against themselves.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, except it is.

50 days pass for eight girls barely surviving on an island when there should be nine.

There’s a choked sob, like someone is trying to muffle the sound, and then another and Leah wakes to the sound of Fatin crying. It surprises her more than it should, Fatin crying. She hasn’t seen Fatin cry, not at school, not on the first day, not when Fatin held Leah in her arms on the beach, not even after Nora pulled Rachel’s unconscious body from the ocean, her bloodied arm looking like it got sent through a wood chipper.

She turns over, trying to look for Fatin’s body by the shine of the moonlight. As the weeks went by, they all started sleeping closer and closer together, kind of like a group of seals on a dock, so it’s impossible to discern Fatin from the others. Shelby’s blonde hair catches Leah’s eye and she focuses in, noticing how Shelby’s left hand is gently curled around the inside of Toni’s elbow. Leah smiles, in spite of herself.

Past Shelby, Martha and Dot are curled together, with Dot lying on her back, mouth open, and Martha tucked into her side. Near them, Nora and Rachel are wrapped up so tightly Leah can’t really determine who’s body is who’s. They’ve slept like that ever since the accident and every time Leah looks at Rachel her eyes can’t help but slide down her arm to what’s left of her wrist. It’s mostly a mangled stump, but considering the limited supplies, it looks at least stable. Rachel’s been highly medicated most everyday and every few hours Dot pours their quickly depleting supply of vodka on it.

A noise behind her makes Leah turn around. She maneuvers around their campsite, the best she can in the dark, stepping over water bottles, pieces of driftwood, even Martha’s suitcase, before she reaches Fatin.

She’s curled tightly, more like a ball than the fetal position, and away from Leah so she can’t see her face. It’s not particularly cold out, but Fatin’s shaking.

Leah drops to her knees, hands hovering over Fatin’s side, unsure if she can touch, then switches direction to lie behind Fatin. She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, the ones that have been there since around day 29, as they try to flutter awake. For a second, Leah pauses before wrapping her arms around Fatin. The other girl doesn’t protest at the contact, but she also doesn’t acknowledge or lean into it, just continues shivering.

It’s hard but she tries not to notice how well their bodies fit together. They’ve slept close together before (Fatin actually has been insistent about Leah sleeping near her ever since “Leah’s second Virginia Woolf moment” as Rachel dubbed it accordingly), but never this close, with her front pressed up against Fatin’s back. They’re basically spooning.

As if she heard Leah’s thoughts, Fatin mumbles, “I’m the little spoon. God, how embarrassing.”

She lets out a pained laugh and Leah freezes. She wasn’t expecting for Fatin to react, let directly acknowledge what’s happening.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t spooned someone before, Rilke,” Fatin’s voice cracks but still manages to have her signature teasing lilt.

“Of course I have,” Leah says into Fatin’s shoulder, her face heating up against her will. Thank God, Fatin isn’t looking at her.

“Well then you know you have to commit,” Fatin says, moving Leah’s arm so it’s curled against Fatin’s stomach. Leah counts to 100 by 7’s twice to resist the urge of flexing her fingers against Fatin’s skin. Not the time.

Her brain blurts out the first thing she thinks of, “Ironic, how you’re talking to me about commitment.”

(Smooth Leah, real smooth)

Fatin doesn’t respond to her stupid ass comment, doesn’t talk for a long time. She is not crying as much, at least not that Leah can hear, the tears could still be falling down her face silently, she reminds herself.

“You know, my dad didn’t let me say goodbye to my brothers,” Fatin finally says. “At the airport. Didn’t even let them come, they had to stay home with my mom. He said they had ‘too much homework’ which was bullshit. School was almost over by the end of May. I knew he just didn’t want me to see them and now…”

Fatin takes a shuddering breath and dissolves into fresh sobs.

“It’s been fifty days and...and I don’t know if I’m ever going to see them again,” she hiccups.

“Fatin you don’t…” but the reassurance dies in Leah’s throat. After fifty days, dying on the island seems like a very real possibility, as real of a possibility when Leah was losing her mind over the realization and tried to run into the ocean a month ago, maybe even more so now, with their collective fear growing each day about how purposeful everything feels, how a group of (seemingly) random strangers arbitrarily came to be stuck on an island, depending on each other. The day they saw the plane fly over doesn’t even register in Leah’s mind as significant anymore, just another circumstance on her list proving that something is fucking wrong.

It hits her, Leah’s bad at this. Being there for someone, let alone comforting them. It feels alien to her, as much as her cell phone or Ian, a thousand miles away, desperately insignificant to her, to what’s on this island. Honestly, she can’t remember the last time she’s touched someone like this before the island, especially someone she cares about. Leah was never a particularly touchy kid but after him, when she started to flinch at her mother’s touch or shunned away from her father’s hugs, her tolerance for physical contact plummeted, pretty much becoming nonexistent.

The feeling rises from her chest into her throat like bile and Leah becomes acutely aware of how her body is positioned, how she’s holding Fatin, just like how he held her: from behind, chin tucked into shoulder, arms snaking around her waist. She always found it comforting but now, in the haze of the memory, she wonders if he did that to keep her in place, to hold her down. Leah stiffens, she can’t help it, as the pressing, suffocating feeling settles again over her body.

But Fatin isn’t him, and neither is she. Leah knows that, knows it in the way Fatin’s hair smells like pears and sand and salt, knows it in the spaces that she's hesitant and timid, Fatin is unselfishly bold, knows it by the way Fatin’s fingers never rest, even now tapping out a slow melody on her arm, knows it because Fatin’s been there for her since the plane crash (well, close enough), holding her and crying with her, and a tiny, persistent voice in the back of Leah’s head whispers loving—

Still, Leah gently extracts her hands from around Fatin’s waist and tugs on her shoulders until Fatin is turning over to face her.

“You will. We will get back home, we have to.”

Maybe it’s the darkness that makes her bold, but Leah leans forward, just enough, to brush her lips against Fatin’s forehead. She tries to ignore the hitch in her chest or the memory of Fatin doing the same to her after she ran into the ocean, thinking Leah was still knocked out from the pills instead of just dozing.

“You probably just got sand in your mouth, dummy,” the weight of the insult is weakened by the way Fatin’s voice breaks.

“I don’t care,” and Leah doesn’t. She has more important things to think/worry about than a few grains of sand, like keeping everyone she knows alive, keeping herself mostly sane, and not screwing up and saying something incredibly stupid in front of this girl she’s holding in her arms.

Fatin sucks in a breath and maybe, just maybe, thanks to the light from the full moon above them, Leah sees Fatin’s lips quiver. It takes her a second to look back up at Fatin and the other girl is already looking at her, the air thick with tension, thick with an unspoken something.

Leah’s nose tickles as Fatin nudges it ever so slightly with her own. It feels like an invitation and maybe in another life without deserted islands and broken girls Leah would understand and kiss Fatin until they’re both breathless, but she looks at Fatin again, still with tears on her face, and wonders if Fatin expects it because that’s all she’s ever known: people using her body for their own motivations. And it’s not that Leah doesn’t want to kiss her, because God, she does, but she wants to do it right, and wants it to last this time.

She leans in because she can’t completely resist the hedonistic (self-destructive) pull in her stomach, the curiosity of how Fatin’s skin feels against her lips, and presses her lips into the corner of Fatin’s cheek, just close enough to her mouth to say I want this too, but not now. Leah knows she’s lingering, but the mix of perfume and salt is almost addictive and it just feels so fucking good to touch someone, knowing Fatin won’t break. (Is it because they’re both broken already, who knows?)

Leah pulls back and Fatin’s looking at her with more tears streaking silently down her cheeks, but Leah’s pretty sure she understands.

She wipes a tear from the side of Fatin’s eye and maybe, she thinks for a moment Fatin is going to make a comment about messing up her mascara, but then thinks better of it, because this moment, where they’re both staring into each others eyes under the moonlight on an empty beach feels too heavy for any words.

Instead, Fatin just tucks her face into the crook in Leah’s collarbone and shudders and shakes with silently sobs, but Leah holds her, all through the night, even when she’s too exhausted to open her eyes anymore, and falls asleep too.

Thankfully, when Dot finds them in the morning still curled into each other, she waits until they walk back to camp with the others before nodding and passing a water bottle to Fatin.

#the wilds #the wilds!fic #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #leah x fatin #leatin #leatin fic #leatin breakdown hours #my brain decided to finally finish this prompt and i absolutely love it <33 #whoever sent this in thank YOU i'm sorry it's like a month late #the void

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ TWO ROADS ❜

with Canche and Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 2k.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Please, don't do that. Let me go”. With both hands raised to the man, you tried to push him away.

“No”. He just said with a naughty smile drawn on his lips, before grabbing your wrists to lift you up over his shoulder like a heavy bag, walking to the main room of the house.

“Let me go!” You shouted stirring over him, until you felt your body falling down over the mattress.

Sitting up on your forearms, you blow into a rebellious tuft of hair in the middle of your face, frowning. You couldn't barely breathe because of the efforts, watching the man crawling above the bed.

“I swear I'm gonna kill you”.

“Will you?” He asked, twisting his neck slightly, pouncing on you to tickle you on both sides.

“Canche, stop!” You screamed between laughs, trying to catch his hands while he made himself some space between your legs.

“C'mon, five minutes more, princesa de los Mayas”. The mexican surrounded you with his strong arms, resting his face on your stomach.

“My father is gonna kill us, if he finds out”.

“Just five minutes more”. He begged almost in a whisper, closing his eyes.

“I hate you”. You growled rolling your eyes, pretending that you didn't want to spend some time more together.

“I'm glad to know that it's something reciprocated”. The Mayan muttered, moving some inches until reaching your lips.

Tangling your legs with his and placing your hands on his head, you deepened the kiss, keeping the slow pace but welcoming his tongue inside your mouth. Every time you were this close, he had the same effect on you like the first time, bristling your skin and needing for more. You could assure that he was so in love with you, as you were with him. And you would like to shout it to the rooftops. But that wasn't an option. Not for the moment, at least.

“I know that… you can't call me”. You said caressing his neck with one of your hands, using your nails to made him some sweet tickles. “But… two weeks is too much. Maybe… I don't know… a text, to know that you're okay”.

“I will try, mi amor. I swear it”. He replied with a low tone of voice, accommodating his head on the pillow. “And when I come back, we will disappear for some days. We can go to the beach, if you want”.

“Sounds good, yeah”. You nodded assorted on the way of his lips moving, totally spellbound hearing his voice.

The man took back his hands to undone the clasp of the fine gold chain, with a small medal of the Virgen de Guadalupe. Silent, and very focused on his new task, he placed it around your neck. You knew how much he loved that necklace, being a gift from his mother who passed away some years ago. Giving it to you meant more than anyone could imagine, and you would swear you were about to cry if he hasn't kissed you again.

You have never been a believer, but you started to pray every night for him, to keep him safe and alive. It has been two long weeks, with a trip that started in Southern Cali to Stockton and Oakland, continuing to Portland. And after that, back to Santo Padre. One of the trips more dangerous of Mayans history, with a shipment of AK-47, even if they were accompanied by some SOA charters. But the day of their return has come and, with it, all your men. At least, you know it when you see through the front window of your car all the bikes parked there. The first you find is your father's. Next to it, Canche's.

Almost jumping out from your seat, you run like never before to the inside of the clubhouse. But the situation that welcomes you is chaotic. You open the door on time to watch Bishop tackling your boyfriend. A storm of hits and kicks is around everywhere, while the other Mayans stare at you almost frowning. You don't need to be a genius to know what is happening. Grabbing Ibarra's gun, being aware that no one is going to stop the fight, you point at the roof to fire it. The bullet impacting on it, calls everyone's attention. The two men on the floor are breathing violently, blood on their faces and angry gestures. Then, you point at them.

“The next one throwing a punch, juro por la Virgen that I'm gonna shot his brain off”.

The men separate from each other, standing up over their feet and shaking their clothes.

“How much time have you been together?” Your father asks, cleaning a brief red thread flowing from his bottom lip. His eyes are filled with rage.

“Why does it matter, dad?”

“Because I asked you for one last thing, and you shitted on it”.

“Do you think I made it on purpose? That I chose it?”

“You betrayed me. And you lied to me”.

“For God's sake… Ain't gonna talk about it in front of all these men”.

“We don't have anything else to talk about. You already took a decision”.

You just nod, one time. Stretching your arm to Ibarra, you give him back his gun.

“Doing the same shit that your mother did”.

His whisper doesn't go unnoticed to your ears, taking a step ahead when he's about to unlock himself inside the Templo.

“You pushed mom away, just like you are doing with me. If you are alone, if you are losing the only people who really love you, it's because of you, padre. Because of your jealousy, because of your inflexibility, because of your egocentrism complex”.

Bishop doesn't turn, but suddenly stops his heavy feet.

“(Y/N), don't talk to your father like that”. Canche says, frowning at you.

“Truth fucks you up, right?” You say raising your chin. “Love doesn't mean to hurt, dad. And sometimes I feel that you stab my chest. That you suffocate me. I feel alone the whole time, and you don't really know what it feels like, because I'm always by your side. But you weren't for me when I needed you the most. So don't blame me for choosing a man who cares about me, without asking anything back, over you”.

It has been the worst weeks of your life. You were sure that you were suddenly and inevitably falling into a dark depression, when you realized that you haven't gone out of Canche's house since you came. Mostly, you are tucked in his bed, grabbing the pillow as strongly as you can, wetting it with your tormented tears. A prospect was accompanying you all the time that your boyfriend was away from your side.

“How is the kid?”

Taza gets up from his chair, before Canche can leave the Templo. He turns around crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who asks?”

No one replies.

“She isn't happy, if you wanna know it”. His eyes are on Bishop's. “She cries most of the day. Hardly eats anything. And I can't remember how her laugh sounds”.

Your boyfriend is about to continue his steps, but he stops again.

“And I had to take her to the hospital some days ago, because she has a panic attack”.

“Maybe if you di—”.

“Don't you dare to add me in your equation, Bishop. This is your fault, not mine. I care about her. I love her. And I want to spend my life with her. I'm not trying to steal your daughter from you. I'm not asking her to leave you. I was even about to delegate my position as Presidente, and ask for a change of charter to be close to her. To come to Santo Padre, so she wouldn't have to leave her family”. His voice sounds firmly, blunt. “You are losing your daughter because of you, not because of me”.

Canche doesn't want to waste more time, having a road of one hour and a half to his house. The only thing he wants right now is come back, be with you, and try to comfort your pain somehow. So he doesn't notice that the crew follows him to the outside, in the meantime that he reaches his motorcycle.

His way back home feels like an eternity, parking in front of the porch, and almost jumping out from the top of it. The prospect is waiting close to the door, shrugging his shoulders to let him know that nothing has changed. You heard the door getting opened, turning your head over the pillow, watching him coming into the room. You would like to smile, as every time you see him, but it's like if your brain doesn't send the order to your lips. Lying down and embracing you over the mattress, filling your face with a bunch of kisses.

“I've missed you, mi vida”. He whispers onto your lips, before caressing them. “I took a day off, so I will be here with you the whole time”.

You can't help but sink your face under his chin, letting him hold you tightly. That's the only moment you feel somewhat better, knowing that he's not going to kick out your ass. Knowing that he loves you unconditionally.

“How was him?” You whisper.

“Fucked like you”. He just replies, kissing your head. “But I know that he's going to come today, you will see. I know it”.

He wasn't wrong. Actually, Canche is never wrong. You suddenly wake up because of the loud roar of an engine. It's coming closer, accentuating over others behind it. The bed is empty, and the room is almost in darkness. Rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, you get up from the mattress, guiding your steps to the living room as soon as you hear your boyfriend greeting your father. Sticking your head out the corner of the hallway, your eyes find him before anyone else there. He looks like shit. His beard is longer, scruffy. The two black marks under his eyes tell you that he hasn't slept much more than you.

Canche moves his head in silence, indicating the crew to leave the house, so you would have some intimacy and time alone. Bishop takes a step ahead, trying to reach you, trying to say something. But he can't. Doubting, he walks a little closer. Slowly. Hoping that you don't turn him down. Raising a hand towards your left, he holds it to push you into his arms. Surrounding your body, he hugs you with that kind of love and warmth that only your father can transmit you. All the sadness and the pain has gone. The fear of losing him, inside your chest, isn't oppressing it anymore.

“I'm sorry”. He says in a whisper, tightening his grip around you.

“Me too…”

“You don't have to, because you were right. This is my fault, mi princesa”.

He pulls himself away from you, enough to find your reddened eyes, about to cry again.

“I know you have to leave the nest, but I'm not ready. And I will never be. But if you have to do it, I'm good knowing that Canche is by your side”.

Leaning, your father kisses your forehead, pressing his lips on it for some long seconds.

“Just let me take care of you tonight, please”.

You just nod in silence. You couldn't say ‘no’. You need him, you didn't know it could be this hard to live without him. It's not the same when he's on a trip, than when he's just away from you. Closing your arms around him, you hide your face on his chest, like you used to do when you were a child waking up from a nightmare.

“I will always love you, pa'. No matter who else is in my life. I will always love you more than anyone”.

“I know, princesa. I do. And I will always do it”.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #canche x reader #canche #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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thebeautyoffandoms · 3 years

Note

I've been rereading ph and having thoughts™ so I've come to grace your inbox again. If this is annoying just ignore me/ask me to stop. Anyway, Elliot and the Nightrays' fates in general is probably one of the most tragic things in ph to me. Of the 3 great dukedoms involved with the tragedy of Sablier the Nightrays are the ones who didn't actually do anything wrong. The Duke Nightray at the time even warned Oswald (Glen) not to let Jack keep visiting. Yet they're the dukedom who came out of the tragedy the worst for it, being labelled as traitors and treated with heavy suspicion. Then in the present the entire Nightray family gets wiped out at either Elliot or Vincent's hands by the end of the story.

Just thinking about this in terms of Elliot, his family was like the most important thing to him. Boy was always going on about the pride of his family and any time we got even little glimpses of his relationship with his siblings you could see how much they cared about one another. And when he dies the only family he has left is his father and Vince + Gil. But his father is killed shortly after anyway and his adoptive brothers don't really care about being Nightrays. It just strikes me as overwhelmingly unfair for this family.

The Nightrays were certainly capable of being quite nasty but to some degree they got driven to that behaviour by how their dukedom was treated in the first place? All because Jack set them up as the traitors in his version of the tragedy of Sablier. But Elliot had this kind of great potential to be better than his family, we see how he opens up more to new ideas and befriends Oz, but he can never realise that potential. Idk if I have a point here. The Nightrays just fascinate me in how they were set up to fail and not a single one of them survives to the end. Some of their worst actions were just down to them being entitled/prideful aristocrats and were entirely their fault but I still think the family as a whole was dealt quite a rough hand by fate.

I love the Pandora Hearts thoughts, so no worry about them being annoying!! Even when I’m obsessing over something else, Pandora Hearts is one of those things I can immediately start ranting about- tho I haven’t reread it yet (tho I need to, and have read certain chapters?) so I have no idea if what I say is completely accurate-

But! Oh gosh, I agree. Even if I dislike them, I do feel bad- I guess they sort of had that “if you want to treat me like I’m bad, then I have to be bad” thing going on? Or maybe not, who knows. It just sort of feels like that. Like you said, some of the things they did, along with their personalities, is just them being snotty and rude- but that doesn’t mean they had it easy.

I think I feel the worst for the Duke Nightray, and his family, at the time of the Tragedy of Sablier (tho I can’t remember the personality, if we even get much of one, from him), and Elliot (Gil and Vincent too, but I’ll go off of biological family). The family at the time of the Tragedy definitely had to deal with... well, a lot- and, sure, the family had to deal with it all the way down the line, but they dealt with it head on (b,,but now the most of their heads are... off- ba dum tss.) And Elliot for obvious reasons.

Taking my chance to brag on him, Elliot was genuinely such a good person? Despite his biological siblings telling him to stay away from Vincent and Gil, he treated them as kindly as a proud little boy could. He spent time with them- and, vaguely remembering Vincent’s words here, kept Gil happy in one of the hardest times in his life. He’s got the rooted distaste for the Vessalius family for reasons that were, I’d assume, explained to him. But, he learned to befriend Oz- the worst part about Elliot’s death, in my humble opinion, is the fact that he had so much more he could do. (Tho a lot of Pandora Hearts deaths are like that- it feels like Mochijun just... went down a list of “saddest ways to have a character die”.) He and Oz came to somewhat of an agreement to do their best to mend the relationship between their families. Though two teenage boys probably couldn’t have done much to fix years and years of dispute, it does make you wonder what would have happened if he lived. He was (Ahh using past tense for him... my heart-) proud of his family enough for anyone to know. How would those who found out treat a Nightray befriending a Vessalius? How would Leo not dealing with Elliot’s death affect the story?? So many questions, but we’ll never really get an answer, cos all his potential was cut way too short.

Your point wasn’t about Elliot in particular but- I took the opportunity and ran with it- still! Overall, your point, exactly. I guess that’s the thing about any good “bad guy”? They’re not good because of the things they did, but they have something to try and explain away their actions. Something that shaped them up to becoming who they are-? Taking them at face value, ignoring their history, it made their deaths easy to handle, aside from Elliot for established reasons, and for Headhunter reasons cos that’s simply... tragic in and of itself. But, thinking about it, it really is sad that they all died off- they had no opportunity to become good guys. No redemption arc for a really, really tragic family. Tho with their pride, they may not have accepted the chance to have one-??

Put even shorter: Once again, Jack Vessalius strikes, ruining the lives of generations to come <3

#LSHSKDJDJD I don’t even think I followed your point exactly but #I do know what you mean and I do wholeheartedly agree #overall: Nightray family had it r e a l l y bad and sort of adapted to that hate?? but also are jerks for some unrelated reasons #torterrachampion #also the energy rush I get when there’s an opportunity to talk about pandora hearts is. pitiful- perhaps-#ANYWAY thank you for (tho I doubt it was the goal) letting me rant about Elliot #and for letting me get thoughts out cos 👍 there’s so many in my head and like. 80% are about pandora hearts #pandora hearts #man I feel like I make even less sense than last time but- it’s fiiiiiine

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mantra4ia · 3 years

Text

Debris: speculation and what we know so far about...

Bryan

The character is from Texas, has no siblings, and his parents are both alive.

He served in MARSOC (Marine Special Forces) in Afghanistan, where he was in a military prison in some capacity (officer or detainee unclear, but an alternate reality he's called a war criminal, so he's likely detained).

FWIW, I'm a little surprised that in an alternative reality Bryan wasn't a part of Influx. He shares a similar kind of backstory with Anson Ash.

He carries a baseball on the plane like a momento stress ball (1x03).

He eats...a lot, literally thinks with his stomach, seemingly indiscriminately (#you could just pull up a chair to the buffet). Stale Peeps, weeks old sandwiches, rewarmed burritos, anything from the minibar, etc. Maybe he was a smoker in the time before and it killed his sense of taste. Or he just has an iron stomach from his time on active duty. In any case, food seems to be his unconditional OTP. I request a GIF supercut.

He seems to know a bunch of field operatives (Lester, Sharon, John the ME, Muntz, Beck from containment) from various Orbital teams, perhaps even worked cases with a few, along with everyone in Maddox's office. He's very cordial so presumably he likes them, but in stark contrast at least half seem to decidedly dislike him with baiting antagonism, some openly hostile. Sharon: "why are you smirking at me Bryan?" Muntz, the Laghari lab tech: "I've come across plenty like you...men who play by their own rules." Beck: "They only send in the A-team when they want the agents to survive...easy for you to say, I'm the one who had to tell his wife". No wonder he feels a bit ostracized. Perhaps his reputation (impulsive?) proceeds him or perhaps he's been labeled an "unlucky" partner that misfortune follows so he gets kept at a distance?

The exception to the above seems to be Gary Garcia, the former scientist that helps hide George. May be former partners if the audio during credit rolls is any indication, and knows about Bryan's health / injections. They appear close. Perhaps because they share a mentality: both presumably injured in their line of work at Orbital, and they know what it means to have to rely on yourself.

When we meet Finola and Bryan, it seems like they've been working together for a few weeks, stateside at least (Finola's quote 1x02: Been here 3 weeks, feels like 3 years) and that he's had at least two Orbital partners prior, one (Julian / Jules) that died on duty, and the other creepy Dutch guy still living, Niels. How many more partners has he been through? Is it protocol that they get reassigned/shuffled so often to follow the debris, or so as not to form attachments "This job is about being alone, it's supposed to be...we're a blip in other people's lives", or does his personality not play well with others, like from the pilot when he tells Finola "it's been a long time since I've worked with somebody who's looked at me like another human being."

Also in 1x01 when Bryan says, "So are we now saying the debris pulled [Kieran] from the ground and added meat to his bones" and Finola says no, he was cremated, Bryan looks almost disappointed like he was momentarily more hopeful than pragmatic. At first I thought this was just a lead up to introducing the fact that George Jones was alive, but maybe another plot point is that Bryan has lost someone in duty he wants back.

He carries a picture in his front pocket of a woman with some Persian/ Farsi(?) or Urdu(?) written on the back. It's hard to tell by the script, it could be neither. When confronted by that, his clone says "I can't let it go." Old flame that was lost? Or a partner of a fallen service member killed in action —I've lost brothers— that he couldn't save (is that part of Bryan's dark guilt / grief)? Civilian casualty of a Marine mission? In the pilot when he tells Isla "you have to tell her how much you need her, I know from experience...You will not be able to forgive yourself if you don't" is Bryan thinking of this woman?

EDIT: considering the next episode is called "Asalah," which could be a woman's name, maybe that's part of the text on the back of the photo. Pure speculation.

He counts on himself to be level and composed when it comes to his emotions and apologizes when he isn't. He loses that composure in the pilot when Isla talks about family therapy and fighting with her mother after Kieran's death: "I knew someone like her once." Was Bryan referring to himself, has he been through post-service therapy? Perhaps he developed a rift with his family or left home at an early age like she did?

Bryan would be great at pub trivia night. He always seems to have an odd fact ready about NASA tech, native legends, an article about a historical building that he read, Fleetwood PA, etc. He doesn't seem the type to keep facts on standby to impress, so perhaps he's a secret bibliophile even though Finola hassles him for not reading case files.

"Fin: Maybe we should run some more tests before we continue/ Bryan: I will cut bait if you want to / Fin; let's just look out for each other" 1x02 Bryan seems more cautious than impulsive, he does a good job of listening to Finola's concerns. Is that from experience? Did he get overconfident, mishandle debris, and get permanently injured, hence the frequent blood work and injections?

"This man saved my life." Why does Bryan trust Maddox implicitly? And when Maddox says in 1x07 "Investigate quietly. I want to keep the lights off. I don't want to lose anymore lives, Bryan, okay?" is that a word of warning specially for him? Does he have a body count? (see afforementioned question of frequent work partners turnover and having an unlucky reputation)

Bryan in protective of Finola when the CIA taps her apartment. It's the straw that turns his allegiance from his agency to his partner.

I still can't place why Bryan carries a baseball — it seems like it could be a red herring, but I can't get over the visual of Maddox playing catch with Dario and reading into it as some sort of surrogate bond — or why he has a chain around his neck (1x05). It's not service tags and probably not a ring, it's some kind of pendant: a large loop encircling a dull, perhaps tarnished, gray metallic disc. A patron saint? A piece of shrapnel? A piece of debris? Unclear, but it definitely has texture or an etching.

Top Bryan Quotes

"That's the job. Impossible." 1x01 Pilot

"We are supposed to be blips in these people's lives, not memories." 1x04 In Universe

"It's been a long time since I've worked with somebody who's looked at me like another human being." 1x01

"Zippo lighters, Pyrex glassware, Crayola crayons, and of course Peeps. Insane for peeps, cracklike...we owe the people of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania a great deal of gratitude and I am not afraid to say it." 1x02 You Are Not Alone

"I've been thinking, [about] Finola.. if MI6 knew her father was still alive they would take her out of here. We need to get home before this becomes an issue...this is going to affect her." 1x03 Solar Winds, when he's not sure how her father will affect her empathetic-based decision-making

Craig: "You hated the creepy Dutch guy." / Bryan: "He was adorable."

"Well, one of my tips for survival, Muntz, is always let the other guy touch the debris first." 1x03 So is that what happened to Garcia?

To Finola "I realize I tend to forget that there's still magic to discover in the world. But not you." 1x03

"There are things that you understand about life that I don't, and I respect that. But there are things that I know that you will not find very palatable...I am going to focus on the people that we're saving and not the ones that we can't." 1x04

"If we don't act, we might not be able to stop the terraforming. There's no way we're going to be able to win all these, and I know that every cell in your body right now is screaming for you to do what you think is right. I need you to go against that. I need you to trust me." 1x04

"Finola's capable. I trust her instincts." 1x08 Spaceman

"I'm running on sugar and coffee for the rest of the day" 1x07 You Can Call Her Caroline, but really isn't that Bryan everyday?

"When I tell you that I understand, it's not empty...I lost brothers. It destroys families. There are people who can help you with what you're going through right now...There is a way to get back from this pain. I was where you were, and the darkness almost ended me. And somebody put out his hand... I want to be there for you." 1x07

"I'm trying to get back to someone. It's very important to me." 1x09 Do You Know Icarus?

#nbc debris #bryan beneventi #character study #finola jones #craig maddox #sci fi #also shout-out to his Jay Kulina Elvis glasses in 1x04 #can somebody read that photo?#renew Debris

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wheredostarsgowhenyoudie · 3 years

Text

I know of a heart like yours.

The sickening sound of a heart being crashed

The animated laughter that sounded demented

The shivers and chills that tear from morning to night, then back again.

I know everything, kid.

I know how it feels to be breathing, but feel like the dead.

To have your eyes open and be reminded of what's no longer there

To miss someone so bad, they keep you lost in dreams

You can't hide anything from me.

I've been there.

I'm still there.

"What happened to you, kid?" You ask, and I stare.

How could I answer that without breaking?

Your haunted eyes pierce mine. The pain in them was so like my own, that I would have lost my footing if you weren't holding me.

I search for whatever strength was left inside of me, but the tears still flowed.

"You made me lose you."

CHAPTER ONE - WHO AM I TO YOU?

Sometimes the worst distractions do not come from the outside. They come from within you, and nothing anyone can do or say can pull your attention away from the invisible storm that only you can feel.

Peter Parker's heart is about to explode into a billion pieces of combustible dust. His head hurts. His throat feels dry and he could swear his saliva tastes like gravel in his mouth. His shoulders are bent and his legs and feet are firmly stuck to the ground, the weight of everyone's expectations keeping his whole body still, too still that not even Happy's murmured "Are you okay kid?" can bring him back out of the orchestrated walls created by his own mind.

He stays rigid, head bowed and eyes unblinking and blurry with unshed tears.

Blinding camera lights keep flashing all around him, the reporters rapidly firing their questions without pause. Pepper, Happy and Rhodey and the SI security team try their best to pacify them, but their efforts are in vain.

"Were you aware that Tony Stark planned to make you his successor?"

"What does it feel like to be the legacy of the saviour of the universe?"

"Mr. Parker, what are your plans for the future of SI?"

"Are you planning to be the next Iron Man?"

"Before the reading of Tony Stark's will, no one's ever heard of Peter Parker. Can you tell us why?"

"Why did Tony Stark hide you from the world?"

"Who are you to Iron Man?"

"How did you know Iron Man?"

"Why did Tony Stark choose you as his successor?"

"Do the Avengers know about you?"

"Peter, Peter, come on! Kid, we need to go," Rhodey's voice was pleading as he tries to usher them out while Happy shields them with his body.

Pepper urges the crowd to give them a path, going as far as to threaten them with lawsuits but they wouldn't even bulge.

Peter stays frozen through all the commotion.

Every breath feels like Thor's hammer plunging straight into his chest. Every second feels like an eternity too long. It would have stayed until…

"Mr. Parker, do you intend to follow your pseudo father's steps?"

Peter drew a gasp then, to everyone's shock and excitement.

His chin lifted from being glued to his chest, and his head turned to the reporter who asked.

The crowd quieted and they all waited in stunned silence as they were greeted with his red brimmed eyes, tears still fresh and pouring down his cheeks.

None of them expected the hollow laugh that came out of him.

How could they?

They couldn't possibly know that all these are news to him.

Peter knew nothing, thought he was nothing more than an annoying protégé to the man who apparently saw him as a son.

Peter didn't even know Tony Stark cared about him that way. He'd always let himself believe the man had only acted out of pity.

But now he knows, and he wanted to scream at how unfair it is to be told all these after the man had died.

He died for you.

He invented time travel because of you.

He risked it all for you.

He wouldn't have died if it weren't for you.

The voices inside his head are back with vengeance and Peter swayed and would have fallen without Rhodey there to steady him.

"You're going to be alright kid. We're going to bring you home safe and sound," the iron patriot promised in the same soft tone that everyone who knows his true relationship with Tony had been using since the end of the Infinity War.

Peter nodded but didn't speak. He could tell Rhodey believes his words, but Peter doesn't.

All his life, Peter's never really been a good liar. But this lie, even just thinking it is too much. He just couldn't.

"To Peter, my son…" the lawyer had said back in the boardroom as he read the last will and testament of Anthony Edward Stark.

"…I leave all my techs and Stark Industries, the latter to be received when you've graduated college and under the mentoring of my wife, Pepper Stark…"

"You back with us kid?" Happy's voice asked him this time, and he blinked to see that they had somehow managed to get him inside the limousine.

Peter bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood.

How could he be alright?

And where even is home?

He didn't even know he had one since May died. He felt barely alive when Tony took him in to live in the Tower. Even then, it had taken a while and a lot of angry outbursts from him, and patience from the man before Peter finally started to feel like he could build up the broken pieces of his life again. And then the fucking Infinity War happened and now…Now.

The glass shatters.

The car screeches to a halt.

Peter had punched the window, glass shards embedded in his hand when he pulled it back. Pepper shrieked in horror, while the men cursed.

Happy was yelling to get him out for some air, but Peter couldn't hear them, too busy having a panic attack.

"Breathe kid. Breathe with us," Rhodey encouraged. "You can do this. Just like Tony taught you, Peter. You got this kid. Do this for him."

And Peter breathed as if those were the magic words.

Because of course, he would. How could he not?

He'd do everything for Tony.

But Tony's gone now.

Just like his parents.

Just like his Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

And now Peter has no one.

For a boy who is no stranger to loss, this feels like the last straw keeping what's left of his sanity intact.

There are so many words he wanted to say to Tony, so many things he wanted to do with the man.

Now, he could only wonder what it feels like to be able to call Tony Stark "Dad" to his face.

He could have done it before, he supposes. He could have done so many things if only he'd known the man had adopted him and made him his legitimate heir.

But no one had ever told him. And just like every time, the universe was adamant to mess with his head and see him crumble.

Peter didn't even know he was more than a charity case to the man he saw as his mentor and hero.

Every time Tony did something parental for him, Peter thanked him but stomped down on the warmth inside his own chest. He convinced himself to believe it was all business for the man. Peter is Spider-Man. And Iron Man needed Peter to be Spider-Man so they could help save the world from chaos.

But Tony had made sure to let him know that he cared for Peter Parker as well. He never said it out loud, but Peter felt it evey time he'd ask about his day, about his friends, his classes and everything else important to him that isn't related to his alter ego. Tony had made sure to show up at his contests. He'd cheered for him and even treated him and his friends for a job well done. The man had spent nights in his room to calm him down from nightmares. He'd been there when he was sick, when he was wounded, when he was sad.

Peter was a mess, but Tony had been there for him to make sure he wasn't alone.

There were many times Peter wanted to cry to him, and just thank him for doing everything he'd been doing for him. But Peter held himself back. He held back because thanking Tony would give a name to their new normal. It would have overwhelmed him with a sense of family, and that more than anything, was the label that scares Peter the most.

Everyone he loved, everyone he saw as family, he had lost. And he couldn't do that to Tony.

Peter couldn't find it in him to believe that the man cared for him, truly loved him like family, in fear of adding a name to his long list of losses.

But he lost him anyway.

To Peter, my son, Tony had called him in his will, having chosen him as family if the adoption papers were anything to go by.

It was everything Peter had secretly wanted but never once believed he could have again.

But he had it. Apparently, he had even if he hadn't known.

Peter feels like a curse.

He really doesn't deserve to have anyone on his corner.

If Tony hadn't adopted him, he could have saved himself from the Peter curse.

Why did he even adopt him in the first place?

Why did he take him in?

He could have just offered money and paid for an apartment, but no. Tony insisted that Peter lived with him. And now he's dead because of Peter.

Tony Stark is dead, and Peter Parker's left trying to pick up the pieces left of his tattered heart and soul.

It's not even his first death of a family member, and yet this feels ten times worse for some reason he couldn't identify.

Mary and Richard Parker were lost in the plane crash when he was six. Ben Parker died in the mugging when he was fifteen. Then May Parker followed in a car accident a year later, half a year after he became Spider-Man.

You'd think that after four losses, Peter would be used to it by now.

But damn it all, he still isn't.

Losing someone never gets any easier no matter how many times it happened to him.

Thanos came with his army. The Snap happened and Peter died along with half the universe. Then it was reversed and Peter was brought back with all his fellow victims.

Peter had been shocked by Tony's reaction at seeing him alive. Tony Stark didn't cry. But at that moment, Peter felt his tears of joy and relief as he'd pulled him into a hug.

We're there, it screams. Like an echo in a whole room of silence, and for a second, only for a second, there was no war but only them. People broken and lost, but together, were mended by each other's presence.

If Peter had known how much the man cared for him then he would have hugged him tighter and not let go. But he hadn't and now he couldn't hug his mentor ever again.

Hours later after their short reunion, Anthony Edward Stark died saving the world and Peter feels like he died with him.

"Sssssh," whispered the soothing voice of Pepper as she pulled him into her arms. Peter could barely hear her through the noise of his guttural cries.

If only he was more conscious of his surroundings, he would have seen the pitying looks of the small crowd forming around them, would have heard his broken voice as he cried out the same word at the universe that took away everything he'd ever loved.

"Dad!" he sobbed, burying his face in Pepper's shoulder. "Bring him back! God, please bring him back!"

The rain started pouring.

The pain didn't stop.

Peter heard the voice again.

It never will.

A/N: Read the next chapters in the link below. Please don't forget to comment and leave kudos! 💞

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332137/chapters/66779947

#irondad and spiderson #irondad #avengers #peter parker #tony stark #spiderson #peter parker and tony stark #prepare to cry

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g-lbertblythe · 3 years

Text

Television Heaven // Rafe Cameron

Summary: As the each day passes, you fall for Rafe Cameron solemnly and irretrievably.

A/N: This song made me think of Rafe. Actually, I was thinking of Rafe then I started to listen to this one. Anyway, I was planning on something different but it got out of control. So it has really nothing to do with the song. Hope you enjoy anyway.

It might contain grammar and spelling mistakes cuz it's not my native language.

Every move you made, you made after long considerations, with caution. You questioned every little detail, calculating every probable outcome so strictly, sometimes you end up missing the chance to carry it into action. Just because you didn't want to find yourself in a situation that would make you embarrass and hurt yourself or just would make you feel something, you always choose the right and short way to do things. The logical one but the one no flowers grow. You held yourself back when you encountered with something so beautiful that may change your life, you just refused it, ignored it because you wouldn't know what to do with it. You ran away from anything in sight that may make you an idiot for doing it or make you weak, helpless; therefore you stayed away from anything unsolvable, complicated even. You didn't know everytime you ran away, you come closer the edge of falling apart. You've lived your life so guardedly, you've actually never lived. You come to understand that you never made any effect on your life, never pushed the buttons of the controlling panel of your life although you always tried to keep everything on your control. You didn't make things happened, things only happened to you. The day you became aware of this ugly truth, you also discovered a hole inside you. A hole which you use to suffocate any heavy, intense sensation you might feel. Now, it was the one taking control of you.

Lately, everyone around you was able to notice that something's wrong with you. Changed, you looked like you were fading away. You were disappearing more and more, the each day you realize the things you didn't do or things you wanted to say but never said. Because any time you don't say what you wanna say, you die a little. And you died very. Reminiscing the moments you stole from yourself pushed you an edge and you were standing the very edge, unsteady. One day you lose your balance, you start falling and you've been falling since.

The strong liquor on your lips never dried, you kept sipping one after another. You were never drunk on life before, you might actually get drunk at least. You were tired of filling your glass constantly, you left the glass on Camerons' table and head for the bottle.

"Are you okay?" Kiara asks hesitantly. She noticed something was off recently but she didn't think it will last this long. Normally nothing would affect you so long. But now, something in your eyes was missing and she didn't know what was it. She wanted to help you but didn't know how because you never needed any help before.

"Yeah, " you smiled to her slightly so she could see you can still do it and it was okay. The problem was your lips and your eyes didn't match. "You?"

She just nodded as an answer but the suspicions she had was still there. She didn't want you to be alone so when you refused to hang out at the beach with the rest of the gang, she came with you to the kitchen. But you knew, she wanted to be out there so you should gett her off the hook.

"Hey, " you said to draw her attention. "Let's head outside. I am bored here sitting."

"You sure?" She asked. "You wanted to come inside?"

You smiled, forcibly, lately every smile you gave was like that. "Yes. It turned out to be a bad idea. "

"Okay, " she said when she got up, you had to also. She was ready to walk away before you stopped her. "I'm going to hit the bathroom first. You go. "

She looked at you unsurely. "I'll wait."

You laughed, you were a little lightheaded from standing up swiftly but you didn't drink enough to get drunk yet. But she thought you were. You wished you were too. "I can pee just okay without you waiting, Kie. Tell them I'm coming and determined to drink whatever out there."

Eventually, she ended up leaving you and as soon as she was gone, you let yourself fall on the sofa again. You just needed few minutes before you head outside.

The Pogues have started becoming the huge part of your life not so long ago. You think the awareness hit you just after you met them because they were the most animated people you've met. They were full of spirit although some of their lives weren't always bed of roses, still they managed the find attraction and beauty in other things. You admired them before, now you envied.

The cold hit you as soon as you stepped outside but you liked feeling the breeze on your bare arms. The cold was all you feel anyway. You knew exactly where your friends at, before worrying Kiara any longer, you made your way to them before you saw of a guy that one beer bottle in his hand and the other hand in his pocket. Watching your friend from afar. You pushed the urge of considering if you should go near him or not. You were going because you didn't go so many times before.

"Hey, " you let him know of your arrival. His upper body moves to face you only to see you looking at him with your unfinished bottle on your hand. He turned back to keep watching his sister and the junk she brought along with her. He never ever liked them and he never will but he had to behave because his father told him to. Rafe could only behave himself to a certain extent. He tried to stop himself making their life like hell but failed so many times that you forgot how many times you had to stop himself from hurting your new friends. He was mad at Sarah bringing them into your lives and he was mad at you for joining in this quest and defying him about this matter. You knew Rafe felt like the Pogues were the ones blame for everything that goes wrong in his life and almost anything he does and and he has goes wrong. Yet he was almost sure they were guilty of everything that happened. He had a temper and an addiction that makes it worse. He was confused and lost in so many ways, he was all over the place. Regarding the fact he wants do right by his family, friends and by you, he always and always ends up doing the worst of there is. Rafe's choices was never right and until that moment, you couldn't picture yourself being jealous of him because still, he had a say in what he had done with his life. The kind of life you regret having maybe, however with the pills mostly, he thinks nobody has it right but him.

Rafe was angry at his father, at himself and at you. He was angry at everything. He no longer knew what has left for him anymore. He has never received anything from his father but the disappointment he caused him. The things used to be his now was taken over by others. His part of the island, his so called values, his friends even and you too. Rafe knew you for so long although you were almost distant with everybody, you shared a huge deal of time together. Mostly because you had close family relationships and Kooks hanged out together all the time until his little sister violates that rule.

"Your new friends turned you into an alcoholic, huh?"

He said coldly as possible, still bitter about you stood between him and JJ Maybank and chose him over him. Well, he didn't expect you to be on his side because you would never. You had principles or some kind of shit he lacks, however he didn't expect you to be on his side too.

"My oldest friends couldn't turn me into an crackhead, I thought I might as well try this one." You said, trying to sound as cold as him but you couldn't make it last so long. "You look like you hadn't drown yourself in snow."

He faced you. "Yet."

You smiled looking at the ground and it was a real one. Rafe was frustrated to so many and sometimes to you but you like to talk to him sometimes. All the time, probably. You didn't know exact amount because you started avoiding being around him for too long after sometime in your life. Because you felt your heart pounding in your chest in a way that so weird as he talks to you and looks at you a little too long. You couldn't take the risk of acknowledging that feeling and letting it grow.

"No lectures about how I shouldn't do it?" Rafe asked you surprisedly. Because he wouldn't hear the end of it generally.

"Would you take them seriously?" You said. Somehow, you felt like grinning like a idiot and you didn't stop yourself from doing it. You asked him, one brow lifted up, playfully. Not like the times you fake being playfull. For real.

As you talk to him, he was about to forget he was mad at you. He grinned at your way. "Nah."

And the way he smiled it was so deadly, but he felt so heavenly just like that.

"You see, I've learned my lessons." You say to him and he just shrugges.

Rafe wasn't the type to approach people with an passive aggressive attitude. He would go with full active. But tonight, what he felt the most was so sickening feeling like sorrow but not, destructive one like hatred which he usually feels most. Therefore he looked calmer outside but the war was going inside his mind and his chest. Yeah sometimes even he had one of those melancholic days.

You felt uneasy as he wasn't even looking at your way to answer. It was like you didn't get what you came here for. He just stood there, making you wondering what he was thinking of at the moment.

Your eyes caught JJ, looking worried as his eyes searched for you in the crowd then they found you. He paced towards to you, seeing Rafe, he thought you might need to be saved from him. "Hey, where've you been?" He asked you after he sent brief glares to Rafe and he recieved the same ones in return. "We were waiting for you."

Rafe felt so regarded before by everyone else, he knew you would have gone. Again.

"You coming?" JJ had to ask as you didn't say anything.

"I think I'll stay here for now. " You sounded so clear that although Rafe was surprised that you wanted to stay, he didn't think he heard you wrong.

"Are you sure?" He said and couldn't stop himself from looking at Rafe. Rafe hated that look and the way he was being protective of you like he would hurt you.

"She said she'll stay, didn't she? Beat it."

JJ turned to Rafe, his jaw clenching in anger. "I don't remember talking to you man. " He sounded hostile as possible.

As Rafe took a step towards to him, JJ was also ready to pick up another fight so he didn't hold himself back.

"Hey, hey!" You had to step in and pushed them away from each other but it was hard because they were always so willing to beat each other up.

"I'm tired of doing this again and again. " You left your hand on Rafe's chest but didn't move the one on JJ's, the one also holding the bottle. He didn't have much common sense either but still was better than Rafe. "I'm sorry to ditch you guys but I need to talk to Rafe."

JJ had seconds thoughts but he left you eventually. Rafe went back to being silent and didn't even ask you what was you wanted to talk him although he wondered.

"You had to be the alpha, didn't you?" You asked just to hear him answering.

"This is my house, I am the fucking alpha here." He spits nearly. He tried his everything to not make a scene but it was a hard battle he had fought inside. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him, the way he's so annoyingly silent and the way he looks so mad but hurt at the same time was confusing you. You couldn't know you either hate him or hug him so tightly that he should never feel broken again. You knew all he did, he did it to make everyone around you to love him.

"Are you angry with me?"

"Is this what you wanted talk about?" He stares at you, answering your question bothers him so he doesn't.

"No." You said. No use of him confirming his anger, it was obvious.

"Just cut the to chase then. Your boyfriend waits for you."

You reached for the cup in his hands and it took him by surprise. "He's not my boyfriend." You said as his eyes widened by the sudden move from you, trailed your hand until you threw the cup to the ground. Then they turned to see your expression to figure out what you up to. You were a little too close.

"What are you doing?" He asked slightly angrily, slightly astonishedly. His pink, soft lips moved so beautifully, you had hard times focusing on his eyes.

"I want you to be sober for this."

You smiled as you grabbed his hand that held the cup the seconds ago. He was baffled by your soft touch, something was different about you tonight.

You pulled him with you and he didn't move at first as he tried to make sense of what you are doing. This was as strange to him as it was to you because your remember how many times you avoided being close to him. When you were talking to him casually or you were fighting with him, you felt so uncomfortable when you get too close to him. He was like this stunning and mesmerizing thing you felt his energy all over you but if you touched him or stay too close, you would get burned. How many times you wanted to hug him, hold his hand, pat his shoulders but you just didn't...

"What are you doing?" He asked, you had a loose grip on his hand and as you two moved swiftly, he was scared that it might break off. "Where are we going Y/N?"

"Be patient just for once."

And he had to be, however he never liked not knowing what's coming for him.

"Are you drunk?" Rafe said as soon as you stopped in front of him, making it to your destination. His eyes wandered around the balcony to see If there's something he sould notice but he's missing. But there were only you and him.

You rolled at your eyes the fact everyone's assuming you're drunk when you never felt so sober and wide awake before until now.

"No, Rafe. I am not." You even left your bottle at the beach.

"Why did you bring me here?"

You had to let go of his hands but your eyes never left his face. There was something with him that you could never understand before. You look at him and never want to see anything else. You could watch him for hours and days and still wouldn't want to look away. How foolish you would sound if you said these out loud.

Rafe waited for an answer but all you did was stare at him blankly.

"Why are you being weird Y/N? You high?"

You walked towards to the edge and left him behind you but turned away to see him, leaning back on the parapets. You had this idiotic smile on your face that just can't go away when you see him. You kept it hidden all this time but no longer fight the feeling.

"No. I am not drunk. I am not high. How many times I have to repeat myself?" You didn't sound sarcastic or angry, on the contrary Rafe found your tone extremely cheerful and it left more confused with the the situation.

"But you don't seem that way. " He admitted. The girl he knows was earnest, restrained and would do what what expected from her. It was annoying to him time to time because you were perfect example people-his father- gives when how he should be like. You were decent and kind, type of person who knows what to say to the people older than you. You were more relaxed and fun when you were with close friends. He liked that you could do it many ways but he always found you hard to get to. You would only let people in -or only him to the some point and would just go ice after that point. You were sharp with your words too If you wanted to and would know where to hurt when you want to hurt somebody but you only did to him once or twice. Probably they were the only times you actually went so cruel with anybody and Rafe was the only person could enrage anyone despite of how calm this person is. Rafe thought you had a side that you kept in secret and he was aware and impressed by that.

Now, you stood there, your hands on the parapets and your head tilted to your side with a small smile on the corner of your lips. You didn't look that weird but the energy you radiate was most peculiar.

He looked up and down. "You seem different."

The way he sound was like a melody. "How come?"

He only shrugged his shoulders and watched you giggle, breaking the silent night with it. You didn't know why you did it, it just got out of you.

Rafe took a step towards you, his eyes squinted with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Oh my God, could you just stop it? I am fine Rafe. "

"Then speak. Why did you bring me here? You're acting insane as fuck." He was impatient now and you were a little upset he thinks you are insane. So being out of your character just for a night and even he thinks you're insane. Your mood was spoiled.

"You can leave If you want. I didn't bring you here to fight. "

You sounded hurt and he couldn't comprehend how did you get too sensitive. You would scream at each other and you wouldn't even fling.

"Okay," he said to ease the tension. "Just tell me why are we here."

His words didn't bring your cheerful attitude back but you still continued. "Do you remember the summer two years ago? You and Sarah stayed here when Rose and your dad went to Caribbean's along with Wheezie?"

Rafe nodded slowly, wondering about why the hell you were bringing this up. "Yeah, we threw the biggest party this island has ever seen." He said little proud with himself.

He hoped the way he chuckles would make you all giggly again but you kept a straight face.

"It had started as fancy party at first. Sarah and I really wanted it to be like Midsummers because we wanted to feel like grownups in our fancy clothes." You smiled softly with remembering all of this. "And Topper was down with the idea because he wanted attention from Sarah. We even convinced you to it."

"And I remember we end up trashing the house at the end of the night though. "

"It was a mess." you said with a small smile that was gone so quickly. You approached to him slowly, with a serious look on your face that finally resembles to your normal self. "Do you remember you put on your dad's tuxedo and it was short for you because you became a giant that year?"

Rafe nodded firmly he was nervous of your serious expression. Now, you were only a step ahead of him and you were searching for something in him that he had no idea what. "I do." He brows squinted. "I had to take it off."

" You put on your ball cap when everyone wore a bow-tie." You smiled sadly, when you remember it hurt how good he looked that night. You'd remember him like that way forever.

"You were too drunk that night. I don't think you remember and it probably didn't matter to you," you cleaned your lips with your tongue. "We were here, alone, and you told me I looked beautiful in my sundress that night."

You felt a warn sensation on your cheek and your vision got blurred before you realize you are crying. You didn't know why because you finally felt so relieved you got this out of your chest. "And I couldn't forget that moment how much I tried to. "

Tears kept falling from your eyes, not matter how hard you tried to keep them in. You were tired from deceiving yourself about Rafe and pretending like you don't feel the way you do. Keeping this hidden from him and yourself. And you hated that you're crying and being so emotional and vulnerable now.

You wiped the tears and able to stop yourself although when you finally managed to look at Rafe, your vision wasn't all clear.

He looked at you as If you are not real. When you didn't get any reaction from Rafe, you were ready to drown yourself in bottles. You couldn't believe how stupid and naive you became in a week. This was the reason you never told him. This was the situation you didn't want to put yourself in. Just like that, a tear warmed your cheek again.

Rafe reached for your cheek, cupped it in his hand hesitantly. His heart shattered when you cried. And it was because of him. His hands left you naked, staring at him and wishing you were dead.

"How can you like me?" He asked, the words didn't almost make it out of his mouth and you weren't able to see his blurry blue eyes because of your own.

You cried a little more to his words. It hurt you how he thought he was unlovable. Yes he was mean, confused and a total mess but he was so much more. Maybe he didn't knew what to say or what to do all the time, maybe everything he did was wrong but he had good intentions. He was damaged and wounded by so many places. He was chaotic, problematic and it was probably wrong to mant to like him. Yes it was hard to love him but you did love him with every inch of your body and soul. You put your hand on his cheek and his skin underneath your palm was the smoothest things you ever touched before.

"You're beautiful, Rafe." You said and you just didn't know how to explain the way you feel. It was too much, too powerful.

"No." He stepped back, shaking his head side to side. He just couldn't believe you. You... of all people, knew how bitter he is and liked him? You were amazing and breathtaking in so many ways, you could do so much more and deserve so much better. And he was wretched soul, not even his father loved him. How could you possibly do?

"Don't fuck with me, okay?" He was angry at you playing with his mind like this. You were being cruel again, hitting where it hurts. "You don't." He said it like it is impossible for someone to love him because somehow, it was for everybody around him.

"I do."

He looked at you like you committed an unspeakable crime. Like you were trying to deceive him into that he has what he always seeked for. "Don't fucking lie to me. You don't." He said and a tear fell from his eyes. "You.." he had to take a deep breath to continue. You... A creation that is above him. "You can't."

If he only knew how he made you feel. If he knew how many times you pushed back the thoughts of him when they suddenly came to you and made your days unbearable. How you convinced yourself that he doesn't mean anything to you and felt sick in your stomach when you saw him with another girl and wished it was you instead. He had a possession in your heart without his knowledge and today was the day that part declared its freedom.

"But I do, Rafe. I spent so much thinking that it's nothing, thinking it is wrong, but I just do. I don't care if it is anymore, Rafe. I always tried to do what's right, it got me nowhere. If this is wrong, then I don't wanna be right."

You brushed his hair back and he was breathing heavily in your face. "Don't push me away." You whispered. "Please."

"I might never be this brave again." You kissed him, slowly made your lips as one. His skin burned you when his lips felt like heaven. When he gently kissed you back, you felt like nothing in this world could make you feel better than this.

Although you needed him more than the air your lungs lacked, you had to pull away. Your breaths melded with each other and now you got a taste of it, you didn't want to stop. Your lips once more was intertwined with his and they danced softly on yours. As your movements became more passionate, he followed you replacing his hands on both of your cheeks and pushing himself closer to you as if that was even an option, If it were, you'd do it sooner.

You wanted more and more. The scary truth that's been invading thoughts had no chance of fighting with the desire you were burning with. Him not loving you back as you do love him would kill you tomorrow but tonight you were born again.

#outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe obx #obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine

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flowerbloom-arts · 3 years

Text

Well uh, thank you @boorishbint for leaving these lovely tags on my post, otherwise I wouldn't have spent, like, almost two hours striaght writing a 1134 word fic depicting an inner monologue by dear old Hodgkins himself and 12 minutes coloring one of my doodles from the original post. I deeply admire your work and I hope that this is atleast enjoyable to you in any sort of capacity.

Cw: death mention (please ask me to add more if needed)

And as I sat on the armchair, book in lap, I stare at it and wonder why this could've possibly happened. My own brother and the love of his life, deceased, with his son left to be in my care. I feel... I'm not quite sure how I feel. It's always been rather difficult for someone such as myself to simply understand my own thoughts, I don't exactly have the ability to articulate these things. I've turned to the tangible things in life when my own abstractions fail me, there seems to be a maze in the back of my throat that makes it difficult to speak more than a few words and I've been so used to my younger brother interpreting my intentions for me, it seemed remarkable how easy it came to him. Now he's gone, I'm left behind for good, with a mere 8 year old sleeping on the sofa next to me. It's almost baffling to me how fate could twist a situation like this and not make it obvious who or what it favours, all I know is, it's not in my favour. I had come to terms that I may never fall for anyone in my life unlike my brother who seemed to take chances with any woman he happened to fancy, it was almost a relief that he found his metaphorical princess after kissing so many frogs, like that one fairytale but backwards, but now it's been a decade since that muddler from across the sea came and had their hearts stolen by the other, and now they're simply... Gone, and I'm still wondering to myself on if there is going to be a funeral for them or not, my brother seemed to not have quite the roster of friendships and any relative of his wife is a complete and utter mystery to me, just like everything else about that Confounder. For someone who has an extremely chatty brother and attended his wedding you'd think I'd know more about that strange thing, but no, just like everything else it appears to be part of this grand yet cruel joke that had it's climax just a week ago and I discovered the punchline just about an hour ago.

What am I to do now? What am I to do with my nephew? I can't simply leave him to an orphanage, I hear they're rather cruel places, so I suppose the other option is taking care of him myself. It'd be too odd for someone unrelated to care for him when his uncle is literally right here, I've already been doing it for the past 5 days since I discovered him starving in an oversized american coffee tin for 2 days since spring cleaning was supposed to start, I might as well. There really isn't anything to lose if I do, is there? Only problem is that I don't exactly understand other people, children especially, and I've never been familiar with his species in the slightest. Muddlers are a very rare sight if they do in fact live anywhere near here and not just across the atlantic, I might need to do a bit of research before I understand anything about parenting or muddlers as a whole. I might also need to find a partner to help care for him, but that seems far too daunting for me, there are far too many factors to list...

I am in completely unfamiliar territory here, it's almost laughable how all these pieces culminated into a situation I could never even dream of being in, it's a nightmare scenario if I were to be honest. And thinking this, I realize now that I'm feeling... Uncertain. Scared. Hopeless perhaps- things I'm lead to believe comes with parenting, except the circumstances are simply much worse than what would've ever been described to me, so much worse. I have yet to think about what to tell this child when he wakes up for goodness' sake, what am I to tell him? I could keep my mouth shut but eventually he'll pester me with questions if my lack of response bothers him, I will admit he is his father's son from what I could tell of him. Telling him his parents died is far too harsh, does he even understand what death is? Am I going to have to explain what death is to an 8 year old child? He was crying over a button getting lost under a drawer, I can't imagine the devastation he'd feel for something like this! I myself am already devastated at this, I can't handle such a thing right now! And that only leaves lying to his face about it, a white lie, sure, but a lie nonetheless. I'm nowhere near creative enough for something like that, I'm so bad at acting it'd be a miracle if he were to believe me.

Think, Samuel, think! You're supposed to be the smart one, academically gifted, aspiring inventor, why in the bloody hell can't you think of anything good to say to a child? You were a child once, surely you should know how you'd feel if anything about this sort of situation was said to you! But you were a strange child in comparison to others- your nephew isn't a younger you, he's far more like his father, you should know something with that atleast! Or atleast- an approximation of what you should say! Why does this have to be so difficult!? Why did any of this have to transpire? This can't possibly be your fault in any way but why does it feel like it is? Why can't you be a normal creature and just know what to say? Why can't you be normal and feel things everyone else is able to feel? Why are you like this? Why is this happening? What is going to happen now? Part of me hopes I could just stay in this moment and avoid the inevitable confrontation with my nephew about the whereabouts of his parents but I know that simply isn't possible, it's going to happen, if not today then some other day...

Looking at him- the Muddler- my own nephew, sleeping peacefully and blissfully unaware of what is going on, it feels... Melancholic, for a lack of a better word that comes to mind. I look back down at my brother's book of poems, or anthology, 'the Ocean Orchestra', this was his one achievement outside of his personal ones such as marriage and having a child, and it's practically the only thing of his creation I bother to own... My mind still wanders back to what I should say to Muddler. And I whisper to myself, softly and sadly, salted with my own frustrations towards myself...

"What to tell him...?"

#moomins #moominvalley #art #hodgkins #moomin hodgkins #samuel hodgkins #moomin fredrickson #samuel fredrickson #fredrickson #fanfic #fan fiction #short ficlet #death mention #cw death mention #this ain't gonna get any sort of traction why did I do this to myself skhfhfjgjdjdjd #I'm just like. regretting it almost #muddler #the confounder #hodgkins' lost brother

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