and the lord did not ask her again

Pajama Day

Requested by @darkheartsdontbreaktheybruise 88: “I vote for today to be pajama day.”

Feysand - sick Rhys


Rhys is most definitely not sick. Or so he says.

Feyre, however, knows that this is most certainly bullshit. She was awake too when he was coughing up a lung at two in the morning, and when his nose was so clogged he woke abruptly when he couldn’t breathe normally. Her husband had had such a rough night sleep, in fact, that Feyre woke up before him, and was the first to feel his forehead. It practically burned her hand.

Immediately, she had canceled all of his meetings and obligations for the day. She called upon a healer, who inspected him quickly, quietly, while he was still sleeping, and left after telling Feyre just to make him rest and he would be fine in a couple days.

Feyre had closed the blinds so no light reached Rhys’ sleeping form, allowing him the chance to sleep rather peacefully for many more hours. His wife was completely content to watch over him while he slept, reading her book and brushing his hair back from his face from time to time.

He woke with a start, sitting up and practically trying to jump from the bed, upsetting the damp washcloth that had been sitting on his brow. His legs got twisted with the blanket, however, and he fell to the floor, groaning in discomfort. Feyre had tsked a couple times as she made her way around and helped her mate back to his feet before easing him on the bed again.

Rhys refused to lie down however, insisting that he was completely okay, even as his voice made a scratchy sound every time he talked and snot was currently pouring from his nose. Feyre simply handed him a tissue and pushed his shoulders so he was at least sitting against the headboard.

“But I have so much work to do Feyre. I’m not sick!” He kept saying, though he had just gratefully accepted the cup of tea she offered for his sore throat.

“I already canceled all your appointments for the day. Everyone understands that even the High Lord needs a sick day once in a while.” Feyre calmly explained, brushing his sticky hair off of his forehead. He looked like crap, she had to admit.

Thank you so much, darling.

Oops. It’s not a bad thing, Rhys. It’s actually a little nice to know that you don’t look perfect all the time. She winked at him.

“Yeah, well I can get dressed now so you don’t have to keep looking at me in my less than perfect state.” He said playfully, going to stand but Feyre pushed him down yet again.

“Nuh uh, sir, you are staying in this bed. In fact, I vote today to be pajama day!” She exclaimed. Rhys sighed, smiling slightly as he looked at her fondly. He was so easy to convince

Now, he grasps her hand in his and squeezes once. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Feyre winks again. “I ask myself the same thing everyday.” Suddenly, she stands up and skitters to the door. “Okay, you stay put and get comfy. I’ll be right back with food and stuff for the day. It’s about time we just spent a day together.” Her smile takes his breath away as she opens the door and swiftly departs.

The High Lord shakes his head, blows his nose, and takes a couple sips of his tea. When the cup was almost empty, he stands, stretching his sore limbs and thanking Feyre for getting him out of training with Cassian today. To be honest, he doesn’t think he would be able to do it in this state.

Rhys walks to his closet, going to the bottom drawer and pulling out a pair of footie pajamas with stars all over it that Mor had gotten him as a joke. He decides if he was going to spoil Feyre’s image of him as this sexy, perfect High Lord, he might as well do it comfortably.

About half an hour later, Rhys snuggled halfway beneath his covers, halfway not, warm and cozy in his pjs, Feyre comes back. She drops three bags of groceries on the table, scampers over to the bed to place a kiss on Rhys’ forehead, and then dashes for the closet. Rhys sits up in his bed in preparation, having a slight coughing fit in the meantime.

Rhys is just picking up another tissue when the closet door opens. Rhys drops the tissue. As well as his jaw. However, as always, he recovers quickly. “I didn’t know it was that kind of pajama day, darling. You should have told me and I wouldn’t look like such a dork.” He smirks, eyes freely roaming up and down her body which is scantily covered in a incredibly small black nightgown. He is working to stand and go to her as she holds up a finger.

“We’re not doing that today, not when you’re still sick. Though it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the view.” Feyre grins, causing Rhys to groan and fall back on his pillows.

“You torture me, you know that?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and following the movements of her body as she makes her way to the bed.

“Oh, yes, I do.” She hums, sliding under the covers next to him and peeking at what he is wearing underneath. “Love the footie pajamas by the way, so incredibly sexy.”

Rhys’ smirk comes back as he slides a hand under the covers towards her. “Sexy, you say?” But the act is ruined by a coughing fit that takes over his body.

Feyre rubs his back soothingly until he is done and then gets out of bed to bring him the snacks from the table, ready to settle in for a relaxing day with her mate.

For a couple hours, Feyre and Rhys simply read, eat, and cuddle, content in the silent company of each other. Eventually, Rhys’ eyes grow tired and he can no longer focus on what he is reading. So, Feyre takes the book from his hands, pulls Rhys down to lay his head in her lap, and reads aloud to him. Too many times, Feyre feels a hand start brushing along the edge of her nightgown and each time, with the hand that is constantly brushing through his hair, Feyre pulls at the strands slightly, causing him to growl and stop.

Later in the afternoon, Feyre leaves for a few minutes to make him soup. When Rhys spies the bowl in her hands, his eyes sparkle. She feeds him the hot soup but his eyes never leave hers as he eats, no doubt remembering the first time she made him soup. When the bowl is empty, he once again lays his head on her lap and stares up at her with pleading eyes.

His footsie pajamas have someone become unzipped to the waist, the upper half tied around his waist. Whether this is because he is hot or for some other reason, Feyre can’t be entirely sure. She laughs and shakes her head down at him, causing her hair to fall down in his face. He tugs at the loose strands in a silent question. “You’re insufferable.”

“But you love me.” Rhys reminds helpfully.

“That I do, however you know that I will not make love to you until you are 100% better.” Feyre retorts.

Her husband harrumphs, crossing his arms and sniffing. Feyre watches, however, as his eyes begin to slide shut once more. He snuggles around her, burying his head in her stomach. She smiles and runs her fingers through his hair again, feeling absolutely perfect in this moment.

That is, until she sneezes.

She feels Rhys smirk against her tummy. “Guess we’re having another pajama day tomorrow.”

Send me a number and ship!

Masterlist

Something Else (Sebastian Michaelis x Reader)

Request:  Ok i got a cute request! So i was wondering if you coud do a Sebastian x Reader (heck if you wanna me it for a headcannon then do it ^-^) where Ciel, Sebastian and his S/O are out and some one is hitting on her but flies over her head??? (Bonus if it involves kitten too cause protective!sebby with Kitties is honestly golden) thank you~!

Words: 1214

Characters/Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ciel Phantomhive

Warnings: Unwanted attention

A/N: Hey guys! I have a Patreon now! Woo! The link is in my description.

Originally posted by kinbari14


‘I’m hungry…’ she thought to herself. She walked behind her master, side by side with her husband. Her arm was threaded through his and if it were not for the grumpy lord in front of them, it would look like they were on a lovely stroll.
Her stomach growled lowly, not loud enough to be heard by human ears. Unfortunately, her husband isn’t human. She blushed and looked away to the side, knowing Sebastian had heard the sound.

“Did you not eat this morning?” He asked quietly.
“I did; however, I didn’t get to finish before Bardroy blew up the kitchen. Again.” She looked over to the cafe they were just passing. Her mouth watered at the smell. Sebastian chuckled.

“My lord, why don’t we stop for some tea? I’m sure you’re tired from all this walking,” Sebastian suggested smoothly. Ciel slowed to a stop and turned to his two servants. Even he had to admit, the two made quite the pair.

With the butler tall and dark haired with pale skin and unusual eyes and a wife who was equally as beautiful with (e/c) eyes that shined like stars. (H/c) hair that complemented her (s/c) skin elegantly, tied up into an intricate bun with her maids’ bonnet. Quite the pair indeed.

“Yes, I suppose you are right. Let’s stop here.” Ciel turned into the bakery. It was obviously meant for high class. High ceilings and large windows and furniture in a bright white wood. The chairs were cushioned with lavender pillows and all kinds of roses, lilac and chrysanthemums spotted the establishment. 

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Bodyguard (part 9) - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of death, swearing, smut

Summary: Tony Stark is a very rich man and with that came a lot of enemies. After a tragic event Tony decides himself and the people most important to him, especially his daughter, are in danger. He hires personal body guards. Bucky Barnes is assigned to Y/n Stark, the most troublesome, reckless Stark that there is.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Masterlist

 Y/n had been questioning why they were being targeted in the first place. She knew that a lot of people didn’t like the Stark’s because they had money, but surely that wasn’t enough of a reason for someone to shoot Tony.

 When she asked her father he seemed not to want to talk about it. Brushing it off with the excuse that people didn’t like the fact he was powerful and rich. Y/n needed to find out the reason. She couldn’t live her life in fear anymore. 

 Waking up with James in the morning was a sight y/n was finding herself getting use to. She definitely wasn’t complaining. She was still heart broken for him. Sad that he had to go through all that his wife soon to be ex wife had put him through. Nobody deserved that.

 As much as Y/n wanted to stay in bed cuddled up to James, she also knew that if she didn’t leave now she would never get her answers. Knowing James would not let her out of his sight, especially as she wanted to visit the man who shot her father.

———————————————————- —– 

 She looked up at the brick building, fenced in with barbed wire, a small patch of green grass lining the walk way. A prison guard let her through the main door as she handed over her ID.

 She was escorted by a member of staff from the front desk. Her hands shaking as she neared the door her fathers attempted murderer sat.

 Her phone rang loudly through the quiet hallway. 

The staff member came to a stop in front of a door, where two armed security guards were standing.

 She knew the rules of visiting in prisons. She handed over her phone that was continuously ringing, where they placed it safely in a tray. Y/n nodded at the security guard who smiled politely. 

 "we will be just out here watching" he reassured, opening the door for her. 

He let Y/n enter the room before shutting it behind her.

 Y/n met the eyes of the man sat on s chair in front of a table, his hands both handcuffed to a bar attached to it. He smirked up at her as she walked forward, taking the seat opposite him. It was silent as they watched one another. 

————————————— ——

  Y/n was the first to break it. 

 "Who are you?“ She asked, thanking the Lord that her voice was calm and composed. He smirked again before looking away. 

 "Thought you’d know, my face is plastered over world right now” he spoke.

 "I don’t read media" she spoke glaring at him. 

 "Too afraid to see yourself in it?“ He asked a smile on his face.

 "Why did you do it?” Y/n demanded, using all of her confidence to confront the man.

 "Oh sweetheart, very brave of you to come here" he smirked. “Where’s your body guards huh? Where’s Bucky?” He asked trying to look through the glass in the door and window.

 Her eyes widened at the name. Nobody ever called him Bucky unless they were his friends, that’s what he had told her.

 "How do you know his name?“ She shot back defensive. 

 "There’s a lot you don’t know about him.” He spoke, raising an eyebrow still smirking. 

 "Why did you try and kill my father?“ She asked staring the attempted murderer in the face.

 He stood up, the guard at the door moving so he couldn’t do anything. The man lifted his trouser leg up revealing a metal leg.

 "Your fathers weapons destroyed many people’s lives, him and his stupid inventions. There’s many people out there wanting to do the same thing as I did." 

 "His company doesn’t sell or produce weapons anymore” she spoke.

 "That does not make up for the past. I’m never getting my leg back" he shrugged. 

 She stared at him contemplating. She knew her father and even her grandfather built up the company by making and selling weapons. But Tony had stopped it as soon as he realized the dangers and how they could backfire.

 "Where were you based?“ She asked curiously. A sinking feeling hitting her stomach, she felt like throwing up.

 "Afghanistan” he replied simply, watching her for her reaction. 

 "T-that’s - that’s where James was" she stuttered. Her head starting to spin. Was she jumping to conclusions? Or was this man in front of her trying to stir things up. 

 " I know. I know him. He’s not who you think he is sweetheart" he laughed leaning back casually in his chair, watching her with a sly smirk. 

 "What do you mean?“ She asked breath hitching in her throat at the terrible feeling she had. 

 "He’s got a metal arm right?” He asked letting his chair fall forward, suddenly bringing him closer to her, making her jump and move her seat backwards a little.

 "Y-yeah".

 Bucky’s arm was all Stark companies fault. Y/n felt terrible, yet Bucky still took time to protect them, to risk his own life for hers in his job. 

 "How do you think I got into the party with the tight security? You’re a clever girl Y/n" he spoke watching the cogs turning in her head as she pieces it together.

 "An inside man" she stated in shock, surely they would have realised. “who?”

 He stared at her his eyes challenging her. 

 "B-Bucky?“ She stuttered out. 

He laughed nodding. 

"No- he wouldn’t- you’re lying. He would never do that” she spoke shaking her head, eyes watering as she tried to keep her self together. “He wouldn’t do that, you’re just trying to mess with me.” She cried, getting worked up.

 There was no way. No way in hell Bucky would do that, she knew him. But that’s when she realised, she didn’t really know him, he only told her some things, a few important heart breaking events making it feel like she knew him better than she did.

 He shrugged smirking. “Why don’t you ask him?”

 "No. I don’t need to he wouldn’t do that" she spat. Not fully believing the words coming out of her mouth anymore but she wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of seeing her cry. 

 "Why not? All the evidence points to him.“ He laughed at the horrified look on her face. "Let me guess. You think he cares about you?" 

 She stayed silent.

 "Sweetheart, Bucky doesn’t care for anyone. He’s just a good actor.” She stared at him shaking her head. 

 "I don’t believe you" she spoke standing up. She left without giving him another look. 

————————————————– ———— 

 She retrieved her phone from the tray seeing several missed calls from James and texts telling her to phone him immediately. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to.

 Once out of the prison, she let out a small sob, tears racking her body. There was no way Bucky had been plotting against them the whole time. She covered her mouth with her hand, regaining her composure. Straightening her shoulders and leaving. Y/n walked across the street to the hospital. 

She saw Bucky outside of her fathers room talking to Steve. He saw her approaching rushing over to her, wide eyed and concerned.

 "Where did you go?“ He questioned his eyes wide in panic and relief that she was okay. "You’re were gone when I woke up”.

   "Just went for a walk".

   "That could have been very dangerous y/n" he spoke quietly.

 "So it’s back to Y/n now huh?“ She asked. She had gotten use to the nickname ‘doll’ Bucky only calling her by her name when they were in a professional setting. 

She pushed past him to her fathers hospital room letting Bucky watch her go in confusion.

 "Hey kiddo” Tony spoke cracking a small smile as she walked into his room. She thought she could keep it together but as soon as she met his eyes she broke down. 

 "Hey hey hey" Tony hushed, beckoning her to come closer to him, she sat on the side of the bed, Tony pulling her to him in a hug. “It’s alright, everything’s going to be alright”

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Long Overdue

Originally posted by miscellame

Pairing: T’Challa x Reader

Request by Anon: Ohhh, from the drabble list, #7 ‘I literally don’t care if I’m in line for the throne and that you’re my mother’s handmaid, shut up and kiss me AU’ with T'Challa?? (I also loved the idea of Chamber of secrets, i’m excited to read the next parts!)

A/N: HI! Sorry this took so long to put out, finals week is kicking my ass and my kid was having this thing where she just doesn’t want to eat. I was pretty floored this week. But here it is! I do hope you enjoy it, and I don’t even know if this is an au or not, sorry lol.


The sound of birds chirping was music to your ears as you tend to the Castle’s private garden. Queen Ramonda was very particular about her breakfast and requested only freshly picked fruits to go with her breakfast, and being the Queen’s handmaid, it was your duty to see whatever she wants.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” You bowed down your head slightly to greet the Queen at the dining table. She was buried in the day’s newspaper to even notice that her breakfast was ready.

“Oh, forgive me, Y/N. There are just so many things to get acquainted with after being away that long.” She closed her newspaper and set it aside. “Where is my son? Isn’t he joining me for breakfast?”

“Would you like me to check, Ma’am?”

“Yes, please, and would you please tell the kitchen to make his favorite dish.” She requested with a smile and after excusing yourself, you walked up the stairs to the Prince’s living quarters.

Keep reading

Stuck// Spencer Reid One Shot

Spencer Reid X PregnantReader

 Word Count: 1,300 ish

Requested: No but this one was half done when I got caught in the tumblr crusade. It’s been pretty difficult to get back into writing but I will. 

Warnings: Not really? There’s some swearing, a little violence. Angst?

A/N: I’m not really proud of this one, I don’t like it. But I want new content on my page and I didn’t know what else to do with this. I really like the concept of this one so if you read this and like the concept I encourage you guys to rewrite it in your own way! I won’t be offended and I’d be really excited to read them! Also if you made it this far in the a/n kudos to you, look for the H. H. Holmes easter egg in this. 

——————————————————————————————-

“Edward Owens, once again, this is the FBI, we have you surrounded. Release your hostages.”

“This isn’t working, Hotch. I’m going in.” Spencer holstered his gun.

“Reid, you can’t.” Prentiss took a step towards him as we walked away.

“There’s a child in there,” He didn’t even look back.

——————————————————————————————-

Rossi, JJ, Garcia, and Y/N sat in the Scottsdale Police Station, reviewing the profile, when Rossi’s phone rang.

The group quieted, “JJ and I will be right over.” Rossi stuffed his phone in his pocket, “There’s a hostage situation, they have the bank surrounded.”

“Who are the hostages?” JJ asked standing.

“Three women, five men, and a child.” He said.

“Why do they need backup?” JJ questioned Rossi once again.

“There have been, uh, complications.”

“Oh my god, Spencer went in there didn’t he?” Y/N stood, clutching her stomach slightly. Only silence followed, “Rossi?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Oh lord.” Penelope said in a hushed tone.

“Then I’m coming with you.” Y/N began to reach for her bag.

JJ immediately intervened, “No, Y/N, You are not cleared to be in the field.”

“No way I’m staying here!” She shook her head, “I’m not on maternity leave, I’m at work, which means I should be working. As in helping the father of my child while he’s inside a bank with a serial killer.” She continued past the other agents and out the door.

——————————————————————————————-

“What is she doing here?” Morgan said as the arriving team climbed out of the SUV.

“You know we couldn’t stop her.” Rossi sighed, “Who’s the UNSUB?”

“Edward Xavier Owens, we had Garcia run a background check while you were driving.” Hotch answered, “Had lots of petty crimes, and exhibited possible signs of the MacDonald triad, in his teenage years, but he seemed to stop when he met his wife right out of high school. The stressor was about four months ago, she got in a car crash, it killed her and their unborn child.”

A gunshot rang out from inside the bank. The entire team flinched. Y/N Stared straight ahead, paralyzed.

“That’s a hell of a tough break,” Rossi continued the conversation, “Has he made any requests?”

“He just wants us to leave him alone.” Morgan finally looked away from Y/N, rejoining the conversation.

“Then what’s the plan?” JJ asked.

“As of right now, we don’t have one.” Hotch began to pass out wires to the remainder of his team.

“I-I could go in.” Y/N finally spoke.

“Absolutely not.” Morgan said immediately.

“No, no, this could work, Morgan.” She relaxed slightly, looking at him. “If he lost his pregnant wife, what are the chances you think he’d hurt one running in?”

The entire team stood in silence, they knew she was right, but none of them wanted a member in that bank. Let alone two. She looked around the group, quickly thrusting the earpiece back into Hotch’s hand.

“I have to try.” Y/N locked eyes with the unit chief, “This may be our best shot.”

Hotch turned to address Morgan specifically, “She’s right.”

“Yes, she is.” Y/N spoke again, beginning to take off her bulletproof vest.

Morgan and JJ looked at each other, Reid would never forgive any of them, not if she got hurt. Nonetheless, it seemed there was nothing they could do but watch. Hotch gave Y/N the rundown of what she could or couldn’t do in that bank. She was under strict instructions to act as if she didn’t know Spencer. They would give him exactly one minute’s notice that they were sending in an armed undercover agent, then it was up to her.

“Y/N, you ready?” Hotch asked. He was worried, they all were.

“Uh, yeah.” She straightened up.

She began to run, other officers ‘tried’ to stop her. They all knew she couldn’t just walk in unchallenged.

“Ma’am!”

“Where is he?” She burst through the door, “Wh-where..” She trailed, her eyes falling onto the group of hostages. She sprinted to the closest guy in there, he was her age, or at least looked it. They sent her in with a silver wedding band in case the most convenient hostage wasn’t married.

“Are you okay?” Y/N fell to her knees, hugging the hostage in front of her, she grasped his hand. “I’m FBI, I need you to play along.” She whispered, she gently slipped the ring on him.

“Who is this?” The UNSUB got angry fast, “Tell me who this bitch is!”

Y/N turned quickly, shielding her “husband”. She put her hands up in surrender, “I- I’m his wife.”

Edward froze, lowering his gun, “H-his wife, you two…”

Spencer finally realized exactly what was happening, fear rose throughout him, the love of his life stared straight into the eyes of a psychopath. “L-let them go!” Reid shouted pushing against his restraints.

“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” The UNSUB, turned pointing his gun at the agent.

“Please, please, I- I just want him home safe.” Y/N began to cry, the acting classes she took in high school were finally paying off.

The gun went off again, putting a small hole in the floor between Y/N and Reid. He rubbed his temple, turning back to the pregnant girl on the cold bank floor.

“How do I know- that you- you’re not an-” his eyes focused suddenly on the bump under her shirt, finally recognizing it. “How- how far along are you?

“Uh, twenty weeks.” Y/N looked up at him, seeing his slight confusion, “second trimester.”

“Boy or girl?” Owens froze, tears filling his eyes a little. He was clearly incapacitated by the suddenness of the situation.

This was good, but that didn’t stop Spencer from losing his mind as he sat silently watching his fiancé use herself as bait.

“Girl, they think, it’s uh not really clear but, the doctors said that they were pretty sure it’s gonna be a girl.” Y/N smiled at the hostage next to her, gently squeezing his hand, struggling, he managed a smile in return. And that was enough, the UNSUB began to question all of his motives.

“Get out,” He breathed, “You- you shouldn’t be here, so go.”

“I’m not leaving without my husband.” Y/N cried harder. Reid could feel his heart about to burst out of his chest, he could taste blood in his mouth from biting his tongue so hard that he didn’t scream.

Owens inched forward towards the bump, gently reaching his hand down. His eyes shut as the baby kicked just a little. As he did he began to disregard the gun. Which gave Y/N a split second, and she took it.

Reaching up quickly to grab the small handgun secured to the top of her thigh under her yellow floral dress. She slid to the side, kicking his gun out of reach. She rolled slightly to give her the momentum to stand.

“Edward Owens, you are under arrest for the murders of Clarence Mudgett, Webster Cunningham, and Vincent Herman.”  And just like that the police and agents alike flooded into the bank lobby, guns raised. Rossi’s first task was to cut the zip ties Spencer was restrained with. And in turn, Reid’s first task was to get to Y/N. Wrapping his arms around her as he possibly could without hurting her. Shooting a piercing glare at Hotch, because he was the only one who had the authority to let her in there.

“Wh-what? No. No!” Owens struggled against the officers leading him out of the building. “You’re a fed! You filthy bitch!”

“Shhhh, honey you’re okay, you did everything right.” Spencer smoothed her hair down, as she clung to him. “I’ve got you.”

erroneouslygrey  asked:

Drarry 8th year idea: Harry goes completely silent one day&lays down&cries in the 8th year common room&doesnt leave for 4+ days. His friends don't do anything to help him bc he made them promise after the war to leave him completely alone when he gets depressed unless it lasts > 2 weeks. Draco starts out irritated bc he cant fight with harry but then gets so worried that he becomes sick and can't move from the common room either. They start to talk & realize they've liked each other for a while

Welp, I tried


Harry was sitting in the shared eighth year common room alone when Draco burst through the door. “Why aren’t you in potions?” He asked harshly.

Harry kept staring into the fire, fiddling with his wand. “Didn’t feel like going.” He replied flatly. Draco huffed and crossed his arms.

“You haven’t been going to your classes for the past four days.”

“Great observational skills.” He said, still not looking at Draco.

“Why?” He asked, his voice softer than it was before.

“Why do you care?”

“It’s getting quite boring, not being able to taunt someone.” He sat down next to Harry. “I guess after the war that’s the only thing that felt normal.”

Harry finally turned to look at him. Malfoy was facing the fire, his face showed no malice or disdain. “How can anything be normal now and days?”

“Well, we have to try don’t we? I mean, we can’t forget the war, but we can do little things to cope with our losses; to remind us that it’s over.”

“How very philosophical of you.” Draco hummed in response. “However, taunting me won’t remind you that it’s over, but instead it’ll feel like it never happened. We can’t get over something if we deny that it happened.” Draco turned to face Harry and quirked an eyebrow. “I think, after everything, we should be friends.” He held out his hand for Draco.

Keep reading

Nesta’s forgiveness

It was not just Nesta who neglected Feyre. This fandom and the Inner Circle “cant’t forgive her” because she let her younger sister go hunting and abused her, and I am by no means denying she has done such things, but I don’t think she is having a fair trial.

I am not trying to excuse her actions, but if we pay attention, these happen only in the first half of the first book.

When Feyre comes back in acotar, it’s said that Nesta tried to rescue Feyre, she actually took the time to go help her and was willing to go into a dangerous territory full of unknown perils and beings she was terrified of.

  • When Feyre came back, Nesta asked Feyre to teach her how to paint, knowing her sister loved it and clearly  taking the first step towards reconciliation. 
  • When feyre said she wanted to go back to Prythian and live ther with the “love of her life” she didn’t opose, she let her sister be happy and let Feyre take with her anything she might need from the house


Nesta WAS mean to Feyre and she WAS a bad sister, but she actually showed character development in the second book whether you like it or not:

  • When her sister showed up months after she went away with a new crew, having left the male she went back to save in the first place and being treated like she was having a relationship with this other guy with only a shabby explanation, she let them in. Let’s not forget how much Nesta is said to hate and fear fae and how much of a sacrifice she was doing for Feyre.
  • She talked to the mortal queens in their name. The Archerons might be rich, but they aren’t nobility, it can’t be easy to have the motal queens paying attention to you when you are a 22 y/o girl who they never heard about, specially if rumors say you were poor two days ago.
  • Also, since fae are hated by all humans, not just her, being a spokenperson for them ment risking her family’s status (wich has always been extremly important for Nesta) but also, if things went wrong, it would translate into no marriage proposals for her or Elain, no power to protect her sister or herself and falling into poverty and disgrace again. Nesta was risking everything she had at the moment and her future.


In the third book, Nesta hadn’t accepted her new body, hadn’t poccesed what had happened to her or Elain, and wasn’t ready to speak about it, but she went to the meeting with the High Lords because she understood it needed to be done, she wasn’t as important as the cause, and did what was asked to her.

  • She went to war because it was necessary, she actually tried to help her sister and the whole continent, worrying about the human lands and its people way more than any other character. Those are the facts.
  • She even started apologazing to Feyre, but the were interrupted.
  • She accepted Rhy’s offer, she was willing to give the Inner Circe a chance and try to be part of the group. If she rejected the job it’s because of what happened after the offer, you know: her father being killed five meters from her, almost dying again and she decapitating a person.


Nesta’s behavour in acofas is a consecuence of the war and several traumas that hadn’t been dealed with. Nesta had no chance to deal with her new body or understand her powers before the end of acowar, and clearly nobody tried to teach her between this and the next book, neither did they in acofas. Yes Rhysand offered her several jobs, but clearly that was not what she needed and they didn’t took the time to try to understand what Nesta might need to get over all she has been throug. Feyre herself recognizes she avoids thinking about it and visits her sister like once a month.

Nesta is not a character that excuses her actions with a tragic backstory, she actually acknowledges she has done bad things and does something to change and fix the damage she has done instead of expecting everyone to be okay with it as other characters in this saga do.


When they were poor Elain was also there, she was also older than Feyre and did nothing to help either, she didn’t deffended her when Nesta slut shamed her or was abusive, she is no angel. Elain hasn’t aknowledged she has done anything wrong and not only she hasn’t aked for forgiveness, but she doesn’t think she has to. Feyre and the rest of the IC don’t expect that from her neither because Elain is Elain and she cooks for them and is kind? Okay, that is not fair.

But that’s not the worst part, because, yes, Nesta didn’t stop Feyre from going into the woods, but there was an adult there the whole time, they had a father who, in Feyre’s words, didn’t bother trying to help them. Nesta was abusive to him, too, because she wanted to provoke a reaction from him, she was mad at him because he, THE ONE RESPONSABLE for theirs wellbeing didn’t bother, so stop putting all the pressure on Nesta’s shoulders when she was 2 years older then Feyre. This man is forgiven, too, not because he tried to rescue her or helped when the meeting with the mortal queens was needed, but because he finally helped by participating in the war, which Nesta also did.


You don’t want to forgive or excuse Nesta’s actions because you can’t take a grey character, not because she doesn’t deserve understanding.

The Elf and the Dwarf

Summary: Erebor was reclaimed and the line of Durin had not ended. You were an elf and now that your quest was over, you didn’t know what to do especially since you gained feelings for a certain King Under the Mountain.

Chapter Summary: Visits and Apologies

Chapter Categories: Humor, Small Bit of Angst, I guess. Idk

Strike Through = Current Chapter

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

The next month passes by quickly. Half of the dwarves helped rebuild Dale including the Company minus Thorin, Fili and Balin. Since becoming the heir to the throne, there was a lot that he needed to learn and both Balin and Thorin helped him with that. Some dwarves also chose to stay behind to protect and rebuild Erebor.

Y/n had not seen any of the members of the Company aside from Bilbo. He had not yet gone home and chose to wait until the Coronation was over to leave. Of course, he sent word to Drogo asking him to watch over the place incase any of those Sackville-Bagginses came by. He once told y/n that they were an annoying bunch especially that Lobelia and she laughed.

Half of the Kingdom of Mirkwood also aided, but Rivendell did not. Bard did not want the Rivendell elves to make this long journey especially since they had enough help as it is.

Lord Elrond returned home, reminding y/n to be conscious of her heart. The question of choosing a mortal life came up once again and for once in y/n’s life, Lord Elrond snapped at her saying that because he was not her father, he did not have a say. That shocked her, but it made sense. While her brothers and Arwen looked alike, she was different. She was shorter and more humanlike.

After apologizing for snapping at her, Lord Elrond explained that she was given to him by her father for safekeeping. There was a certain darkness that was brewing and it was not safe for her. He had also explained that her mother was of the human race and had died during childbirth.

She had, once again, asked about the mortal life and he told her, rather reluctantly, that she could choose to become mortal whenever she wanted to, but advised her not to do so just yet and she didn’t.

Y/n has been getting daily visits from Bilbo and continued to spend a lot of her time with Bard’s children, teaching them to protect themselves with the permission of their father.

He didn’t want them to be so defenseless like they were when orcs attacked their home. What started off as three children began to turn into 20 children/teens, 30 dwarves and 40 men. Training them had become a part of y/n’s daily life.

“Alright children, remember!” y/n shouts as the lessons come to an end.

“Always keep your guard up,” they respond. Tilda, Bain, and Sigrid help her with putting the weapons away. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing here, lass,” a voice from the doorway says and they all turn to find Dwalin with his usual weapons attached to his back.

The children look at her and she nods towards the door. They leave her alone with the dwarf warrior.

“It’s the least I could do after Bard’s kind hospitality,” she says, pulling a tarp over the weapons. The only weapons the children were allowed to use were wooden sticks and dull arrows.

“You could be doing the same thing in Erebor!” Dwalin argues as he takes a seat on one of the chairs.

“I’m not going back to Erebor. I’ve made a life here in Dale. I have a purpose,” she tells him.

“Which is the same purpose that was supposed to keep you at Erebor!” he shouts and she winces, tucking her hair behind her ears, a habit she had when she was scared.

Dwalin sighs, knowing exactly why she tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I didn’t mean to scare you lass. I really didn’t. It’s just that it’s not the same without you,” he tells her, massaging his temples.

“And yet, its been a month and the only person that came to visit me was Bilbo. It is obvious that I do not matter to the company given the fact that no one had even made the small effort to say hello. I’m fine Dwalin. I love it here. I belong here,” she tells him, pulling out her bow and aiming for the targets located both high and low.

“Is it because you’re with people who are the same height?” he asks and that causes her to miss her target and smash into the wall behind. That question had taken her aback. She was never one to judge anyone and he knew that. For him to suggest that was an insult to her heart.

“Why would you even ask such a question?” she asks him, gaining her concentration back.

“Because it’s obvious. You have more in common with the people here than you do in Erebor.”

“It is highly insulting, master dwarf that you think I left you all behind because of a simple height difference. While it is true that I have more in common with the race of men, that is not the reason I left,” she says, plucking her arrows out from their intended targets.

“Then why?”

“Because I cannot stand to look at Thorin knowing that he will never love me back!” she shouts, rounding on him.

She sighs, not believing that her temper got the best of her yet again. She must pull more of her mother’s side rather than her father’s side.

“My father warned me of dying of a broken heart and by staying here I will not do so,” she says putting her arrows back.

She walks to the door and he follows her.

“Will you at least come to Erebor tonight? For the coronation. The city of Dale has been invited. I don’t see why you wouldn’t come,” he tells her.

“I am going, but as a guard. I have become Bard’s personal advisor and guard in exchange for a place to stay,” she tells him.

SECOND PERSON POV: (A/n: parts below belong to my short little imagine thingy. Well technically it belonged to this story. Continue on)

You both turn the corner only to be pushed to the ground in a heap of limbs.

You look up to find Fili smiling down at you.

“You know, when I imagined being between two dwarves, this is not what I was thinking of,” you say, smirking up at him.

He smirks back and asks, “oh yeah? And who is the other dwarf?”

“Not you,” you reply, shoving him off and standing up.

“Don’t give me any ideas,” Dwalin growls as you help him up and you can’t help but send a wink his way.

“Dwalin and Thorin eh? I can’t say that I didn’t see it coming,” Fili mutters and you just punch him in his shoulder.

“What do you want Fili? Besides wanting to feel me up?” you ask him as you walk back to the way he came.

“Uncle let me have a free day and I wanted to come and visit you and apologize for not talking to you sooner,” he says, hanging his head in shame.

“It’s something that’ll take a while to forgive, but I’ll work on it my little lion man,” you respond. He looks at you, smiling slightly.

“Now about that fantasy of yours,” he starts and you tug his mustache braids, making him shut up. You look to Dwalin as he chuckles.

“What I wouldn’t give,” he says and you blush.

“Where is Kili?” You ask trying to change the subject. “Probably having sex with that elf of his,” Fili shrugs. “You sure are horny aren’t you?” you ask him. “Want to do something about it?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows. You tug on his mustache braids again.

“You’re getting on my last nerves. Anyway, her name is Tauriel and you’d do well to remember your future sister in law,” you tell him.

He shrugs.

“How is managing the gold coming along?” You ask. “Balin is the only one that Thorin trusts to enter it. Not even Dain. It is getting harder and Balin has been trying to put it away but there’s just so much one can do,” he informs you and you nod.

“That’s when you’re supposed to offer help lassie,” Dwalin says. “What can I do? Your kin do not like elves so they would not like me. Besides you guys must’ve had treasurers before why not create them now?” you ask.

“Because trust lies low in the walls. Especially with Thorin being almost killed,” Dwalin growls out and you stop, heart beating hard. 

“It’s fine lass. Thorin can handle himself. Tossed the dwarf out of Erebor. Ever since then his trust dwindled down to those of the company,” Dwalin explains.
You sometimes hated how he could see right through you, but majority of the time you were grateful.

“I would’ve strangled that dwarf myself. Any who, instead of putting just Balin, put Kili and Nori there too. I know Nori is the last person you’d want there but who else can you spare? Oin is a healer, Gloin needs to keep those furnaces going, Bifur makes money by selling toys, Bombur is busy cooking, Bofur is busy mining, and Dori is too busy henning over Ori while he’s working on his scribes. Those two are the only ones available,” you explain.

“Which is why we need you back,” Fili presses. “I can’t. I’m an advisor for the King. The only advisor,” you say.

“Uncle never mentioned it,” Fili mutters.

“Not a surprise. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since basically calling me a traitor. Your King is a piece of work,” you huffs. “Thank you,” a gruff voice says. 

You all turn right to find Thorin.

You immediately look down, embarrassed.

“Fili, Dwalin. I have a meeting with Bard and ask for you two to attend. I will be there in a moment,” Thorin says and Fili looks at you nervously.

“Go on little lion man,” you say, smiling at him.

He nods and the two dwarves walk away trying and failing to remember when the council room is.

“Y/n. I shall hope that you are well,” he starts, trying to make small talk. “As well as I can get I suppose,” you say. He sighs.

“We did not leave off on the right foot did we?” He asks as you both continue walking. “No we did not, but that’s how we always are, isn’t it? Always getting into fights. Never liking each other,” you say, putting your arms behind your back.

“I never said that I didn’t like you,” he replies.

“It was implied. It has always been implied from the moment I met you. It’s because of the ears,” you say, laughing to ease the tension. Thorin only cracks a little smile, but it is gone in a second.

“That was not my intention,” he says. “And yet that’s what it seemed like. What are you doing here Thorin?” you ask him, stopping. You just wanted him to get to the point.

“I came here to apologize. For everything. For treating you like filth, for not trusting you, for like you said basically calling you a traitor. Just for everything that I have done to you out of ill-will,” he lets out looking you in the eyes.

“It’s going to take me a while to forgive you, Thorin,” you say.

“And i know that and I will wait for eternity if I have to,” he replies and you giggle. “You’re a silly dwarf,” you respond. He just smiles in return and you continue walking.

“So about you, me and Dwalin,” Thorin says, smirking. Your face turns very red.

“Nothing to be discussed,” you retort, quickening your pace and he just watches you, laughing.

A/N: Sorry, this is absolute shit and is absolutely rushed. As per usual, this story was written for myself so if you see any mistakes, that’s probably why. I also wrote this whole story (and am continuing to write it) after I finished watching The Almighty Johnsons so you see a bit of Anders in here. I apologize for this crap and I’ll try to make future chapters better.

2

STAR WARS >> A Song of Ice and Fire AU

Mad King Sidious still sits the Iron Throne.

It’s been twenty years since Lord Qui-Gon Jinn of Winterfell, Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Eyrie, and Lord Bail Organa of Storm’s End flew their banners against the Mad King, and lost.

It’s been twenty years since Prince Anakin vanished — presumed dead, defeated by his friend-turned-enemy, Lord Kenobi.

It’s been twenty years since Princess Ahsoka fled across the Narrow Sea, to faraway lands, to self-exile, fearing her father’s wrath after pledging her support to the failed rebellion.

No one knows what, precisely, triggered the rebellion. No one knows what occurred between Lord Kenobi and Prince Anakin to make them enemies. No one knows what happened to Lady Padmé of Highgarden. Under the Mad King’s rule, no one dares to ask.

Though protected by his loyal Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Vader (whose face none have laid eyes on), and staunchly supported by Lord Tarkin of Casterly Rock, Sidious’ legacy is meaningless without heirs.

Lord Bail Organa understands this and bides his time. He readies his men to someday rise again. He can wait. When Lady Mothma of Highgarden steps into her father’s role, he senses a shift in the winds. Mothma no longer supports the ruler in King’s Landing as her father once did, and Bail knows she hopes to avenge her beloved sister, Padmé. Behind the flowered walls of the well-renowned garden, Mothma enlists the help of Ser Draven and begins to raise an army.

To put a final end to murmurs of rebellion, Sidious greenlights a plan guaranteed to keep the Seven Kingdoms under his thumb. Lord Tarkin both funds the project and tasks his maester, Orson Krennic, to oversee it. Facing a dead end, Maester Krennic seeks his former peer, Galen Erso, who left the Citadel years ago to marry Lady Lyra of Riverrun. When Galen refuses, Krennic convinces Tarkin to lay siege to Riverrun. In the ensuing battle, Lady Lyra is killed, Galen is captured, and their missing daughter presumed dead.

Lord Bail’s time to revolt finally comes years later, when a sailor flees Lannisport bearing a grave message. Upon hearing of it, Lady Mothma and Ser Draven send his best knight, Ser Cassian Andor, to locate the message. Taken in by the volatile Saw Gerrera and his Brotherhood Without Banners, the sailor is unreachable — until Ser Cassian tracks down the long-lost Lady Jyn of Riverrun and convinces her to help. The rebellion is then horrified to learn of Sidious’ devastating secret: a seemingly infinite store of weaponised wildfire. Lady Jyn and Ser Cassian lead a mission to infiltrate Casterly Rock and steal the schematics for this weapon in hopes of uncovering a way to combat it.

Hiding in a small boat in Lannisport harbor, Lady Leia of Storm’s End is ready to retrieve the plans. Her attempt to flee Tarkin’s ships forces her north, and a terrible storm carries her even further adrift, until she finds herself far beyond the Neck, further North than she’s ever imagined. With no other choice, Leia heads to the Wall, to Castle Black, where her father has promised her she can find his old friend, Lord Kenobi.

Far away, beyond the Narrow Sea, the Dothraki Sea, and the Red Waste, another force rises. The wind carries whispers: Princess Ahsoka lives and plots to depose her father once and for all. Rumors burn hotter than wildfire: the princess has tamed three dragons, and she’s finally set her sights on Westeros. Whether she’ll ally with Bail’s rebellion remains to be seen.

Luke Snow knows little of the political machinations playing out in the lands far south of his home. All he knows is the hardship of winter on his aunt and uncle’s farm outside Winterfell. He longs to take the black and join his friends on the Wall; the Night’s Watch is said to be the most noble of callings. Yet his aunt and uncle refuse. “Your father was defeated in combat,” they tell him. “Farming is safer.” “Just till the end of the season.” All too soon, his wishes are realized. Though the Night’s Watch meets few of his expectations, he finds a mentor in the Lord Commander Ben Kenobi, who discovers an even greater evil than Mad King Sidious festering far beyond the Wall.

When the cold winds of the North fling rumors of both Leia and Ahsoka at his door, piling like drifting snow, Ben Kenobi must face a harsh truth: the prophecy Prince Anakin believed in is true, and now his sister and his children must rise above the game of thrones and meet their destiny in a song of ice and fire.

A new hope is coming.

They find Steve in Sarah’s room. They’d expected that though. Steve always went to Sarah with his problems. They don’t expect to find them sitting in silence though, Steve staring at his clasped hands, Sarah resting back on a pile of pillows with her eyes closed. Tony and Bucky whisper to each other for a few minutes before Tony nods sharply. Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes but steps to the side so he can’t be seen from the doorway. Tony lowers himself to the ground and pushes the door open.

Steve turns his head slowly, then squawks when he sees Tony crawling into the room. “Tony!”

“You fucking asshole,” Tony growls, glaring up at him. Steve stands up, takes a step toward him, then shrinks backward. Tony tries to tell himself that doesn’t hurt as much as it does. Steve didn’t know what he was doing. He just woke up one morning to find his mates all fucked out and covered in bruises from head to toe. “I asked you not to go!”

“Not everything is about what you want, Tony,” Steve snaps, and hates himself for it when Tony’s eyes go wide with hurt. He jerks his head away, hands gripping into fists and relaxing again and again. “Please leave. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Maybe I’m not here to see you,” Tony says. “Maybe I’m here to see my mother-in-law. Maybe I want her advice, omega-to-omega.”

“Lord in Heaven why did you see fit to let me live through this,” Sarah whispers to herself. “I am old and tired, Lord. Take me into your eternally loving and gracious arms.”

“Ma,” Steve gasps, outraged.

Sarah finally opens her eyes to roll them at him. “Steven. I am seventy-seven years old. I’m too old for this.” She sighs and turns her head to glare at the ceiling. “Why can’t you boys ever get into trouble where someone’s clearly in the wrong?”

“Me,” Steve says immediately. “Ma. I’m the one in the wrong here.”

“You were drugged!” Tony shouts, frustrated.

Steve takes a deep breath to bite back his frustration, swallow back his words. He wants to leave but he’d have to walk past Tony to do it and—and he was here first, this is one of his safe places, sitting with his mother. Why can’t Tony just leave him alone?

“Steven, I have some words for you to consider,” Sarah says gently, and Steve stiffens. He considers walking out past Tony anyway. “SIT DOWN,” Sarah orders sharply, and Steve drops back into his seat immediately because he’s upset but he’s not stupid. Sarah sighs. Her boys, honestly.

“What happened was awful,” she begins gently, heart breaking a little when her son’s face falls and he looks down in the deepest shame. “And you’re right; it was awful because your mates didn’t really have a choice. But Steve… have you even stopped to consider how else it might have been awful for your husbands?”

Steve frowns, confused, but too afraid to look up. He doesn’t want to know how else it could be awful. He feels bad enough for forcing himself on them. Steve jumps when a hand closes around his and jerks his eyes up to meet Tony’s, fighting the urge to snatch his hand back.

Tony looks up at him with sad eyes and lays his head on Steve’s thigh. “Steve. We were so afraid. The person that the Commandos brought home wasn’t you. And you—you were in your Rage so long, Steve. You wouldn’t eat. You’d barely drink. I was so afraid you’d die and those would be your last memories of us, of Bucky having you locked up in the guard house and me not coming to see you.”

“You should have let me die,” Steve answers simply.

Sarah turns her head to glare at him. “Steven!”

“You should have locked me away and thrown the key in the lake,” Steve insists, and Tony’s bottom lip trembles as he tries not to cry.

It doesn’t work.  “How can you say that to me, Steve? You know how much I love you, why would you—why would you say that to me?”

“I had one goal,” Steve hisses. “One goal for my entire life and that was to keep from becoming one of the people who hurt you. I already mucked that up once and it was a miracle that you forgave me. But then I did this to you and you’re trying to sweep it under the rug again. Just because you were in heat and that made it enjoyable doesn’t make it okay. And I—I hurt Bucky. Bucky didn’t want to be there at all and I could have fucking killed him but neither of you seem to care about that.”

Tony’s mouth works soundlessly before he finally manages, “Of course we care, Steve. But we know we can’t heal without you. Not the right way.”

“Maybe you should,” Steve answers. “Maybe you should heal without me. It could be the right way in time.”

Tony scowls. “It would never be the right way without you. You and Bucky were in love and together long before I was dropped into your lives. You think he’s going to forget that? You think I’m going to be able to fill the hole you’ll leave? I’m flattered that you think that much of me, Steven, but please be realistic. I’m an omega. Bucky will always have an instinct to protect me. He doesn’t have that with you. You’re equal partners. You’ve been partners since before I was even alive.”

Tony suddenly turns to scowl at Sarah angrily. “Why does your son have to be so noble? He can’t even listen to reason when he thinks he’s done something wrong.”

Sarah sighs and spreads her hands helplessly. “I couldn’t tell you, Anthony. His father was certainly never that noble. He was never sorry after her hit me.”

“Hit you?” Tony repeats quietly, confused, then whips back around to look up at Steve in horror. It makes so much more sense now.

Steve and Sarah never talk about his father except in passing, and Steve has never raised a hand to him, never even raised his voice unless he honestly thought he was protecting Tony. He asked permission for everything he did to Tony, even checked in the middle to see if it was okay. He was trying so hard not to be his father.

“Steve,” Tony says, voice breaking, and reaches up to cup his cheeks. “Darling, you’ve never hurt me. This was just—I know if you’d been in control you would have never hurt me or Bucky. You’re not capable of it.”

“Are you going to say I’m a gentle soul?” Steve scoffs, lifting his hands to grab Tony’s wrists, then thinks better of it when he remembers the bruises and just places his hands on top of Tony’s.

“No one would ever mistake you for a gentle soul,” Tony answers seriously. “But you are a just one. A fair one. And you adore me.” Steve frowns, opens his mouth, shuts it again because he can’t really argue; he does adore Tony. “You adore me, and you love your children, and you deeply respect your mother,” Tony continues. “And you love your alpha husband. You’re not physically capable of hurting us if you can help it, Steven. You would tear your own heart out before you let that happen.” Steve’s breath hitches, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Tony looks up at him with sad eyes and adds, “I know that because you’re doing it right now.”

A sob leaves Steve’s open mouth instead of words, and he crumples, clutching Tony to him so he can cry into chest. Tony strokes his hair and tries to make soothing noises but Steve’s pretty sure he won’t be soothed ever again.

Steve jumps when he feels another pair of hands squeezing his shoulders and looks up, sniffling. “Bucky.”

“Hi,” Bucky says softly, then leans down to press his forehead against Steve’s neck. “I can’t do this without you, Steve. These two weeks without you have just… just been so hard.

Steve reaches up to tentatively grab Bucky’s hand, and Bucky grips back tightly. “I guess that answers that question,” Steve mumbles.

“What question, honey?” Bucky asks gently.

“Whether Tony crawled all the way from our room to this one just to spite me.”

“He was gonna try before I picked him up and carried him,” Bucky explains, and Steve sighs tiredly.

“Hey!” Tony exclaims, blushing a little. “How else was I going to get here?!”

“You called me an ass and told me to put you down because you could get here yourself and you only let me carry you because I said it would save you time,” Bucky deadpans.

Tony flushes darker when Steve lifts his head to stare at him in disbelief.

“My boys,” Sarah sighs fondly. “Please don’t ever change.”

anonymous asked:

What does Jim think about being oUr LorD aNd saViOr

the jims perk up from their mountains upon mountains of presents, rushing over and pushing mod bri out the way again. the mod holding her head – possibly breaking her skull.

“NANI?” jim twin #1 perks up, “SO LIKE…JESUS OF THE CHRIST?”

“ISNT IT HIS BIRTHDAY TODAY?” jim twin #2 asks, “I DID NEVER PAY ATTENTION EVER IN SUNDAY SCHOOL.”

“WHY YES IT IS!! BUT…”

the two twins look at each other, a light bulb going off in their heads, “WHICH MEANS MORE PRESENTS!!”

they jump around in excitement, all on top of mod bri, who is slowly being crushed by every bit of their weight. the poor mod groaning and yelling for the anon’s help.

“YES!! WE ARE BOTH THE NEWBORN KING AND SAVORS!! IT IS OUR DAY OF BIRTH FROM…ERM…” jim twin #2 struggles.

“FROM SAVING YOU FROM SIN!! NOW BUY US MORE GIFTS OR WE WILL DAMN YOU TO A HELL WITH SHOOTIES!!”

at this point, mod bri is basically dead. the twins paying no mind as they drive back into their presents.

The Lost Boy

“I cannot get out of my head the image of him crawling to her. You didn’t crawl.”

He took a deep breath, there was always something about his voice that was calming. “Our situations are completely different. I have wanted to be free from her for at least a century. I recently found I have a son and I have missed out on 25 years of life because of my blood oath to her. His mother died because of that blood oath, to protect my son from her. Like Rowan I was relieved to be free of my blood oath. He’s demi-Fae and has been blood sworn to her for the majority of his life, that oath defined who he was.”

“What does it matter if he is demi-Fae?”

Gavriel looked at the sky as if the answers to her questions were written in the stars, “Demi-Fae, are not treated well in Doranelle, the ones that are allowed entrance have something to offer the queen or her people. They do not have the same rights as the Fae. If I wanted to bed or whip one of them, I could and there would not be any punishment. Most demi-Fae live in compounds on the boarders of Wendlyn and Doranelle, rejected by both human and fae. That’s where I met Aelin, a demi-Fae fort called Mistward. Lorcan is a bastard as well as a demi-fae, his youth would not have been easy. Maeve used him for his power.”

For some reason the thought of Lorcan being rejected and then only used by that bitch did not settle well. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever been loved.

She jumped when Rowan added, “When Aelin was at Mistward we were visited by nobility. It was during that visit that I learned Maeve offered up Aelin’s services to Lord Benson. The thought of it turned my stomach, in that moment all I could do was protect Aelin. Not that I needed to, she took care of Benson on her own, threatened to melt his bones if he ever looked at her again.”

How the hell did he sneak up on people like that? They each had immortal grace, but Rowan’s was more pronounced. The three of them sat on the helm of the ship, staring at the heavens above. Each of them thinking of their world, trying to find answers in the stars, each of them saying silent prayers asking the heavens for a better world.

She had no idea how long they sat there, before Rowan broke the silence, “I’ve known Lorcan for over two hundred years. In that time I have never seen him care for another. Our world, our traditions are different than yours, as a fae male our purpose is to defend and protect the ones we care for. I will do anything to protect her.”

She nodded at the warrior, not certain what to say in response to his declaration. She rose noting that her ankle was braced again before heading to her room. On her bed was yesterday’s clothes, freshly laundered and folded. There was also a new blanket, well a blanket that was new to her. The nights were becoming colder and this blanket would be a welcomed addition.

She laid in bed unable to sleep, rolling Gavriel and Rowan’s comments over and over in her mind. He cared, even now, when she ignored him he cared. Every day he braced her ankle to make it easier on her, because he cared. Every day he laundered her clothes, because he cared. Every day he cared and every day she shut him out and maybe she shouldn’t.  She felt a push from her goddess.

She rolled out of bed, walking to towards the male that would be outside her door.  She had no words for him. He looked at her with caution, uncertain what to expect. Since the beach she has refused to acknowledge his existence. so instead grabbed his hand. After all it only seemed right that a lost boy found a forgotten girl. 

ladyofdragonstone  asked:

Do you think Ned would have still tried to protect Dany if he wasn't harboring a Targaryen child himself? Would he have felt as disgusted with Robert about Rhaenys and Aegon's deaths, and the idea of sending assassins to murder her unborn child, or would he have stood by and watched his King secure the throne?

Considering that Ned was disgusted with Robert about Rhaenys and Aegon’s deaths at least a month before* he even knew Jon existed… nope, it’s just Ned, just his thing.

He remembered the angry words they had exchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with the corpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to fight the last battles of the war alone in the south.
This time, Ned resolved to keep his temper. “Your Grace, the girl is scarcely more than a child. You are no Tywin Lannister, to slaughter innocents.” It was said that Rhaegar’s little girl had cried as they dragged her from beneath her bed to face the swords. The boy had been no more than a babe in arms, yet Lord Tywin’s soldiers had torn him from his mother’s breast and dashed his head against a wall.
“And how long will this one remain an innocent?” Robert’s mouth grew hard. “This child will soon enough spread her legs and start breeding more dragonspawn to plague me.”
“Nonetheless,” Ned said, “the murder of children… it would be vile… unspeakable…”    

–AGOT, Eddard II

“Whereas Daenerys is a fourteen-year-old girl.” Ned knew he was pushing this well past the point of wisdom, yet he could not keep silent. “Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?” –AGOT, Eddard VIII

Yet last night he had dreamt of Rhaegar’s children. Lord Tywin had laid the bodies beneath the Iron Throne, wrapped in the crimson cloaks of his house guard. That was clever of him; the blood did not show so badly against the red cloth. The little princess had been barefoot, still dressed in her bed gown, and the boy… the boy…
Ned could not let that happen again. The realm could not withstand a second mad king, another dance of blood and vengeance. He must find some way to save the children.

–AGOT, Eddard XII

“Tell me, my honorable Lord Eddard, how are you any different from Robert, or me, or Jaime?“
“For a start,” said Ned, “I do not kill children.”

–AGOT, Eddard XII

Ned’s moral stance against child murder,** the fact that he’s been haunted by the gory sight of Rhaenys and Aegon’s bloody corpses for 15 years, is why he warned Cersei that he knew about the incest, because he knew Robert would kill her and her children as soon as he told him the truth. Ned met with Cersei and told her he knew, told her to take her children and go as far as the winds could carry them, because he wanted them safe and protected and far from Robert’s wrath. That’s Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Baratheon that Ned couldn’t allow to be murdered, nothing to do with protecting Targaryens, nothing to do with Jon.

*In addition to the Robert’s Rebellion timeline in that link: Jon is about eight months older than Dany. Dany was conceived shortly before the Sack of King’s Landing. That means about a month must have passed between the Sack and the fight at the Tower of Joy.

**The fact that I have to say something like “Ned’s moral stance against child murder”, as if he’s an exception, to suggest that anyone else would have to have a personal reason they don’t want to support murdering a pregnant 14-year-old girl as part of government policy… smh… the fact that Ned actually probably is an exception among the lords of Westeros… smh…

It’s nothing!

Joker X Reader

Originally posted by coffee-inan-iv


Joker walked through the main room and looked over to his girl who was curled up on the large chair and painting her toe nails, he didn’t see the point in that, but if it made her happy. He loved to see her happy. The way those (YEC) eyes lit up when she smiled, it made his heart skip. Frost was walking behind him as they had business to see to.

  “You all right baby girl?” he called over to her and she didn’t even look up, didn’t even give a smile.

  “I’m fine,” was all she said and Joker carried on until the hall and Frost sucked in breath through his teeth.

  “What is it?” Joker turned to him.

  “What did you do to upset her?” he asked and Joker stopped and frowned.

  “I have done nothing… she said she was fine,” he pointed to the doorway and kept his voice down, but Frost was shaking his head.

  “No she said she was fine. Women say they are fine when they are not, and they want you to know that.” Frost folded his arms and shook his head.

  “No she is fine!” Joker snapped and Frost just looked to him. Joker went to walk away but he stopped. What if she was in a mood? With him?  ‘Oh Lord’ how could he make it better? But she said she was fine.  He walked past Frost and back into the room “Is anything wrong?” he asked her, again she didn’t look up.

  “Nothing,” She said and he nodded but as he turned to Frost who looked even more horrified, his eyes wide.

  “Oh sir what did you do?” He gasped

  “I didn’t do anything. I woke up this morning and I have done nothing.” he started to pace, his hand running through his green hair, trying to retrace his steps from this morning. She woke up and she was there, he went to kiss her and she turned so his lips landed on her cheek, there was a touch of a smile, but he didn’t think, he had gotten out of bed and showered, she hadn’t joined him as usual.

  “Did you forget her birthday?” Frost gasped and Joker glared at him

  “Never,  it’s (YBD),"  thoughts raced through his head he didn’t want her upset, he had to fix this! Soon!

  "We need to go, maybe we can think of something when we come back?” Frost said to him breaking into his thoughts.

  “Oh no, I am not leaving until I know!” he walked back in and moved to stand in front of her.

  “In my light,” she said and he cringed, turning his head he seen Frost watching his every step,

  “I am about to head out, business.” Joker started and she hummed, didn’t even answer, again he turned to Frost who’s mouth opened in a gasp,  he mouthed 'That’s bad’ and Joker felt his stomach churn. What if she wanted to leave? How could he cope with that?

  “Ok,” She said and painted another nail.

  “Is there anything I can get you?” he kneeled dow., He just needed her to look up.

  “Nope,” She said popping the 'p’ and he fell back onto his heels.

  “I will stay here, if you need me to?” he spoke softely and she shook her head,

  “No, you go,” Not once did she lift her head to look at him.

  “(Yn) look at me?” he asked, and she gave him a quick glance, her bottom lip was pulled in as she bit down on it. There was something there as she couldn’t hold his gaze.  “What is wrong?” he asked a little more firmly.

 "Nothing,“ she said and there was a gasp from the door way and Joker rolled his eyes. He watched as she looked over his shoulder towards Frost, then back at Joker, and her chin trembled ever so slightly.

  "Ahh see, there is something wrong, tell me Baby girl. What have I don’t wrong? Let me fix it,” Joker grabbed her hands, and there was a faint smile and he felt a weight lift slightly.

  “It’s me, I was the one that did something wrong…” she was frowning now and those (YEC) eyes looked at him with so much worry,   "I spilt my nail polish on your jacket last night and I was worried you would be mad at me.“ She lowered her gaze and he leaned forward and placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes.

  "Jesus is that it? Oh thank God,” he lowered his head to her knees and let out a long breath.

  “You are not mad at me?” Her voice was quiet and he looked up to her with a large smile.

 "I would never be mad at you, unless you ate the last donut.“ Joker winked and then there was that smile that made his stomach flip, his heart skip and his dick hard.

  "I am so sorry,” her voice was just above a whisper, and he leaned in and kissed her. 

  “Frost, call the meeting off, we are going to be busy.” He shouted and picked her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her through to the bedroom. Joker knew she could never be in a mood with him.


@zomtompham what I feel like Frost is doing behind joker 😂😂

Originally posted by tattoo-and-a-smile

Jonerys Week| Day 1 | My King, My Queen (also a little fluff)

“Jon.”

“Hmm?”

“You won’t ever leave me, will you?”

Jon Snow chuckled as he ran his hand down his queen’s back. She was pressed up against him, her head resting on his chest and her own fingers tracing his scars.

They lay warm in the furs of her bed, their naked bodies cuddled close to each other. 

“Never.” he responded, “I left you once before and it was the worst mistake I ever made.”

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Maelstrom

TITLE: Maelstrom

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine helping Loki leave his physically and emotionally abusive girlfriend. You treat him with kindness and respect, and with time, as he falls for you, you teach him that love isn’t supposed to hurt.

RATING: Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger Warning - This story is going to deal with emotional and physical abuse by a female abuser to her male partner.
Maelstrom - a situation or state of confused movement or violent turmoil. Loki bit his tongue. At this stage, he was not sure how he had not bitten through it. Lucia was talking again of them going to Vanaheim for a week to her family home. The one that, at present, was not housing a single other member of her family. It was clear what she wanted but the more adamant she wasn’t doing it, the more averse he was to it.

He was not the most romantic but he knew that he wanted to want the first time. He wanted to know the woman he did it with would love him regardless of his fumbling attempts to put what he had read to use. Lucia was not that woman. At first, he thought she would be. She seemed to show genuine interest in him, listening to him, laughing with and not at him. She seemed to enjoy his company, but after they began to become closer, she changed.

It started with slight comments, half under her breath which became more vocal as time passed, then one day, he was delayed meeting her at a meeting with a foreign Lord his father had asked him to entertain. When he finally got to Lucia, whom he had sent a message to, she slapped him across the face for “embarrassing” her. It did not hurt him physically, he was a strong warrior but it did hurt in other ways, it made him feel terrible, as though he did something to deserve it. The next time was when she had lost a friendly competition, it was somehow his fault even though he had nothing to do with it. She called him every manner of name after that and struck him again, and again it did not physically hurt so he just accepted it. Not once during such events did he retort the words or retaliate against her. His mother, father, and tutors always reiterated time and again that a man never raised a hand to a woman. It escalated until she dug her nails into his arms so tightly that they broke the skin. Then she took one of his daggers across his arm when he said no to getting her something. That was the first time that he was worried, and since then it has only gotten worse. He had been worried about Sif’s sister finding out as he knew his brother and his friends would make all manners of insults if the healer mentioned it to her sister. Eir eased his concerned some bit, and insisted that Tyr’s other daughter, he now recalled being named Cara, would say nothing. In the time since then, he suspected that she had not spoken a word of what she had seen to anyone.

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anonymous asked:

So I have this theory that Nesta is actually bonded to Cassian and Koschei. Since she did take a something from the Cauldron that, that piece of her mates her to Koschei while her true self is bonded to Cassian. I think I’m liking it more towards a Harry Potter-esque where adopted a few of Voldemort’s qualities

Unfortunately, we still know nothing about Koschei and what role he plays in the ACOTAR’s universe except the fact that he is the eldest brother of Stryga and the Bone Carver, so all of this is rather basic information. At the same time, we have some interesting lines in the books that can be used as a proof of possible connection, possible relationship between Nesta and Koschei. It was stated by the Bone Carver that Koschei is the strongest one among all three siblings, and Prythian’s inhabitants think of him as the God of the Death - all three of them were considered as “Gods of Death”.

Nesta has dark gifts. Not just one gift, but gifts. I feel so attached to her, because I consider her as the strongest character in a whole trilogy. She is trying to fight against destiny – she doesn’t want to accept the death of her mother; the death of her father had a strong impact on her, readers can see what the death of loved people can do with a fragile and sensitive soul. She feels nothing. Nesta’s present state should not be necessarily connected with the Claudron, I believe that a person really can feel nothing because of the death of the loved one. Therefore, Nesta has a posttraumatic stress disorder. And I do not think anyone could get through what she went through. Nesta was in the war camp during the battles with Hybern, and it seems that she helped to treat wounded, brought fresh water, tried to bandage soldiers’ wounds. The girl who tried to distance herself from the suffering of other people was at the very center of cruelty - torn limbs, physical pain, death, bitterness, blood. No one likes war, but Nesta, who feels too deeply and sees everything that others do not notice, I’m sure it was incredibly difficult for her to be in a war camp. And Nesta watched Cassian during the battle, but she looked not only at him, but also at other soldiers who were dying. And I strongly believe that she blames herself not only for the fact that her father died trying to protect her, but also for the fact that she could not stop the Claudron’s power, she did not save the Illyrian’s soldiers who were killed by the Claudron. She could not prevent the destruction of the wall, which for many centuries had been the only barrier that separated the immortal regiments from weak mortals. And there are still many high fae, who wants to enslave humans once again. When Nesta met the mortal queens, she did not ask for her life, but for the lives of the people who were living in her village, in the Archeron’s mansion; she asked for the lives of weak people before the High Lords, she was trying to convince that people behind the wall were dying because of hunger. She asked Rhysand to try to hide people with families during the battle with the Hybern, but Rhysand refused, because there was no time, there was no place to hide so many people as if he really did not care.

By the way, this could be one of the reasons, why there were so many servants in the Archeron’s mansion, not because they really needed servants, or they did not need money, but most likely because Nesta could give money to other people from poor families, so that they could buy warm clothing, food. This could be one of the reasons, why Nesta so quickly furnished the house with paintings and expensive furniture, using the money that Tamlin left - she bought other things to give money to others. And Nesta is well versed in human feelings, I think she understood that pity could offend other people, and when she gave money in exchange for utensils, for work other did in their mansion – by doing this she did not cause moral pain to others, and helped those, who needed this. Cassian correctly notes in the novella that Neste has no other place to go - she has no home anymore. And I believe that the Hybern’s soldiers killed those, who were in the Archeron’s mansion that night, when soldiers came for the older sisters, perhaps, they even burned their house. And she could feel guilty for the death of her servants because she hired those, who cooked, cleaned rooms and washed clothes.

Sadness, sorrow, grief, loneliness, empathy, love - all these feelings may cause the death.

The void had already tortured Nesta before. She had already experienced similar feelings of loss, when Elain reminds Cassian of what Hybern did with him, when Archeron’s sisters were transformed into immortals.


“Nesta’s nostrils flared, but Elain peered up at Cassian, blinking twice. “He snapped your wings, broke your bones.”

I tried to shut out the sound of Cassian’s scream—the memory of the spraying blood.

Nesta stared at her plate”.


Nesta did not want him to feel any pain, she shared his physical pain, as if she felt this pain as her own. Nesta does not tell anyone about her gift. Cassian accuses her of stealth in the very beginning of the third book, saying that she does not want to talk about her gift.


“You won’t talk about your powers, so you certainly aren’t going to be able to wield them. And you—”

“Shut your mouth,” she snapped, every inch the conquering empress. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, and if you—”


The reason of all of this is that she does not want her gift to be associated with death. A person, who has such an acute sensitivity to words, who so sensitively feels other people’s emotions, getting badly burned by the feelings of other people - it is not surprising that Nesta opposes her new nature. No wonder she hates Feyre – because of her Nesta was transformed into the creature that brings death. The death that took her mother.

And fear surge through every pore of her new and severe nature, when she speaks about her power:


“Nesta didn’t look convinced. “Does she have powers? Like mine.”


Firstly, the Bone Carver says that Nesta is the same as his sister once was, he calls her Queen. He equates Nesta with himself, says that they are the same, they are equal.


“A rasping laugh as the Carver laid the shard of bone on the ground beside him. “How lovely she is—new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen, as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.”


The Bone Carver heard the song of her dark gifts, heard from the winds about Nesta.


“I think it’s death,” I said quietly.

I held Rhys’s gaze, as if it were again the tether that had kept me in this world. “I think the power is death—death made flesh. Or whatever power the Cauldron holds over such things. That’s why the Carver heard it—heard about her.


Secondly, we have such a terrific character as Vassa, who directly tells Nesta that in the future they will fight together.


“I do not have much time left—before I must return to the lake. To him.”

To the death-lord who held her leash. “Who is he?” I breathed.


And if we are talking about Vassa and her curse, then we will certainly meet with Koschei. And if The Bone Carver says that Nesta resembles his sister, there is a possibility that Koschei would love to have a bride, who is equal in strength to him.

And here is one interesting turn in the plot of the whole story. What I really like about Russian fairy tales is that many women are represented as warrior-queens and sometimes women in Russian fairy tales save their spouses and husbands. Koschei is the main villain in many Russian fairy tales, and always captivates the most beautiful women, turning into mythical creatures those, who refused to become his bride. He has many unique abilities - he turns into black ravens, and with his touch he turns all living things into gold and diamonds, his rich palaces are full of untold treasures, jewels. But he always acts like a villain. No arrows, no sword can kill him, but still he can be killed, but his death is hidden.

Koschei is a very powerful magician:

in the fairy tale “Ivan Sosnovich” he turns into a stone a whole kingdom;

in the fairy tale “Elena the Beautiful” turns Ivan Tsarevich into a nut;

in the fairy tale “The Princess-the Serpent” transforms the princess into a serpent;

in the fairy tale “The Frog Princess” punishes the princess, putting on her a frog skin.

And the very name of Koschei is translated as a ‘slave’ or a ‘prisoner’; using his name as a verb, that would be translated as “to hurt”, therefore he is called as an avenger and as a pest or as a wrecker.

“The Death of Koschei the Deathless or Marya Morevna” is a well-known Russian fairy tale and Marya Morevna is described as a beautiful warrior-queen, that captivated Koschei with her beauty. Koschei always acts as a bride kidnapper. And Nesta can be regarded as a bride, if in the next book we would finally find out that Nesta and Cassian are mates. But Marya Morevna was also the one, who could put Koschei in chains.

And there are a few more fairy tales “Vasilisa the Beautiful”, which is more like Russian version of ‘Snow White’; “The Frog Tsarevna” or “The Enchanted Lake” (The Frog Princess, named Vasilisa the Wise, is a beautiful, intelligent, friendly, skilled girl who was forced to spend 3 years in a frog’s skin for disobeying Koschei, she refused to become his bride); “The Firebird and Princess Vasilisa”.

Viktor Vasnetsov, The Frog Tsarevna, 1918.

The Koschei’s true form is very repulsive, but since we have Sarah J. Maas as an author, for some reason I imagine him as a handsome and strong man - he is the eternal and immortal God of Death after all.

There are no hints that Koschei knows anything about Nesta’s existence, except for the words that the Bone Carver said about the island.


“You have met my sister—my twin. The Weaver, as you now call her. I knew her as Stryga. She, and our older brother, Koschei. How they delighted in this world when we fell into it. How those ancient Fae feared and worshipped them. Had I been braver, I might have bided my time—waited for their power to fade, for that long-ago Fae warrior to trick Stryga into diminishing her power and becoming confined to the Middle. Koschei, too—confined and bound by his little lake on the continent. All before Prythian, before the land was carved up and any High Lord was crowned.”


It seems that the Bone Carver is afraid of them, especially afraid of Koschei.


They are death-gods, girl,” the Carver hissed. “You are immortal—or long-lived enough to seem that way. But my siblings and I … We are different. And the two of them … Stronger. So much stronger than I ever was. My sister … she found a way to eat life itself. To stay young and beautiful forever thanks to the lives she steals.”

“I have no desire to remind my sister and brother that I am alive and in the world. Contained and diminished as they are, their influence remains … considerable.”


Therefore, The Carver used the prison as a shelter from his powerful siblings.

I do not know what will happen next, but for some reason I believe that this meeting between Koschei and Nesta is quite possible, and it would be like a dark and dangerous, tragic romance. I do not think that Nesta will choose Koschei, because in fairy tales he always appears as a villain, however Nesta is a person, who sees the depth of the soul of other people. She can look within the soul of the most ancient and powerful God, who is attached to her.

Why the romance between them will be tragic? Usually villains of such high level like Koschei offer the finest things that virtuous heroines never agree to accept (that stupid girls) and usually villains uses this perfect line like – ‘Let’s rule this world together like the King and the Queen’. I do not think Nesta will agree with this if it means enslavement or annihilation. I also think that the affection between them could be very passionate. Sometimes they say that affection is scarier than a sword.

Nesta is described as an incredibly beautiful woman. Helion, Eris, and even Hybern were interested in her. Only Cassian – “The Prince of Fools” pretends not to know her and keeps saying himself that he does not care. But either he begins to behave like a man and grow some balls, or Koschei will come with very direct statements and plans about Nesta Archeron. For some reason it seems to me that Koschei is very straightforward in his intentions.

cle-guy  asked:

Mindset. On the Catelyn ask: do you think Ned and Cat had anyone in mind for Robb to marry? Isn’t it a little weird Robb did not have any betrothal prospects considering his age going into GOT?

Cat may have been considering things, but not so much that it shows up in her POV at all, which means it would have been very insignificant. As for prospects, we know that Ned rejected Rickard Karstark’s offer of Alys when she was 6 (and Robb was 8). Probably other northern lords were nosing around Robb as he got older, as he’s quite a catch, but again not so much that it became relevant to either of his parent’s POVs. (Though it becomes relevant to Bran’s POV when Robb hosts the lords of the North after Ned’s arrest, and they all start shoving their daughters at him.)

But no, it’s not that weird? Robb was only 14, two years before age of adulthood, and often young men in Westeros don’t marry until their 20s at the earliest. (See Edmure, see the Tyrells, see the unmarried Domeric Bolton and various Karstark boys, among others.) Hell, it looks like even Walder Frey first got married in his early 20s. (As his eldest son was born when he was 25.) And as for the Starks, Brandon was betrothed to Catelyn when he was 14 or 15, but even though his father was very (southron) ambitious, Ned was still unbetrothed at 18.

Though really, it comes down to this:

“I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done.”
This offer did surprise him. “Sansa is only eleven.”
Robert waved an impatient hand. “Old enough for betrothal. The marriage can wait a few years.”

–AGOT, Eddard I

The maid came forward last, and very shy. Robb took her hand. “Mother,” he said, “I have the great honor to present you the Lady Jeyne Westerling. Lord Gawen’s elder daughter, and my… ah… my lady wife.”
The first thought that flew across Catelyn’s mind was, No, that cannot be, you are only a child.

–ASOS, Catelyn II

Basically, Ned and Cat thought of their children as children, and were not actively dynastically ambitious. (Note Ned’s “they need to grow up because winter is coming” seems to only apply to emotional maturity.) In particular, Ned seems to have had post-Rebellion trauma, and reacted by isolating himself and his family, avoiding the kind of ambitious plans and politics that led to Lyanna’s early death and his father and brother’s murders. There was peace now, nothing to worry about, there would be plenty of time…

(For more on this subject, please see these posts on Jon and Theon, and Theon again.)

anonymous asked:

Hi! Could you write something about Katara starting to be the fire lady and Zuko supporting her? Thank you!

AN: This is a really great prompt and I love the idea, but I’m so sorry I’ve rewritten this like 4 times and I’m so unsatisfied with everything I’ve tried to write. I’m going to just post this because it’s been in my drafts forever and I don’t want to start on my new promts until I get this one out but bleh I am really unhappy with this I’m sorry


“Hey, are you okay?” 

Katara let out a sigh of relief when she heard Zuko’s voice coming towards her. As she turned, she saw her fiancee walking down the hall, heading in her direction. She had been pacing in front of the large door, but stopped when she heard Zuko. 

She offered him a smile. “Yeah, I’m just… nervous.” Zuko raised an eyebrow at her. 

“You? Nervous?” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous.”

Katara glared at him teasingly. “Yeah, well, this is important!” 

It really was. Zuko had proposed to Katara three days ago, and today was the day they were to officially announce the engagement to the Fire Nation. Katara had been working towards this day for a long time. Ever since the beginning of their courtship, Zuko and Katara both knew this relationship was going to last. So Katara had been studying Fire Nation history and practicing how to be a good Fire Lady from the start. 

All the practice in the world, however, couldn’t make the people like her, and Katara was terrified that the people wouldn’t accept her.

“What if they don’t want me as their Fire Lady?” Katara asked quietly. She looked away from Zuko, embarrassed. She know she shouldn’t have these doubts, but they came to her anyways. She was a waterbender. Would she ever be good enough? What if the people refused her? 

Zuko reached out and cupped Katara’s cheek, gently pulling her face toward him. “Hey,” he said softly. “Look. I know you’re nervous, but honestly? I think the people of the Fire Nation love you more than they love me.” Katara scoffed slightly. Zuko offered her a crooked smile. “I’m serious!” He insisted. “You know they love you, Katara. They are going to be so happy. And even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t care. You would prove them wrong, I know you would. 

“If every person out there hated you now, I bet after just a week of being Fire Lady they wouldn’t. I love you, and that’s what’s important.” His gold eyes looked onto Katara with nothing but love and pure adoration. He leaned in, kissing her sweetly on the lips. 

When he pulled away, he smiled at her again. “I believe in you, Katara. I love you.” 

Katara smiled back at him, taking his hand in hers. “I love you, too.” And she did. She loved him so much. She would do anything for Zuko, no matter what. 

“Are you ready?” He asked. Katara nodded. 

The double doors opened. The sunlight shone on Katara, blinding her. Though she momentarily could not see, she could hear the Fire Sage’s booming voice. “Now presenting: Fire Lord Zuko and his betrothed, Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe!” 

She could also hear the deafening cheers and applause. 

Jon Snow x Baratheon!Reader Part 5

Hello! Could you write a Jon Snow imagine with the Baratheon Reader based on the last episode? Where she went with him beyond the wall and when he gets hurt someone literally has to pull her onto Drogon because she doesn’t want to leave him behind? And then her seeing him arrive at the wall?

Could you write a Jon snow x baratheon reader where the northern lords argue that she should stay in winterfell when Jon goes to dragonstone cuz she’s his queen but she says she’s going and jon’s like “I know better than to try to stop her”?

Omg please write a Jon Snow imagine with the Baratheon reader based on tonight’s episode!! Especially about him getting hurt and stuff

please please please write a jon x baratheon! reader based on episode 6!!

Baratheon reader taking care of Jon after he gets hurt?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

AN: Love for this mini series has been incredible thank you all sooooo much!!


When your feet hid the snowy ground of East Watch you felt a sigh of weird relief. You were back in the North and you were one step closer to being home and bringing peace to the world. You took a deep breath of the cold Northern air and continued inside.

You sat around the table with your good friend Tormund and the others telling them of the mission you faced over the wall. Tormund insisted on going, Gendry was ready for a war he couldn’t possibly imagine, Jorah was ready to get back to his Queen and Davos was staying back. “We’ll need more men,” you added.

So you ended up in the dungeons where the men had turned to boys and arguing over things that had long ago stopped mattering. “We are all on the same side,” you husband commanded. “Because we are all still breathing.” The men were let out of the dungeon and Jon spoke again. “Go get ready. But on all the furs you can and grab your weapons.” You, Jon, and Tormund stood in the common room getting ready.

“Are you sure you want to be coming out here Y/N,” Tormund asked. “It’d be better for you to head back to your castle.”

“You know the fighting that happened when Jon said he was going to Dragonstone? All the Lord hollard and whined like children. Then when I said I was going too they acted as though I was their mother, telling them they’d never eat again. They fought hard, trying to get me to stay. What did you tell them Jon, when they told you to stop me?”

“I know better than to try and stop her,” he grinned.

“When we married we vowed to have each other’s backs, always. Where he goes, I go. So if he goes beyond the wall as do I.”

The group of you left the safety of the wall and faced the cold storm on the other side. The snow was deep, the air was cold, and Gendry looked wide eyed over the scene in front of him. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen snow before,” Gendry beamed.

The hard journey continued and you continued trekking through the snow. “What are you smiling about,” you asked your husband who seemed zoned out as he looked at the white horizon.

“The first time we met,” he told you. “We were out here the first time I first saw you.” The loving look in his eye was overwhelming.

“It’s a bear,” you heard and the moment was ruined.

“A big one.”

“…Do bears usually have blue eyes?” You swore as you realized what that meant and took out your sword. The undead beast plowed over the members in your group and even got a hit on you as your blade went towards its head, sending you flying to the side. Once it was lit aflame and finally killed Beric pulled Thoros to the side and stopped his wound from bleeding.

The group continued on more cautions than ever. “That’s it,” the Hound’s voice interrupted your moment. “That’s the mountain I saw in the flames. A mountain shaped like an arrow’s head.”

“We’re close. Let’s keep going.” The hike started uphill and as you reached the top of the hill a noise reached your ears and Tormund halted the group. The noise seemed to get louder and everyone peered over the side rocks. A White Walker was walking passed with a group of the dead and your group got ready to pounce on the prey.

The fighting started quick and you went after the dead as Jon tackled the Walker. You cut down the dead and, just as you went to slide the arm off of the men holding Jorah’s neck, they all collapsed, except the one. You looked over and saw that Jon had taken down the White Walker.

Instead of dwelling on that you and the men automatically circled the last remaining walker and entrapped him. He yelled out a mighty screech and you realized his move after it was too late. The things mouth was covered and you and Jon looked up and watched as a low cloud of snow and ice came towards you.

“Gendry, run to East Watch. Get a raven to Daenerys, tell her what’s happened. Y/N, you must go with.

“No, I’m not leaving you.”

“You two are the fastest.”

“Gendry can make it himself I’m not leaving you,” you shouted.

“We don’t have time for this, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then you better keep me close.” A moment of understanding passed you and he gave Gendry the look, sending him off towards the Wall.

Your group ran towards the clearing trying to get into the mountains but as you hit the clearing the sound of cracking stopped you. “Stop,” you yelled and everyone stopped in place. You looked back and saw an army of dead running for you.

“Go,” Jon yelled and you all took off, running to beat the ice and the dead. You and Jon reached the island of rock first and watched as the dead circled you. You two pulled your weapons and got ready. The weight of them was too much though and you watched as the frontmen fell below the ice. The siege stopped and you were safe…for now.

******

The light was coming up again and you paced around the small rock. You stopped by Tormond and looked at the dead he watched. “Remember what I said was the best way to keep warm?”

“Yes,” you chuckled. “Forgive me if Jon and I aren’t in the mood to give you a show my friend.”

“Who said anything about Jon. I’m cold too,” he cracked a smile and you pushed his shoulder. You walked back over to your husband and coiled your arm around his.

“Your Wildling chief is putting the moves on me.”

His eyes never left the ring of the lake. “I wish you would have gone with Gendry.”

“Don’t worry, gingers aren’t my type.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he looked down at you. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be at the Wall. Safe and away from this.”

“I vow to never leave your side, no matter the challenges we might face. I promise to have your back and love you till death,” you recited the vows you had said to him during your wedding ceremony. “I meant everything I said that day.”

“As did I,” he lowered his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, trying to find peace. The sound of the Hound knocking the jaw off a walker caught your attention and you gave a small giggle. He picked up another rock and threw it but this time it came up short and you watched as it skidded over the ice…the ice that was reformed and ready for battle.

“Shit,” you cursed and got your blade out. The walkers began charging and the battle broke out. You tried to fought them off, you really did try, but you quickly saw that this fight was going to be lost. You saw Tormond hit the ice and you ran forward to get him. As you ran to his aid a loud roar erupted and you watched as fire from the dragons lit up the dead. You cut down those remaining on Tormond and grabbed his furs, pulling him back towards the men.

Two of the other’s grabbed Tormond and dragged him towards Daenerys and Drogon. You went back to fighting and only looked up as you heard the mighty yell of a dragon. The Night King had sent a spear to the heart of one of Daenerys children and you watched as they hit the ice and sunk.

“Jon,” you yelled. “We have to go.” When his eyes met yours you knew what he was going to try. “No,” you said more to yourself the first time. “No,” you yelled this time. Jon gave you a sad look before yelling back, “I love you.” He turned and charged towards the Night King.

“No!” You went to run towards him but the Hound’s arms wrapped around you. “No, let me go! Jon!” But no yelling could get you off the back of the dragon and out of the Hound’s arms. Daenerys took off and you watched mortified from above; tears freezing to your cheeks as you watched Jon get dragged under the ice. And in that moment you felt your heart turn to stone.

******

You looked out over the Wall with a blank face and heart. You heard the crunch of snow as Daenerys approached. “I fell in love with Jon right here on this wall,” you told her. “We were at Castle Black and he was stationed on duty. We had quickly connected when I reached the wall but that night I made my way up on top the wall for the first time and sat with him. We sat up and talked until the sun peaked over the white land and we knew, from that moment on, that we’d be stuck together.” A tear ran down your cheek as you spoke those memories out loud.

“The night we were married we promised, in front of the Gods and everyone, that we’d never leave each other’s side. I left his side today. I watched as he was forced under water and I broke my vow to him.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” she reassured. “He wanted you to go. The Hound took you away…I took you away. You didn’t leave his side.”

“Do you remember Sir Davos saying he took a dagger to the heart?” She nodded. “He’s not one for the theatrics. Jon was murdered by the men he called his Brothers and the Red Priestess brought him back. Those were the worst days of my life…watching his lifeless body lay on a table with a sad wolf at my feet. After he was brought back I pictured the next time I’d have to deal with his death, and convinced myself we’d be old and grey; surrounded by our children and our children’s children, and even maybe their children. Yet…here I am.” You turned to leave the wall after a final glance at the true North. “If you’ll forgive me. I have to get back to Winterfell.” You were less than 3 feet away when you heard the horn.

You turned and looked over the wall, your hands gripping the cold wall. A black horse was running as quick as it could towards the wall with a frozen white ball of fur on it’s back.

You ran as fast as you could and found yourself on the ground running towards the men that had gathered around the horse. You pushed them to the side to see him for yourself. “Jon,” you breathed.

“He’s alive,” Davos said. The group of men worked together and loaded him onto the ship you had taken to East Watch. You stood in the corner of the room frozen as you watched the men pry the frozen futs from Jon’s body. The torso you knew so well was covered in new cuts that matched the one he had healing over his heart. Once the cold clothes were taken off he was wrapped in blankets and there was nothing to do but wait.

You found yourself in a seat at the foot of his bed and waited, adding blankets when the compulsion pulled at you. You were memorizing every detail of his face for the thousandth time when your eyes met his now open ones. Tears automatically sprang from your eyes and a large grin covered your face.

“Hi,” he gave you a small smile.

“Hi,” you choked out between tears.

He took your hand in his, “Why are you crying?”

“Because I was so worried that I’d never see you again.”

“Guess I’m not that easy to kill,” he tried to make light.

“King Jon Snow, Warden of the North, Beater of Death,” you announced. “That’s what they shall call you now.” You brushed the curls from his face and rested your hand against his cheek. “Do you need anything? Ale, food, more blankets? I should get Daenerys, she wanted to talk to you. And I’ll have to check your bandages,” you went to get up from the bed but as you pulled away Jon pulled your hand.

“I am feeling a little cold.”

“I’ll get you more blankets.”

“No,” you didn’t understand. “I’ve heard the best way to warm up is from the heat of another.” He used what must have been all of his strength and pulled you back to the bed. “Forget the world for a second and lay with me.” You slipped out into your under clothes and slid down by his side under the covers, putting your head on his chest and an arm around him.

“Don’t you ever do that again to me Jon Snow. The next time you try and get yourself killed we better be old and grey or I’ll kill you myself.”

He rested his head on top of yours, “I vowed to stay by your side and that’s what I’ll do.”