When they handed her the babe, and she saw that he was not a girl, the first thing Lyanna said was, “Rhaegar would have been disappointed.”
Arthur Dayne looked up with surprise. “Prince Rhaegar would have been overjoyed with the birth of his son, my lady.”
You know nothing. You know nothing about your prince, you stupid, stupid fool.
She had known nothing too, when she took Rhaegar’s hand and fled with him. She had mistaken need for love, obsession for desire.
He wanted me!
He wanted a broodmare to bear him a daughter, another Visenya to complete the holy trinity and fulfill his precious prophecy.
I wanted him.
She wanted to break free from the shackles of a life received; a life determined and bound from cradle to grave, a prison she could never escape. She had believed him to be a kindred spirit, a fellow prisoner, desperately yearning for the freedom that often seemed tantalizingly close, but always, always, out of reach.
And now here she was, in a true prison, a prisoner to Rhaegar’s Kingsguard, men loyal still to their dead prince.
And there he was, dead and bloodied at the Trident, without a Visenya to make a third head for his dragon.
She wondered if that had been his last thought, or perhaps even his last words. Visenya. My precious Visenya.
Wages of sin, some would call it. Payment for all the bloodshed and the deaths. They deserved worse, some would say, the both of them.
Our child deserves better. An innocent, who could no more choose his father and mother than he could choose the moment of his birth.
“Let me go to my brother,” Lyanna demanded of Arthur Dayne, before her child was born, when she had strength still to stay on her feet.
“Your brother fights for Robert Baratheon. What do you think they would do to a child of Prince Rhaegar?”
“Ned fights for our murdered father and our murdered brother!”
“Even so, my lady.“
“Then find me a ship. I will go to the Free Cities. No one will need be troubled by me or by my child ever again.”
The Free Cities. That was where she had been led to believe they were heading, she and Rhaegar, when she took his hand and relinquished everything else. A new life, a new beginning, away from those who would seek to imprison them in a gilded cage.
Fool! I was a fool. She had thought herself brave and resourceful, but in truth, she had been a foolish child playing a foolish game, steered by a dark prince playing a darker game.
“We swore an oath to Prince Rhaegar, to stay at Tower of Joy and protect you and the child you are carrying. Do you think my sworn brothers and I would not rather be by Prince Rhaegar’s side, fighting this war?”
“I’m sure you would. And you should do so, immediately. Let me go, and then you can go to your precious prince.”
“No, my lady. I will not betray my oath. I cannot!”
“What do you think King Aerys would do to my child? A child with Stark blood, traitor’s blood in his eyes.”
Arthur Dayne looked uneasy. “The king would welcome his grandchild.”
A lie, and Arthur Dayne knew it too, Lyanna surmised from the way he quickly turned his head away, unable to sustain the weight of her accusing gaze.
Traveling With The Chocobros: Car Shenanigans Headcanons
Hey guys! I’m going to try really hard to post something on this blog once a day, but I am a full-time college student who’s also going out of town this weekend so I’m like 100 different kinds of busy right now! Anyways these are my headcanons for driving around with the chocobros! I hope you all enjoy!!
Summary: A simple little party in someone’s basement while their parents weren’t home. A simple little game meant for horny preteens trying to get to second base. It’s not supposed to be make or break for your heart, right? Right? Fluff. Multi-chap.
Okay, so I don’t know if any of my followers remember Quizilla. But Quizilla
was my first ever fanfiction website. And long before I was writing fanfiction
and posting it there, I was reading. And obviously, with a name like Quizilla,
the primary formatting of their website was quizzes. This meant that the fanfic
writers there actually came up with something very creative - a choose your own
adventure style fanfic, usually seven minutes in heaven. I saw these
everywhere. If you were in a fandom at the time then there was a 99% chance
that a seven minutes in heaven quiz existed for that fandom. Most of the ones I
read at the time were about Harry Potter. So anyway I’ll probably explain more about
this concept if asked, but I think you’ll get it as you go along. If you have
read the Quizilla ones then you’ll get it right off the bat. I’ve always always
always wanted to do one of these and I thought Seventeen was the perfect fandom
to do it for. I’m gonna have so much fun with this. I think the only warnings
are under aged drinking and light promiscuity?? Whatever have fun reading. This
is just the prelude before all the individual members parts, but I do recommend
reading for set up. -Tanisha<3)
got invited to parties like this more often than you went to them. You found it
more boring going out like this than anything. Your friend group had an odd
mixture of people who were of the drinking age and just under, leaving you all
with an odd conundrum - the older ones buying alcohol (never anything too
heavy) and simply watching in amusement of how the younger ones couldn’t hold
their illegal booze. This always gave these parties a distinctly ‘teenage’ vibe.
Usually in someone’s basement, or in a dark backyard when parents weren’t home,
with Top 40 music blasting in the background for people to embarrass themselves
little mouse emerges once the bird of prey has gone, only to find
that serpent still beside her” the faceless voice said mockingly,
leaning forward to the bars so you could see the silhouette of his
eyed him, trying to make out any of his features, though little
you knew I was here, why didn’t you tell Crowley?” you asked,
taking a small step towards him as you glanced back at the door.
why would I want to do that?” he replied, infuriatingly answering
your question with another question. Though you couldn’t see his
face, you got the impression that he was mocking you as you could
almost hear the grin in his words.
aggravated, your snark slipped into your words before you could reign
it in, “Boy, you must have done something really bad to earn a
personal cage in Hell.” You cocked your head, fixing him with a
glare as you kept your distance, while still trying to make out his
figure. Something shimmered and danced behind him, presumably a spell
of some kind. This guy was clearly bad news but your feet still
slipped closer toward him.
your tone” he bit back. Even behind bars the threat in his voice
was heavy and the words shook you.
air around him seemed cluttered, it wasn’t a spell or like anything
you’d seen before, it was more like a translucent mass hung around
him. Your brows furrowed as you got closer still, trying to squint
your eyes and tilt your head, thinking maybe you would see what it
was from a different angle. The chain around his neck jangled as he
shifted and you froze in place. You were still at least ten feet from
the cage, leery about getting any closer. You had no idea who or what
you were dealing with, and you were no hunter. Typically you stuck to
research while leaving the dirty work to the Winchesters.
mentioned Sam and Dean,” you recalled, having thought of the boys
reminding you to his comment. The dim lighting was beginning to
frustrate you as you paced back and forth like a caged tiger, growing
desperate to figure out what was around him. Your curiosity had
always been your weakness, which was perhaps how you ended up in Hell
in the first place.
a flaw in design that you apes are such curious little things.
Needing answers to questions that have no real relevance…” he
trailed off, watching you as you studied him. There was a deep seeded
anger buried in his voice and you couldn’t help but wonder who
wronged him so severely to have caused it.
you hurt me if I came closer?” you posed, stopping your pacing to
turn and face him, noting that the space between had dwindled to less
than 3 feet, though you didn’t recall consciously doing so.
you trust my answer if I gave you one?” he replied, tilting his
head like he spoke to a child, and though he was still seated,
leaning towards the bars of his cage, you still felt small before
his question over in your mind, you felt yourself drawn to trust him,
though you had no logical reason to. Regardless, you were skeptical,
and trust was a foolish game to play.
if you told me you wouldn't” you replied, almost embarrassed by
your answer. The feeling in your gut compelled you to speak the
truth, though your brain pleaded with you to not be so rash.
I were able, you would have been dead long before you even realized I
was here” he said coolly, though you got the impression he was more
trying to scare you than being truthful.
you’re not able” you reckoned, not so much as a question as a
statement of fact, looking at him a little more closely and seeing
just how bound he was in the tiny cage.
as she reads
a teasing little thought
about her mind
of her hidden hope
to find true love
that was confined
her sweetest dream
she dared not speak
continued to play
a foolish game
this illusion on replay
to finally feel
the succulent seal
upon on her lips
the most pure
and rare bliss
that always seemed
if only once
to not have to
read it from a book
or envy the strangers
while she look
upon true love’s
just one chance
to be embraced
to perfectly blend
as their brokenness
each shattered piece
desperate to be one
in the arms of a man
how to touch her
a man who
had taken time
the enigma that she was
to explore the intricate maze
each complexity confined
in her body
willing to console
the past that occurred
yet still stirred
and only lover
who looked upon her
with a clarity complete
not simply for the beauty
she outwardly displayed
but her luminous soul
that she relinquished
and with love
to join his own
within this dream
Dean Winchester, mention of Sam Winchester
Word Count: 1487
do you get when you mix a traditional day of pranks with a wise-ass Winchester,
a bumbling well-meaning angel, and a love-struck doubting reader? This
fluffy April Fools’ Day drabble, that’s what!
(not my GIF)
“Y/N?” Castiel tarried at the threshold of your open door scanning
the apparently occupant-less room.
Hair disheveled, sporting sleep rumpled pajamas, nestled
on the floor amidst a comfy pile of pillows and blankets on the far side of the
bed, lost in the pages of a book, you stifled a groan – the angel had developed
a particular knack as of late for catching you at the worst times. Just last
week he ran into you in the hall, or maybe it was the other way around. Either
way, you had been stark naked, having forgotten a towel for the shower and not
wanting to get your clothes wet, and engaged in a somewhat leisurely stroll to
your room under the mistaken belief you had the bunker to yourself. For several
days afterward, Cas maintained a curiously strong interest in the ceiling
whenever he was in your presence. It might have been amusing if it weren’t so
embarrassing – and also if you didn’t happen to be so head over heels in love
with the angel. Combing fingers haphazardly through tangled locks to smooth them,
you peeked over the mattress. “Hey Cas, what’s up?”
“Is this a bad time?” He took a tentative step further into
"Send me prompts and I'll write mini Gafou Drabble" Gaston gets hurt and Is a total baby about it and wants all of the attention and love from lefou
Gaston, Tom, Dick, and Stanley were currently having a competition on who could throw their knives up the highest and then catch them without losing their grip on the handles.
Lefou had tried to stop them from this foolish game. However, Gaston insisted, saying that he knew what he was doing, and with a sigh of exasperation, Lefou went over to stand with the crowd as the four individuals took the centre of the field.
Stanley, Dick, and Tom had all thrown their knives up consecutively, and caught them with minor difficulties. The crowd had either gasped or closed their eyes whenever it seemed like the knife would come down, either impaling the catcher or a nearby onlooker, but the catches had been successful thus far.
When it was Gaston’s turn to throw his knife, the crowd had set a piercing gaze on him, expecting a wonderful presentation from their heroic hunter.
Gaston had thrown the knife, further up than neither Stanley, Tom, and Dick had managed, and when the knife came down-
A loud shout had escaped Gaston. The villagers screamed and Lefou’s face had gone pale. He ran up to Gaston, who had fallen over to his side and was currently cradling his right hand.
“Let me see!” Lefou demanded, as he grabbed hold of Gaston’s right arm and thrust it towards his field of vision.
“Jesus Christ, Gaston.” Lefou said, without any sort of emotion to depict the severity of the current situation.
“It went right through me!” Gaston cringed. “How much blood is there? Oh God, I can’t look. I feel faint. I’m gonna need to get it amputated, aren’t I.” Gaston dramatically proclaimed, which caused Lefou to giggle and Gaston looked up at him, horrified.
“How dare you laugh at me! I’m hurt, Lefou! This isn’t something to laugh about!” Gaston said in utter shock.
“Babe, ‘tis but a scratch. See?” Lefou brought Gaston’s arm up so Gaston could see the damage for himself, and there was indeed a cut on his palm, but not deep enough that amputation would even be necessary.
“Look at the damage! It will take ages to heal. Oh Lefou, whatever shall I do?” Gaston asked, his voice dripping with the utmost seriousness.
“Don’t worry, my delicate bear, I will make sure that this heals in no time.” Lefou said, as a small smile lit up Gaston’s face.
“Could you carry me home? I don’t think I can walk…”
“Have you had your head knocked in by a butterfly as well?” Lefou asked, facepalming at Gaston’s dramatics.
Stanley, Dick, Tom, and Lefou helped carry Gaston back home - even though Gaston could have walked on his own - and had gotten him settled into bed.
Once it was only Lefou and Gaston alone in the house, Lefou had kissed Gaston on the cheek and had been getting ready to leave when Gaston’s voice suddenly stopped Lefou.
“Don’t go, Lefou. I need you here with me. To make sure I don’t die from the blood loss.” Gaston said, with an amused glint in his eyes.
“I see.” Lefou said, as he took off his boots and coat, and settled into bed next to Gaston.
“I love you, you drama queen.” Lefou said, with much love and affection.
“I love you too. Now, are you sure it doesn’t need to get amputated?”
send me prompts here and i’ll write a “mini” gafou fic!
You forgot about me. I was standing right beside you like I had for so long, but you forgot me. But I can’t forget you. The songs that remind me of you make me want to cry. Sometimes I think I hear your laughter when in a crowded place. I still even avoid some of the foods we used to share… It’s been about 3 years… The first year I was upset and hurt. I was really angry too. It kept cycling between both of them, some days I wanted to scream and kick and hurt you. Some days I wanted to disappear and cry and I wished I didn’t exist. The second year, it hurt my friends the most. You broke me so badly that almost every word that came from my mouth oozed with self-loathing. Luckily, one of them was patient enough to help fix me back up, at least get me back on my feet again. This is the third year. Your smile, your braces, your mispronounced words, your foolish games, your anger, your cold stares, your disappointment… All of those images and sounds still echo in my head… I know I’m long gone in your memories, but you’re still here. I just wish you weren’t.
Two base verses depend upon whether the interaction is modern or period.
Period: v: these foolish games [dark:period]
Modern: v: dark eyes and careless hair [dark:modern]
The Enchantress never comes to Adam’s ball that night and he becomes completely consumed by his sinful lifestyle. Turning most of his staff out but a few of his most trusted friends, he begins to send them out to break into village homes and take things that may be appealing to him. Including men and women that he might want to have his way with.
Adam Bertrand went AWOL from the army two years ago, and never made contact with any of his friends. His family has been dead for years, and before joining the military he was not in any relationship (that they know about). While the people who knew him wonder about his disappearance, Adam has been working as an enforcer for a mob boss out of San Diego. Dangerous, cunning and well trained, Adam is sent out after perceived threats need to be dealt with. And he never misses his target.
I am open to pre-established relationships for modern verse that his superiors just didn’t know about.
Will he stay dark in these verses? Just kind of depends. But I’d like to have the option to always have a place to play out an angstier prince.
(part 2 of 2) Dorephan is so happy that he got roped into this family game. Sidon being Sidon drops down from above and nabs Nami. Sidon tells her she's cheating by using her Grandpa. They take off to find Link. Dorephan is just so freaking happy, then he feels something touching his side and it's Freaking LINK using him to hide now. They have a tiny bonding moment between Father/son-in-law. Then, cause dorephan is a shit, he yells out Links hiding place. Link just looks at him like; betRAYAL
“That was a lot, but I hope you might have liked it? I was thinking it would be before they adopt the boys and Mipha. I am totaaly not going to be offended if you don’t want to use it. It’s just something I thought of while eating breakfast. (btw I’m the reader that commented that you made me cry with the latest chapter)”
So I am very sad because for some reason I can’t find the first part of this ask but I HAVE BEEN SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!
I couldn’t help myself. I made a silly little one shot out of this prompt, but you can expect that I will absolutely be using this as just a permanent facet of SidLink family life. Like. So happy. I am just so pleased! Thank you for sharing this!! I’m sorry I made you cry with the last chapter! I hope it was good tears at least! Ahaha~