for battles once fought

for a moment I thought
it was you that I caught
in my line of sight
reliving once more
the battles we fought
night after
after night

but it was just light fall
casting shadows on the wall
where we used to sleep
echoes of the past
causing me to recall
what ye sow
so shall ye

in the glow
of morning’s lighting
I came to know
I was the only one

reliving my pain
as shadows
in the

Drogon is Lightbringer.

Here are some clues I found showing Drogon being described as Lightbringer.  I think it’s also possible that a important sword (maybe made out of dragonglass or even the sword Dawn) can play a role in killing the Night’s King, however, Drogon is probably what the prophecy was referring to.

First, let’s look at the Qarthian origin story of dragons From AGOT:

“He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi,” the Lysene girl said. “Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand thousand dragons poured forth, and drank the fire of the sun. That is why dragons breathe flame. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return.“

Compare that to the story of how AAR forged Lightbringer:

“The third time, with a heavy heart, for he knew before hand what he must do to finish the blade, he worked for a hundred days and nights until it was finished. This time, he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa, and asked her to bare her breast. He drove his sword into her breast, her soul combining with the steel of the sword, creating Lightbringer, while her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon.”

And now let’s compare that to the birth of Dany’s dragons:

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. The platform of wood and brush and grass began to shift and collapse in upon itself. Bits of burning wood slid down at her, and Dany was showered with ash and cinders. And something else came crashing down, bouncing and rolling, to land at her feet; a chunk of curved rock, pale and veined with gold, broken and smoking. The roaring filled the world, yet dimly through the firefall Dany heard women shriek and children cry out in wonder.

Only death can pay for life.

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. She heard the screams of frightened horses, and the voices of the Dothraki raised in shouts of fear and terror, and Ser Jorah calling her name and cursing. No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world.

This is very specific wording used by GRRM. The cracking of the moon or the eggs is what ties in the birth of the dragons with the creation of Lightbringer. Also note the smoke is whirling around Dany, i.e. born among smoke and salt (Dothraki sea).


Here are some interesting quotes regarding the comet:

“The Dothraki named the comet shierak qiya, the Bleeding Star. The old men muttered that it omened ill, but Daenerys Targaryen had seen it first on the night she had burned Khal Drogo, the night her dragons had awakened. It is the herald of my coming, she told herself as she gazed up into the night sky with wonder in her heart. The gods have sent it to show me the way. “

“As the handmaids toweled her dry and wrapped her in a sandsilk robe, Dany’s thoughts went to the three who had sought her out in the City of Bones. The Bleeding Star led me to Qarth for a purpose. Here I will find what I need, if I have the strength to take what is offered, and the wisdom to avoid the traps and snares. If the gods mean for me to conquer, they will provide, they will send me a sign, and if not … if not … “

From Dany’s fevered dream as she miscarries Rhaego, we see the imagery of the burning heart, but instead of her husband, it is her child:

“…She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo’s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin….”

Melissandre when reciting the prophecy of Azor Ahai refers to Lightbringer as a burning sword:

“In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him.”

Now let’s look at how Xaro Xhoan Daxos refers to the dragons in ADWD:

“When your dragons were small they were a wonder. Grown, they are death and devastation,  a flaming sword above the world.

Finally, we have this very interesting passage from one of Jon’s ADWD chapter, he’s reading a passage Maester Aemon marked for him in the Jade Compendium:

“I looked at that book Maester Aemon left me. The Jade Compendium. The pages that told of Azor Ahai. Lightbringer was his sword. Tempered with his wife’s blood if Votar can be believed. Thereafter Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm. In battle the blade burned fiery hot. Once Azor Ahai fought a monster. When he thrust the sword through the belly of the beast, its blood began to boil. Smoke and steam poured from its mouth, its eyes melted and dribbled down its cheeks, and its body burst into flame.” Clydas blinked. “A sword that makes its own heat …” “… would be a fine thing on the Wall.”

Now compare that to Dany’s description of what happened to Kraznys mo Nakloz during the sack of Astapor:

“There is a reason. A dragon is no slave.” And Dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy’s fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.” The black dragon spread his wings and roared. A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head.”

These quotes from the books show a connection to not only what Lightbringer is but what it can do. All these quotes have been left for us the reader throughout the series, All the way at the beginning of AGOT to almost the end of ADWD.

Dany herself is referred to as light, a few times throughout the series.

From Daenerys III ACOK, Xaro says this to Dany:

“Marry me, bright light and sail the ships of my heart”

Daenerys IV, The House of the Undying:

“ They were reaching for her, touching her, tugging at her cloak, the hem of her skirt, her foot, her leg, her breast. They wanted her, needed her, the fire, the life, and Dany gasped and opened her arms to give herself to them …”

An interesting note to the Light and Life describe within Dany. In Spanish when we say a woman has given birth we say “dar a luz” which literally translate “to give light” or “to bring light  [into the world]”. The opposite of what the death the Others bring with them is LIFE. Who better to bring life to give life than a Mother.

redheadedwhat  asked:

So, Dany is 'The Stallion Who Mounts the World' and 'The Prince That Was Promised', is she also 'Azor Ahai'? Or are all three different versions of the same legend/prophecy? And since Jon is also a PTWP and most say he is 'Azor Ahai' could he be considered TSWMTW? Sorry if these questions seem sort of like 'ugh, semantics!', but I'm just trying to figure out which prophecy belongs to which character.

I think all three legendary figures are part of the same legend – or to be more accurate, there are multiple legends and prophecies all based around the same historical event. The Long Night was worldwide, and multiple cultures have legends of a great hero who ended it.

…the Long Night, when a season of winter came that lasted a generation—a generation in which children were born, grew into adulthood, and in many cases died without ever seeing the spring. Indeed, some of the old wives’ tales say that they never even beheld the light of day, so complete was the winter that fell on the world. While this last may well be no more than fancy, the fact that some cataclysm took place many thousands of years ago seems certain. Lomas Longstrider, in his Wonders Made by Man, recounts meeting descendants of the Rhoynar in the ruins of the festival city of Chroyane who have tales of a darkness that made the Rhoyne dwindle and disappear, her waters frozen as far south as the joining of the Selhoru. According to these tales, the return of the sun came only when a hero convinced Mother Rhoyne’s many children—lesser gods such as the Crab King and the Old Man of the River—to put aside their bickering and join together to sing a secret song that brought back the day.
It is also written that there are annals in Asshai of such a darkness, and of a hero who fought against it with a red sword. His deeds are said to have been performed before the rise of Valyria, in the earliest age when Old Ghis was first forming its empire. This legend has spread west from Asshai, and the followers of R’hllor claim that this hero was named Azor Ahai, and prophesy his return. In the Jade Compendium, Colloquo Votar recounts a curious legend from Yi Ti, which states that the sun hid its face from the earth for a lifetime, ashamed at something none could discover, and that disaster was averted only by the deeds of a woman with a monkey’s tail.


In the annals of the Further East, it was the Blood Betrayal, as [the Bloodstone Emperor’s] usurpation is named, that ushered in the age of darkness called the Long Night. Despairing of the evil that had been unleashed on earth, the Maiden-Made-of-Light turned her back upon the world, and the Lion of Night came forth in all his wroth to punish the wickedness of men.
How long the darkness endured no man can say, but all agree that it was only when a great warrior—known variously as Hyrkoon the Hero, Azor Ahai, Yin Tar, Neferion, and Eldric Shadowchaser—arose to give courage to the race of men and lead the virtuous into battle with his blazing sword Lightbringer that the darkness was put to rout, and light and love returned once more to the world.


The Last Hero of Northern Westeros legend is another one of these historical figures who stopped the Long Night.

How the Long Night came to an end is a matter of legend, as all such matters of the distant past have become. In the North, they tell of a last hero who sought out the intercession of the children of the forest, his companions abandoning him or dying one by one as they faced ravenous giants, cold servants, and the Others themselves. Alone he finally reached the children, despite the efforts of the white walkers, and all the tales agree this was a turning point. Thanks to the children, the first men of the Night’s Watch banded together and were able to fight—and win—the Battle for the Dawn: the last battle that broke the endless winter and sent the Others fleeing to the icy north.


“I found one account of the Long Night that spoke of the last hero slaying Others with a blade of dragonsteel. Supposedly they could not stand against it.”
“Dragonsteel?” The term was new to Jon. “Valyrian steel?”
“That was my first thought as well.”


Which interestingly bears resemblance to a story of Azor Ahai:

“I looked at that book Maester Aemon left me. The Jade Compendium. The pages that told of Azor Ahai. Lightbringer was his sword. Tempered with his wife’s blood if Votar can be believed. Thereafter Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm. In battle the blade burned fiery hot. Once Azor Ahai fought a monster. When he thrust the sword through the belly of the beast, its blood began to boil. Smoke and steam poured from its mouth, its eyes melted and dribbled down its cheeks, and its body burst into flame.”


Melisandre believes that the prophecy of Azor Ahai Reborn and the prophecy of the Prince that was Promised are the same thing. (Whether she’s right or not, we don’t know, but Maester Aemon doesn’t correct her when she makes that claim.) Since she uses the names interchangeably, it’s hard to tell what the differences between the prophecies are, but both seem to refer to a hero who will be born under a bleeding star, amidst salt and smoke, who will wake dragons from stone. Only TPTWP seems to be connected to the concept that “the dragon must have three heads”, however, and only TPTWP was prophesied to come from the line of Aerys and Rhaella.

And as for the Stallion Who Mounts the World:

“What does it mean?” she asked. “What is this stallion? Everyone was shouting it at me, but I don’t understand.”
“The stallion is the khal of khals promised in ancient prophecy, child. He will unite the Dothraki into a single khalasar and ride to the ends of the earth, or so it was promised. All the people of the world will be his herd.”

–AGOT, Daenerys V

A Dothraki prince that was promised in prophecy– that’s way too similar to “the prince that was promised” for me to think that they’re not connected. Especially since “the ends of the earth” is a good definition for what lies beyond the curtain of light at the end of the world, where the Others come from. Or, in a previous iteration of history, whatever lies beyond the Five Forts. Note also the ancient Valyrian prophecy that the Doom of Man would come from Westeros.

Anyway, who’s who or who’s which? I don’t think it really matters. Jon and Dany are Azor Ahai and they’re the Prince that was Promised, because the dragon must have three heads, because they are the song of ice and fire, because the first Long Night was stopped by Hyrkoon the Hero, Azor Ahai, Yin Tar, Neferion, Eldric Shadowchaser, the Yi Tish woman with the monkey’s tail, the Rhoynar singing hero, and the Last Hero. There are multiple aspects of both prophecies, and both Jon and Dany will fulfill them. (As will a third person, perhaps, maybe with more aspects of the Last Hero.)

Regarding TSWMTW specifically – because Dany is likely to be the only one to majorly interact with the Dothraki, especially the dosh khaleen, they’re likely to only recognize her as the Stallion. But it’s possible Jon might be recognized as well if he eventually encounters any Dothraki, or if we get more details of that prophecy it’ll match things we know about him. We’ll just have to wait and see…

Shield Maiden

(Might possibly do more imagines of the Vikings cast! I love the show so much

ALSO I REALLY think this would be an AMAZING fanfic ( I mean it’s so long because I shortened it, so it wouldn’t be 4000 words, but there is so much I could add. ), but I don’t know if I should write it here. What do you think? LET ME KNOW <3 )

Title: Shield Maiden
Requested? No.
Plot: You are a shield maiden, you’ve known Björn your whole life and watched him fall in love and share his life with other women, never confessing your feelings to him. He soon starts having some feelings for you, and one faithful event causes him to see his true feelings for you, only this time, you want nothing to do with him.
Warnings: Cursing.
Word count: 2028


The children’s laughter filled the air. Erik and several other children you were taking care of were trying to braid your hair as you held Refil in your arms. Guthrum was playing with the older children, but close enough for you to keep an eye on him. You loved all children, but you loved those three boys the most, because you also felt that this was a way for you to be near a part of him. A part of the man you loved all this time, ever since you were little.The man you watched fall in love with other women, when your heart ached for him. You know Björn ever since you were kids. Growing up together, you started having feelings for him. You were planning to confess everything to him one night, but you noticed he was taking an interest in a slave girl named Þórunn. During the day leading up to the night you wanted to confess your feelings to Björn, you were walking through the woods and saw him about to have sex with the slave girl.

Your heart broke and you decided not to tell him how you feel. You stayed silent and supportive as his love for her was growing, and eventually they got married and Þórunn became pregnant. Being a shield maiden, close to Lagertha, you got to fight next to his side, and tried your best to focus on living your own life. Soon, due to her loss of confidence after her face was scarred during one battle, Þórunn disappeared out of Björn’s life, leaving her daughter Siggy behind. You had left to live with Lagertha, rather than staying close to Aslaug, who you hated to the core, but you came back to Kattegat to see how Björn was doing. When he told you what happened you told him you would do anything you can to help him. He smiled at you and thanked you, your heart feeling like it was gonna jump out of your chest. You prayed to the Gods every day to keep him safe when he left to the woods in the winter.

Once you saw him arrive at Lagertha’s earldom one day, you couldn’t be happier, that is until you heard that he came there to take Torvi with him to Kattegat. Once again, you were left to look on as he was with another woman. Lagertha knew you loved Björn, and would often console you when you felt like you missed him too much. Years passed, Erik was born, and than Refil, and you started to think that you would never get to tell Björn how you felt about him. One day you saw him walk off with Astrid, Lagertha’s right hand, and decided to follow them. But you regretted you decision once you saw they were having sex.
“I fucking hate him. I hate him! That asshole!”
You yelled and trashed your room until Torvi came in to calm you down. You couldn’t tell her what you saw, no matter how much you wanted to. You wanted to destroy him, but that was just the spur of the moment, and you knew that. So you continued to act like everything was alright.

You looked up from Refil’s adorable little cheeks with a smile on your face and were met with a pair of beautiful blue eyes, the eyes you loved so much. Björn was staring at you having fun with the children, and he had a focused look on his face, trying to pinpoint if the pace his heart was beating at was because he was running, or if it had something to do with you. That night, when you put the children down to bed you slowly exited the room, only to bump into someone’s chest and strong arms wrapped around you. You almost screamed, but you noticed it was Björn. You two spent a few moments staring into each others eyes, when he suddenly pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t know how to react, so you instinctivly kissed back, but you soon pushed him away and slapped him. You tried walking away, but he pulled you back to his chest.
“I know you love me.”
He whispered, to your shock. How did he know? Did he talk to Lagertha? You decided that you didn’t want to have anything to do with him now.
“Yes, I do. But I am not going to be your fourth choice. I value myself more than that.” 
You whispered back and wiggled out of his grip, this time, he let you walk away.

Throughout the following weeks, you were trying your hardest to stay away from Björn, but he wasn’t making it easy for you. Brushing up against you as he was walking by “accidentally”, spending a lot more time with the children than usual, watching you train, so many little things nobody could notice, but that were happening. You sighed as you watched the boats leaving Kattegat. Ones were going with king Ragnar and Ivar to England, and the others with Björn and Hvitserk to explore the Mediterranean Sea. A mix of worry and relief in your sigh, being away from Björn is going to make it easier to move on, but the thought of him getting harmed badly during the raid made your stomach drop. His icy blue eyes never left your figure until he couldn’t see you anymore.

He sat back in his boat as it continued forward, thinking if he was going to miss you. And he did, very much. He began to understand he needed you in his life, one way or another, although he would prefer you being his wife. As he stood next to his brother, king Harald and Halfdan, looking over at the sea, he felt a sting in his heart. He turned around and so did Hvitserk, both noticing a black raven. They immediately knew what that meant.

“My father is dead.”

Björn said as he knew it was Odin’s raven, giving them the message that Ragnar was dead. The rest of his brothers were visited by Odin himself, and soon everyone important to king Ragnar knew he was gone.

How the little piggies will grunt when they hear how the old boar suffered.

There was only one thing on their minds now. Revenge. And of course you wanted to be a part of it.

“No, Y/N. You are not going.”
Björn shut you down even before you asked him if you could come with them. You stood there with a confused look on your face and your hands raised in confusion as you watched him sharpen his axe. When you asked him why he gave you the old fashioned response how he didn’t want you to get hurt and that it was his fight. You were annoyed, but your brain started figuring out ways you could sneak in so you just replied to him with “Fine” and waked off. “I’ll show this fucker, he hasn’t seen the last of me.”, you thought to yourself. Grabbing a cloak from your sisters room you put it on and it covered you perfectly, the hood hiding your hair. Once you told Lagertha of your plans she nodded at you and told you to be careful, and to look out for yourself and others. She always felt like you were a daughter to her, and was glad you were going, you climbed on one of the boats and sat down, trying not to be spotted until you sailed. And to your joy it worked. You were already long gone until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“I should have known you were up to something when you gave up so quickly when I told you that you can’t come.”
You tried pretending you didn’t hear him, knowing all too well he was talking to you, once you felt a hand under your arm and you were lifted off to your feet, your hood sliding off your head. Turning around you were met face to face with Björn. And he looked like he was ready to argue. And so were you. You two began bickering until Hvitserk decided to step in.
“We’re already too far away to send her back, we have no other choice but to take her with us.”
“I could throw her over into the water and she could swim back.”
Björn said, eyes glued to you, annoyance filling them.
“Like it or not Ironside, I’m coming with you, and you can’t do anything about it, so let me go.”
You said, yanking your arm from his grip and sitting back down, leaving him to stare at you for a while until he decided to go back to the front of the boat.

Once you arrived to England it was time to act out on the revenge plot. They were going to get what they deserve. The Great Heathen Army, lead by Ivar’s tactic were rushing into a fight with the army of king Aelle. You recalled when Rangar told you about a brutal punishment in the viking world. The Blood Eagle. And you swore on your life king Aelle was going to meet that fate. King Ragnar came into your dreams, showing you what they did to him in the last moments of his life and that just fueled your rage. Once kin Aelle was defeated and you watched on as they hung him high after The Blood Eagle, you couldn’t help but feel content. Now it was time to figtht to get to king Ecbert. The battle was well on it’s way when you looked over to Björn just to see him get injured and fall to the ground.

You yelled out his name and rushed over to his side, fighting off whoever tried to harm him while he was down. Once you saw a good chance, you used all your strength to pull him away from the battle. Ripping the cloth from your sleeve you made a makeshift bandage and covered his wound.
“Don’t you dare die on me Björn! Do you hear me?! Don’t you fucking die on me!”
You yelled, tears forming in your eyes, you can’t lose him, you just can’t. You didn’t even get to tell him the whole story behind your love. Suddenly you felt his hand wipe your tears away.
“Don’t worry, your won’t get rid of me that easily.”
He said with a small smirk and soon was back on his feet, ready to fight. Nevertheless, you stayed by his side as he fought, and once the battle was over and Ecbert was probably killing himself in his roman bath, you continued to tend to Björn’s injury as you left the new settlement and were on your way home.

A few days later, when he was all healed up, Björn arrived at your doorstep. You were shocked when he left a gentle kiss on your lips and than your forehead. His blue orbs piercing your skin as he told you how sorry he was that you were not his first choice and that if he could turn things around he would have chosen you. You had never seen this side of him before, the fact that he was telling you his true fellings surprised you, and your heart started beating faster.
“The most important thing is that I love you Y/N. Please give me a chance.”
He stated at the end of his monologue about how he made a mistake in never noticing you. Once you mentioned the fact he was with Torvi, he told you the she as just the mother of his children and that he never really loved her, even though he thought he did. You decided to give in, let your heart win over your head for once.
“You are lucky I love you Björn, you know that?”
You stated with a smile, making him chuckle slightly before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a more passionate kiss. He couldn’t wait for you to be his wife and to spend the rest of his life with you.

Guys I’m sorry it took so long and that I’m always gone for long, but here is an imagine for all of you who love the Viking series as much as I do. PS I know it’s Torvi in the last gif,b  but pretend it’s not. UGH I hate her. But anyway I hope you enjoyed the imagine and will continue to follow my blog. I have so many things in store <3 <3 <3

Tags:  @imagine-this-motherfucker

Rise Up

Chapter Four

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 4872
Warnings: Swearing, fighting, angst

Song: Game of Survival by Ruelle

The original team had, again, gathered off on their own away from the compound within the bunker (Y/N) had been stashed in during her training exercise with Garry so many weeks ago. This time, however, it was not a training exercise which had them all milling about, but a demonstration, one a few of the team had decided to insist on, and one Matt had been, if not eager to be involved in, at least highly agreeable to.

Steve watched the man known as Daredevil from his stance beside his girl, arms crossed over his chest while Bucky warmed up a few feet away. He wasn’t quite sure what Matt was doing, but he was very still, his chest barely rising and falling.

Black cargo pants, combat boots, a fitted long sleeve t-shirt, and wrapped knuckles completed the look, that was until he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a skull cap he tugged down over his eyes.

Keep reading

Okay so now I have the little ideas if the Inquisitor was a Dalish elf, but a kid. Maybe 12 or 13.

  • The kid having to sleep in a cabin alone for the first time
  • Solas being the parental role model 
  • The kid knocking on Solas door in the middle of the night teary eyed and shivering saying that they had a bad dream. Solas takes a blanket off his bed and wraps it around the kid and holds their hand making them feel safe as they drift off to sleep. 
  • Solas protecting them while they are in the fade. Chasing demons away from the fade wandering elf.
  • Them having to learn that their clan mates died in the blast
  • Solas and Varric telling them stories. Varrics are always of Hawke or some vast adventure, while Solas’s are of battles once fought, stories of his travels in the fade or ones of random spirits.
  • Varric and Solas having a dad off
  • The kid not knowing which fork or knife to use and they end up getting frustrated and pulls out a spork/ knife thing they made from bits of scrap metal they found by the forge. 
  • Leliana and Josephine fawning over them when it’s time to go to the Winter Palace. Leliana wants blue shoes with a blue bow, while Josephine thinks heeled nug leather boots would go better with their outfit and eyes. 
  • On their birthday, the kid Dalish awkwardly walking up to Solas and trying to explain how their clan’s customs work. That on their __ birthday, the child would go through the ‘coming of’ ritual where they’d get their vallaslin. Typically it’s placed on them by their keeper or a trusted Haren. The kid then studders to ask if Solas would be willing to tattoo their vallaslin. 
  • Sera and the kid pranking everyone, Sera also takes this time to try and show them how to use a bow.
  • Bull teaching them how to use a shield and sword. Eventually, they have mock fights where Bull finds out that the kid can climb onto his horns and hold on really frigging well. 
  • Cullen teaches them chess. The kids a bloody prodigy and before the end of the week has beaten the commander twice.
  • The kid being terrified when they meet Corypheus, but ends up calling him some childish nickname. 
  • When meeting with the Dalish clan in the Exalted Plains, the kid has to choose between the comforts of a home they once knew and the home they now have. 

I need a fic of this or something. The kid asking Solas for the vallaslin I think would make for an interesting scene. 


“In your life there will always be opposition. Sometimes it’s in the form of an enemy. With a simple equation of hard work, determination, training harder & smarter than your opponent, you will be able to vanquish them. Every once in a while, you will have a worthy opponent. Somebody that you deserve to be in there with; somebody that deserves to have a real fight, a real battle. And win or lose, you are going to come out of that battle all the better for it. Having fought a hard fight, you will have a glimpse into what it’s like inside of you when you have to fight hard.

The most challenging of all resistance comes from within. The similarity with all warriors is that they are always battling with the demons within themselves. It’s a constant battle (a relentless one) that has to be fought nonstop: of wanting to quit, wanting to sit on the couch, wanting to hit the snooze bar. Those small battles have to be fought over and over again. Once you start winning those battles, and overcoming them, more often than not you start being able to see something be forced within you. You start being able to see the potential for greatness, to be epic, to be unique, original, and perhaps to do something that’s never been done before.”  -Tim Kennedy




I’d decided to book a week off work, with no ulterior motive than to just have some time off. Just giving myself a little room to breathe, some time to clear my head, to relax and immerse myself in having no worries and doing absolutely nothing; to be blissfully un-busy.
By the Monday afternoon I was bored.

I was stood looking around my flat in silence, arms folded, bottom lip extended, and it was only in that moment that I realised being un-busy didn’t really suit me. Not anymore. Maybe when I was younger, it was fine, but after having a full-time job and living on my own had awoken this need in me to actually keep myself busy.

“Well fuck.” I mumbled to myself. “This is rubbish.”

I’d made such a fuss about taking the time off. Dave had once again been reluctant, but I’d fought another battle and he’d finally caved. I couldn’t ring up and just be like I’ve changed my mind because he’d laugh and get smug, and I’d spend the rest of the week at that sat at that desk being utterly miserable.
I needed to try and make the most of this time off.
I picked up my phone and clicked on my recent calls, finding Harry’s name within seconds and then pressing it, holding the phone up to my ear and praying he’d be free. The rest of the gang were at work, Mo was working, and Harry was one of my final hopes.
He answered pretty quickly.

“Hey, you.” His tender voice called.

“Hi! You okay?”

“I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m alright, but I’m bored. I booked a week off work and I have no idea why. I’m like… four hours in and I’m bored out of my mind.”

He released a low chuckle, a slight shuffling sound pushing through my speakers, and I could picture his dimpled smile perfectly.

“You regretting it?” He asked.

“Well, that depends. Are you working?”

“No, um, I’m working the weekend so I have today and tomorrow off. You wanna do something?”

“I need to do something.”

“So you’re using me for entertainment?”

“Are you complaining?” I raised my brows.

“Not at all.”

I smiled down to the floor, blushing somewhat, pleased that he didn’t mind that he was now on my list of people who I wanted to spend my time with. Harry was happy that I was choosing him to keep me occupied; to extinguish my boredom.

“Good. You better not be.” I cooed. “So, what can we do?”

“I was thinking the other day, about the book you got me for Christmas. I was looking through it. I still love it, by the way.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“But I was also thinking… you never took me down to that bookstore. Where you got it from. You said you would.”

“I did.” I giggled.

“So let’s go, and we’ll take the day from there.”


I was looking at Harry rather than looking at the literature.
His eyes were glistening as he glanced over the words of a giant book he’d picked out, something historical that looked ridiculously complicated and ridiculously heavy.
But he looked so happy.
Stood among the poetry and wonder of the written word, Harry Styles looked exquisitely blissful, his smile affectionate, his curls defined, eyes alight and heart heavy. He looked wonderful. Truly beautiful.
I concentrated on his large hands as he flicked through a few more pages, running his hands down the paper and inhaling the scent of the book in his hands and those that surrounded him.
The bookstore was tiny, and every single shelf looked like it could fall apart at any second under the weight of the books they’d homed. Every single inch of the place needed painting, or at least dusting, but it was perfect. It felt like home whenever I walked in. Dodging down those tiny little aisles and searching for hidden treasures was one of my favourite things to do.
Harry seemed to be enjoying it too.

“I need this book.” He sighed wistfully. “But we have entire day planned, and it’s just gunna weigh me down, isn’t it?”

“It looks heavy.”

“It’s pretty fucking heavy.” He nodded, placing it back on the shelf. “I’ll have to come back another day. I hope it’s not gone.”

“It won’t be. I’m pretty sure Arthur only has about ten people who come in here. He knows everyone by name. He’s great.”

“Well, I need to meet him.”

“You do. C’mon.”

I instinctively took his hand in mine, pulling him towards the back of the store, whispering a timid curse to myself when I noticed Harry tightened his fingers around my hand. I thought back to when we’d shared a taxi just over a week ago, and found our fingers intertwining, and it had felt like the most normal thing in the world.
It didn’t feel normal in the light of day without a drink in me. I could tell that it was weird that I’d just naturally take his hand in mine and think barely anything of it. I found that my fingers wove through his like silk, our touches easing together.
And even though I was silently cringing as I dragged him in the right direction, wondering how we’d ended up being that way together, I still didn’t want to pull my hand from his. I liked that I could feel his thumb rubbing against my skin, like a silent comfort. I liked that my hand was stretched to suit the size of his grasp.
I liked everything about it.

“Arthur!” I yelled gently.

We stood behind the tiny counter at the back, our hands still linked, and a few moments later he pottered through the back door, his glasses falling off the end of his nose before he pushed them back up, bringing the two of us into focus.

“Florence!” His smile grew with the word. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been busy, but I’ve still been raving about this place, don’t worry.” I giggled. “I brought a friend of mine. This is Harry.”

Harry automatically reached his hand across the counter to the frail man, who reached back, and his smile warmed my soul.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Harry greeted.

“I can’t remember the last time someone called me sir.” Arthur chuckled, gently shaking his hand.

“I told Harry all about this place. He’s been very eager to visit.”

“You have a lovely store.” Harry returned his hand to his side, squeezing my own hand with his other. “It’s a great collection.”

“Thank you. I’m very glad you like it. What’s your name again, sorry?”


“And are you Florence’s boyfriend?”

“No!” He replied quickly, the two of us speedily tearing our touch apart. “We’re just um… We’re good friends.”

Arthur let out a soft snigger, shaking his head at the two of us. I glanced up to Harry, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes, and the sweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’ve read enough novels to know how that turns out.” Arthur finally said.

“You must have been reading some cheesy novels.” I tried to diminish the weight of the words he’d just said.

“All the great novels are.” He concluded.

Freckles of pink were blooming in Harry’s cheeks, a meadow of flushed roses crafting upon his soft skin as he looked towards his feet, bashful and giddy over just a few words.
My stomach bounced watching him.
My head ached watching him.
I’d told myself that I wanted to enter this new stage of our friendship with an open mind and an open heart, but it still felt completely bizarre when my stomach would flip over such minor tremors in his body, how sometimes even just a few words from his lovely lips could make my heart beat a little harder. It wasn’t a feeling I was accustom to. Watching him often felt like watching the sunset. This feeling that was overwhelming, consuming, magnificent and warm, like his splendid glow could illuminate every single person within reach of his light.
No one else had that effect on me. I knew that.

“Uh, I… It was lovely to meet you.” Harry choked, snapping me back to reality as I turned to look away from him. “I’m sure I’ll see you very soon.”

“Have a lovely day.” He wished.

“Thanks again, Arthur.” I said, gradually turning on my heel.

It was like I felt like being outdoors would clear my head, like I could just forget Arthurs knowing snigger and that Harry would no longer feel like a warm sunset, but just like every other person in my life. I thought being outside would wash away those couple of minutes that had made me feel so weird and flustered. I felt like I’d gotten lost in a world I wasn’t familiar with, maybe one of the worlds from one of the surrounding novels.
But when I finally got outside, I turned to watch Harry quickly following, his cheeks still pink.
It was my universe.
They were my feelings.
Accompanied by the sound of seagulls, and the boats that were pulled into the docks on my left hand side, I began marching down the street, thinking I was moving with speed, but it took no effort for Harry to keep up with me. Harry and his stupid, long legs.

“You alright?” He asked me.

I knew he’d pick up on something, because Harry was used to slowing his pace down to accommodate for me. I was running away again, like I always did, but I was trying to keep it discrete.

“I’m fine.” I shuddered, not turning to face him.

“You sure?”

Suddenly, I stopped, halting abruptly and taking a few deep breaths, forcing myself to just take a moment and calm down, because I was getting worked up.
Harry came and stood ahead of me, his brows creased as he looked down to me.

“My sisters having an engagement party next month.” I gasped.


“I don’t think I’m gunna go.” I focused my gaze on the ground.


“What the fuck has she ever done for me?”

I was taking one emotion and twisting it into another. I had been completely dumbfounded by those unfamiliar thoughts of Harry, and I couldn’t deal with them. So, I altered where my thoughts were, turning his potion into poison and conjuring up the thought of my sister.

“What?” Harry was completely thrown off course by my tone.

“She hasn’t ever done anything for me.” I was shaking. “And-and we’re not even close. I want her to feel fucking miserable when I don’t show, because she’s never done anything for me.”

I was working myself into a frenzy, barely pausing to breathe as I rushed through my words, barely even noting what I was saying. I just felt like I needed to say something; anything to take my mind to somewhere new.

“I think she’d be upset, if you didn’t show, Ren.” Harry spoke gently.

“Good!” I cried. “I want her to be upset!”

“Is that the type of person you’re gunna be? Really? The type of person who repeats hurtful actions rather than loving ones?”

I raised my head and looked at him, noticing that my bitter words had clearly left a bad taste in his mouth.
The girl stood in front of him wasn’t the girl he knew.
She wasn’t someone I knew, either.
Throughout all the years of being beaten down by my family, I’d never let it grow into a resentment. I’d never let it develop into something where I felt the need to beat them down, too.

“I… I dunno.” I finally breathed.

“You shouldn’t want to stoop to her level, Ren. You’ve always made a conscious effort to rise above that bullshit. Don’t change now! Don’t mimic her! Your only intention here is to hurt her, and that’s not you! I know it’s not.”

He was desperately trying to get through to me, trying to push out this weird anger that had just forced itself upon me.

“I… I don’t want to hurt anyone.” I muttered.

“Then don’t hurt her. You… You should go. Do what you’ve always done and rise above it. I know it must be easy, for me to say that,” He sighed. “But you… You’re an amazing person, Ren. I admire you, genuinely. Stay true to yourself, please. You’ve come so far.”

I nodded, swallowing harshly, feeling sad that I’d let an anger fall over me and be the most prominent feeling I had.
I knew I’d never been good at handling my emotions, but in that moment, I completely lost myself, just in an attempt not to deal with something that I was feeling.

“Will you come with me?” I asked him.


“To-to her engagement-do? It’s okay if you don’t want to, but, you made things easier over Christmas. And I’m guessing it’ll be the first time I see my mum and dad since. So, I dunno. I think I’d just like it if you were there.”

He was silent for a while, rubbing the back of his hand over one of his tired eyes.
Suddenly, all I could think about was if he’d had another tough night, another evening of restless sleep, and no one there to comfort him.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He huffed. “I mean, they think we’ve broke up. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

My eyes went wide, my fingers finding the material of my coat and pulling on it, mumbling to myself a little before I managed to blurt out a sentence.

“Uh… Well… The thing is… I actually never told my parents we broke up.” His head whipped to me as soon as I said that. “I just… I never got round to it… Or… Fuck it, I just didn’t want to tell them. I wanted them to think we were still together.”

I watched a smile force itself upon his lips, and a few seconds later he just burst out laughing, turning on his heel and marching in the other direction, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.

“What?” I cried, doing a little jog to catch up with him. “What?”

I looked up to the side of his face, his dimple digging into his cheek and his nose beginning to crinkle, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It’s just funny.” He shrugged. “Because I never told my parents we split up either.”


I could tell that Harry was smug about the fact that he was sat on the opposite side of the bar than he usually was, Louis shaking his head at the two of us as he made us a second lot of cocktails, once again, free of charge.
Harry had a smirk etched into his face the entire time.

“I’m gunna slap you!” Louis scalded.

Why?” Harry played innocent.

“You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you? That you’re not working and I am.”

“It’s just fun! I never come into work unless I’m actually working. I like it.”

“I fucking don’t.”

Louis and Harry could have been mean to each other all night, and it would still be painfully obvious how much they cared for each other. Louis had been one of the few people that Harry trusted when it came to his dreams, and that made me like him automatically. I had met Louis a few times, and of course I liked him anyway, but that fact merely increased how highly I thought of him.
He gave Harry the middle finger, but it was still ridiculously endearing.

“How’ve you been, Ren?” He turned to me, lifting his eyebrows, very suggestive.

It was a little strange, knowing that whenever our friends saw us spending time together, they would automatically predict we were getting back together. Whenever one of them gave me a look, like the one Louis just had, I really wanted to burst and tell them that we’d never been together. I was trying to figure out how I felt about Harry, and I could have really done with being able to do that without my friends and his friends eyeing our every move. It seemed to put all of our movements under a magnifying glass, and when I was trying to keep things realistic and simple, I didn’t like my feelings and my actions being amplified by others.

“I’ve been good. How have you been, Louis?”

“Other than having to work with this horrible bastard,” He gestured towards Harry. “I’ve been pretty good.”

“And you’re not feeling even just a little bit sad that you’re not on this side, drinking with us?” I smirked, batting my eyelashes.

“You’re as bad as each other you two!” He slammed our drinks in front of us. “I gotta go serve. I’ll be back in a minute. And you both better start being nice to me!”

He scurried off to his left, attending to a woman who was leaning across the bar, probably just in the hope of being a little closer to him, squishing her breasts together and smiling dumbly.
It didn’t surprise me when I saw Louis pass over his card to her after preparing her order.

“Today was good.” Harry smiled, drawing my eyes back to him. “Will you be bored tomorrow, too? We could do something.”

“You not bored of me?” I raised my brows.

“That’s never gunna happen.”

Once again, I found my head dropping, unable to look him in the eye as I giggled to myself, overcome by his aura once again.
I just wasn’t used to boys looking at me in the way that Harry did. I wasn’t used to having a boy watch me with low eyes and a huge smile, or the way he always sat close to me, held himself as close as possible. I was used to either being a temporary interest to a charmless male, or a despondent sidepiece to a boy who didn’t really care about me.
When Harry looked at me and said certain things, sometimes it felt otherworldly.
I looked back up, finally thinking up a suitable comeback which could get a laugh out of him and make it easier to ignore how flustered I’d become, but the words died in my mouth.
I watched as a girl came and tapped Harry on the shoulder, inviting him to turn and see her, and she was quite the sight.

“Sorry for interrupting, but don’t you work here?” She asked him.

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I’ve seen you before.” She took it upon herself to sit in the seat beside him. “You look different with your hair down.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Harry turned so he wasn’t just facing me, accepting the girls company.

She had these beautiful, giant blue eyes, long blonde hair that reached almost down to her hips, and the friendliest smile in the world. Even I felt a little captivated by her. I wouldn’t have blamed Harry if he’d opted to completely turn away from me.

“It’s definitely a compliment. Even though, you look good with your hair up, too.”

I could feel that my hands were forming into a fist, a large intake of air pushing into my nostrils, and I turned away from the interaction. I almost felt sick.

“Uh, thank you.” Harry nodded.

“So, I saw you hand one of those cards out the other night,” She continued, leaning a little closer. “Does that mean you’re single?”

I glanced to her again, annoyed because she was being ridiculously polite and she seemed frustratingly lovely and yet I still felt like telling her to fuck off. I couldn’t even understand what was happening, other than the fact that I hated the thought of him handing his number out, and I hated the thought of this girl speaking to him in the way she was.
And I hated the thought of Harry sleeping with some girl that he didn’t even care about.
Because this was how I imagined it had gone. He’d been in a bar, maybe he’d even been working, and some random girl had approached him and flirted with him, and put her body on his, and he’d accepted her affections. He’d accepted them so openly that he’d lost his virginity to her, probably without her knowledge that it wasn’t a meaningless one night stand to him. He’d lost something within a woman who wasn’t aware of what she was taking, and I hated that.
I really fucking hated it.

“Uh, yeah.” Harry eventually answered, seemingly slightly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m single.”

“Then, can I have one of those cards?” She questioned.

I looked away again, raising my glass upward and putting the tip of the straw in my mouth, noticing from the corner of my eyes as Harry leant forward slightly, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a card for her.
My hands started to shake.
I completely looked away, glancing down to the other side of the bar, seeing the faces of happy drinkers who weren’t fazed by this girl. Fuck, I shouldn’t have been fazed by her, but I was. I didn’t want to think about all the reasons I was bothered by her, because it was too overwhelming for me to handle, but she was really fucking bothering me, and if I thought for a second that I had a single leg to stand on, I would have asked her to leave him alone.

“I’ll call you.” I heard her say. “What’s your name?”


“I’m Genevieve.”

“Nice to meet you.” He mumbled.

“I hope to see more of you soon.”

I plucked up the courage to look again, watching as she walked away, checking back over her shoulder to shoot him one last friendly smile, and then she went to join her friends again.
Harry ran a hand through his hair before twisting on his chair again to face me, and he seemed a little stuck for something to say.

“She was pretty.” I squeaked, my voice unnaturally high, my eyes on my drink.


“But I’m sure you’re used to it. Handing out your card. Must be a nice confidence boost.”

“Look at me.”

“You must really-”

“Ren, look at me!” He almost yelled.

I turned to face him, biting my tongue and trying not to scrunch my nose, watching him look at my face and figure out my exact emotion.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” I didn’t know I was lying, but I was.

“If I had known you were going to get jealous, I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” I squawked. “I’m fine!”

“You’re a terrible liar!” He half laughed. “Are you jealous? Just tell me!”

“I don’t know!” I yelped. “I don’t know how I feel!”

I could feel myself getting worked up and frustrated, but then I saw him smiling, this huge grin popping his lips upwards, the feeling began to wash away.

“You’re jealous.”

“Why is that funny to you?”

“Just… You. You’re jealous about me with someone else. I… I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” I argued.

“It means something.” He fought back. “I don’t know what, exactly. Not yet. But it means something.”

“It’s just rude to flirt like that when you have company.” I shrugged, still reluctant to accept that I’d felt a large dosage of jealousy.

“Then I won’t do it again.” He was still grinning like a fool. “I’ll focus all my flirting on you, if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry.”

“Okay.” He held his hand up in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

I’d given Harry another reason to be smug, because as much as I was denying it, not just to him but to myself, I was exceptionally jealous about that girl, and how she’d spoke to him, and how she’d acted with him, and the fact that he’d willingly handed over his number in the way he had.
I stirred my drink with straw, whispering my next statement, because maybe I didn’t fully want him to hear it.

“I don’t think I have any right to be jealous.”

He reached out to me, taking my hand and wrapping his own around it, and his touch managed to sooth the shakes that I’d had since she approached him.

“Don’t let anyone, or anything, convince you that the way you feel isn’t justified.” He soothed.

With a deep inhale, I nodded, wondering why everyone in my life was having to teach me how I should deal with my emotions. I’d become so accustom to running from them, so used to looking the other way and simplifying intricate things.
But the main thing was that I was taking all those lessons on board, and even if my progress was slow, things were finally starting to sink in. That was what mattered the most to me.


“How many days until Christmas?” Harry asked me as we turned onto my street.

“What?” I laughed, buttoning up my coat now that the wind was crashing into us directly.

“How many days until Christmas?”

“I don’t bloody know!” I laughed. “Loads. Why?”

“I wanna sing Fairytale of New York to you.”

“Oh god. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Yes you do!” He objected. “Don’t lie! I know you loved it.”

I had loved it, though I didn’t really want to tell him that, and it was only the 20th of March for crying out loud. I wasn’t ready to hear that bloody song yet.
Even if it was Harry drunkenly trying to sing the words again.
Neither of us were too drunk, but I knew Harry had consumed enough that he would be able to get a decent night’s sleep, and I liked that. He deserved to have a lovely night’s sleep.
I felt like maybe Harry deserved a lot of things he didn’t have.

“You’re a fool.” I told him.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” He asked next.

“Who said we’re doing anything?” I cried.

“Me. I demand that we spend the day together.”

“You demand?” I cried.

“Yes. I demand.”

I laughed to myself as I held the door open for him, letting him inside my building again.
I’d told him I’d be fine getting home on my own, but once again, Harry had been pretty insistent that he got me home and made sure I was safe. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t fight it, just asked if we could walk. Maybe I just wanted a bit of extra time with him.
We took the few flights of stairs, and suddenly we’d ran out of words. It must have been one of the first times all day that I’d struggled for something to say. Even when I’d been overwhelmed by my feelings and even when I’d gotten jealous of that girl, I’d still managed to blurt something out, because speaking to Harry was incredibly easy for me.
Even though we weren’t speaking, I noticed as we wandered up the stairs, that he was still smiling, and I smiled in return.
We reached my floor too quickly, our wonderful day together coming to an end, and even though I hadn’t actually said I’d spend the next day with him, I couldn’t help but think that as soon as I awoke, I would call him and make some kind of plan with him.

“Thank you, for today.” I spoke quietly as we walked down the corridor.

“Ren, can you just… stop… for a minute? Please?”

Suddenly his tone had dropped, and his smile was gone. The seriousness in his voice made my stomach churn, but I did as he asked. I stopped, standing still and turning to face him, seeing the way he closed the gap between us, his eyes down to his feet, moving his body closer to mine.
I took a few steps back, shuddering under the intense atmosphere, almost collapsing as he lifted his head and focused his eyes against mine.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“I need to know how you feel.”


“Ren, if you feel anything for me, please let me know.”


“Because if you feel something for me, then I want to do this differently.”

I distanced even more, my back crashing against the wall behind me, but Harry pushed ever closer, the front of his body almost greeting mine as I looked up into his olive eyes, his face sombre.

“Do what differently?”

“If you feel something for me, then I want to do this properly. I want to… take you out on a date. I want to… know that I can hold your hand when we walk down the street together. Fuck, I want to hold your hand all the time.”

“You do?” I trembled.

“If this is just a friendship, that’s fine… But, it feels like it’s not. It really fucking feels like there’s something here, and if there is then I want to do this properly. I need to know how you feel. Please tell me how you feel.”

My breathing was coming out in harsh pants, desperate to run again, but I think that’s why he cornered me. He knew me well enough that if I could just walk away from it, I would. So he didn’t let me.
He raised his hand, cupping my cheek with his large hand, running his thumb under my eye and waiting for me to say something to him, to open up and tell him how I felt.

“I-I’m confused.” I nudged my cheek further into his touch.

“I feel like the only reason you’re confused about this, is because you’re still convinced that I don’t want you. Well, I’m here, now, and I’m telling you I do. I do want you.”

I told him that I would do this, that I would accept this new stage of our friendship, but I think one of the reasons I was still in confused, and hesitant, was because I had convinced myself that Harry wouldn’t feel anything towards me. As much as I was trying to grow, it still didn’t seem right to me that a boy like Harry could want a girl like me. I hadn’t let myself truly see that as an option.
Not until that very moment.
He was there, edging closer and closer to me, so close I could feel his breath against my lips. He was rubbing soothing circles over the skin on my face, and he was telling me he wanted me. He didn’t want a fake relationship with me, he didn’t just want the girl who comforted him in the middle of the night when he was scared.
He wanted me.

“Can… Can we go inside, please?” I quaked. “Can we go inside and talk about this? Just… sit down and talk about everything?”

“Fuck, Ren… I don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush you. I’m not trying to rush you, fuck. I just want… fuck.”

“You’re not rushing me.” I moved my hand, lacing my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “It’s fine. Let’s… Let’s just go and talk.”

He nodded, biting his bottom lip before he finally pulled away from me, distancing our lips once more, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it.
I smashed my head back against the wall, trying to find the stamina to move and follow him as he made his way towards the door to my flat, running his hand through his hair. I stayed in my spot and watched him, clearly trying to soothe his racing mind, rolling his shoulders before he reached out for my door handle.

“Ren, you didn’t fucking lock it again.” He managed to chuckle.

That made me laugh too, finally feeling normal enough to distance from the wall and walk the small distance down towards him.

“Woops.” I giggled.

“You’re such-”

I watched his face drop as soon as he pushed the door fully open, standing on the outside and looking into my flat with dead eyes.
I stopped myself still, just seeing his reaction.

“What’s wrong?” I gasped.

“Ren… I… Fuck.”

I quickly ran to his side, panicked as I approached him and turned, looking into my flat in the same way he was.
It wasn’t hard to miss what had made him react that way.
It was easier to see how trashed the place was at first, how things were strewn all over the hall, my TV shattered on the floor beside my door.
I took a step inside, slowly turning to look into my living room.
That’s when it became clear that most of my possessions, the ones that were easy enough to carry, were missing.
That’s when it became clear that my complete ineptness had resulted in my flat being burgled.

shiro thoughts? theories?

This is my thoughts on where is or at least what I think happened in S3. I’m sorta just rambling, but I feel quite strongly about this. Anyways, idk if anybody had mentioned this before (I’m sorta new) but in S1E1 we have our lovely Takashi Shirogane, yes? Just as he and Pidge are freeing the prisoners, drones begin to attack them. 

As you can see, Shiro is ready to fight but you can see the considerable amount of fear in his eyes. Then his arm turns on and in 5 seconds his demeanor changes

He suddenly has this more threatening look on his face. He begins fighting without hesitation compared to earlier when he was in a more defensive stance. He defeated those drones in less than 30 seconds without any drone landing a single blow on him. 

Keep reading

The Battle for Hogwarts: Why Slytherin House is Unfairly Vilified

Yesterday, I saw a post in which a Nonny Mouse said:

“Jk rowling unilaterally writing that not a single member of slytherin house fought in the battle of hogwarts and instead every single one of them hid like cowards is honestly one of the laziest most flaccid writing decisions of our time”

Of course, a number of people leaped to Rowling’s defense, praising her for her donations to charity and for her creation of a complex yet flawed world. I’m not arguing with any of that. 

However, the OP is wrong. The Slytherins did NOT run and hide like cowards at the Battle of Hogwarts. This is canon. 

According to Deathly Hallows (Chapter 31–The Battle of Hogwarts), Voldie makes an announcement in the Great Hall: he wants Harry Potter turned over to him immediately, and the people in Hogwarts have until midnight to do so. If they do that, he says, he will leave Hogwarts alone. No one will be harmed; the people who give him Harry will be rewarded. 

Once Voldemort’s voice is silent, this happens:

The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Harry, to hold him forever in the glare of thousands of invisible beams.

Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table and he recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, “But he’s there!  Potter’s there! Someone grab him!” 

Before Harry could speak, there was a massive movement.

The Gryffindors in front of him had risen and stood facing, not Harry, but the Slytherins.

The Gryffs are followed by the ‘Puffs and then the Ravenclaws.. Also, they are pulling wands “from beneath cloaks and from under sleeves.” The Slytherins are all facing angry classmates who are armed with functioning weaponsClassmates who are ready to attack because of the words of one person.

Then McGonagall says this:

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson.” said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. “You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow.”

Perhaps, after a year with the Death Eaters in charge, she knew how the other Slytherins thought. But we readers didn’t see that year.  What I saw was a panicked seventeen-year-old who didn’t want to die. Yes, she was screaming for someone to grab Harry and turn him over to Voldemort, which was neither fair nor right. But she didn’t attack Harry. And the other Slytherins hadn’t even made a move to do so when the rest of the school drew their weapons.

So no. The Slytherins did not “run and hide like cowards.” They did not balk at fighting their relatives and possibly their parents. McGonagall—the Head of Gryffindor—was not trying to spare them. She threw the Slytherins—at least the ones who were of age—out of Hogwarts on the eve of battle. (It was decided in the previous chapter that ALL underage students, which would be eleven- to sixteen-year-olds from ALL Houses, would be evacuated to Hogsmeade by means of secret passages that connected the school to the town.)

Remember, please, what was outside of Hogwarts. Voldemort’s forces consisted of more than mere Death Eaters. There were giants…or, if you prefer an anime term, titans. There were carnivorous venomous spiders, each the size of a small car. Werewolves—hated and feared throughout the Potterverse–led by the creepily pedophilic Fenrir Greyback. And worst of all, soul-devouring Dementors. 

McGonagall, veteran of the First War with Voldemort and member of the Order of the Phoenix, surely had an idea of who Voldemort’s allies were; they didn’t change from the First War to the Second. She also knew what the castle would soon be facing; all the teachers, including her, were preparing for magical battle prior to the meeting in the Great Hall.

She knew. And she threw a group of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds out to face not just their parents and kinfolk, but an enormous army of actual monsters who didn’t really care who they destroyed. And the one refuge from the monsters—Hogwarts—was barred to them.

Because of one person’s words.

"Our choices are what define us,” my ass.

Voldemort boasts to Snape later that all the Slytherins joined him except for Draco Malfoy (who was still inside Hogwarts, IIRC). This doesn’t surprise me; people will do heinous things to stay alive. And saying, “No, we’re NOT on Lord Voldemort’s side!”, however moral it would have been, would not have been conducive to continued breathing.

Therefore, we don’t know if siding with Voldemort reflected deeply held convictions or was a lie born of desperation. We don’t know if any Slytherins performed sabotage behind the lines; we don’t know if any of them fought the monsters once the battle was joined. Given the existence of Andromeda Tonks (an ally of the Order, if not a member), Regulus Black (surely the most quixotic of Death Eaters), and Horace Slughorn (who did fight for Hogwarts), it’s hardly impossible that some Slytherin students did.

And there’s one final irony.

Remember what Pansy suggested–that Harry be turned over to Voldemort?

Well, what does Harry end up doing? He walks into Voldemort’s camp, turns himself over to Voldemort, and lets Voldie kill him. (Or try to kill him anyway.)

The action that saved the Wizarding World…was the suggestion of a frightened Slytherin.

Ode to my neighbors

We are far away from each other, our countries are in political confusion, there is tension, stress and then there is a queasy feeling about what the future holds for both of our nations.

Once, we were one.
Once, the battles were not fought to be won.
Once, we craved peace and freedom.
Once, it was not only about our kingdom.

Our ancestors have fought, they made a lot of sacrifices, for us to live peacefully in our respective countries. Not only mine, not only yours, but ours, we fought together, we were one.

We are different, quite diverse natures, disparity among our lifestyles, but that’s what makes it beautiful, we are unique, you and me, but that’s no reason for me to not like you, let alone hate you.

You are not only a friend, albeit a stranger, but you’re my neighbor, and that one we have shared history with.

Here’s to you, my fellow Indians, you’re my friends, my neighbors, this day is not only for us, it’s for you as well.
Happy Independence Day. 💙💚😊

Amidst the chaos that surrounds us,
We will stand tall, being there when the other falls.
Too much hatred in the world,
We will be a symbol of love and peace.

- AA

@paratmin @justscribbledwords @sonador-reveur @creatingnikki @thisisafreen @waadtariq @thenewartist

P.S. I apologize if I have missed out on tagging someone.







Originally posted by love-buckybarnes

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: ~1450

Summary: Bucky’s POV; It’s been nearly thirty years since you were separated from the man you called Зима, Zima, Winter. He was made to forget you, and he never knew why. What had the two of you done wrong? Now that he’s found you again… well…

Warnings: Angst and… fluff?

A/N: So it’s just the epilogue left. I’m actually kind of sad to see this series come to a close. The response to it really brought a lot confidence back to me in terms of my writing, and I can’t wait to see what happens when inspiration hits again. Thank you all for your love and support throughout this literary journey. It means the world.

The lights struggle to flicker on as we walk into the room. Metal, broken and bent, shattered glass and cracked stone litter the floor; we’re surrounded by the remnants of a battle once fought between friends.

Steve and I share a glance. Natasha stands just a step ahead of us, her eyes on (Y/N)’s back as she walks further into the room. We all watch her in silence, either too afraid to speak or simply unsure of what to say.

(Y/N)’s footsteps come to a halt as she turns to look at something to her right. I can only see the side of her face, but I can see the pain and anger that contorts her features.

“How does one piece of machinery ruin so many lives?”

I approach her slowly, putting my hand to the small of her back as I follow her gaze with my own. Somehow, through all the chaos and destruction, that chair is still standing.

“You can’t blame the machine.” I mutter, “It was people who built it.”

She hums in response, “I have that serum in my blood.”

“We’ve never tested it, but does that mean I’m as strong as you?”

“Maybe not as strong but at the very least, stronger than your average human. Why?”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she steps off the small platform and moves to stand at the side of the chair. She takes one side of the head piece in her hand, bending the metal down until it snaps off; frayed wires spill from the end of it. She smiles down at it for a moment before throwing across the room. The sound of it hitting a wall and then the floor widens her smile.

“Why did that feel so good?”

There’s amusement in Natasha’s voice when she speaks, “You got to destroy a piece of the very thing that tore the two of you apart.”

When (Y/N) goes for the other side, I stop her. I take the other half on the head piece in my metal hand and easily tear it free from the rest of the chair. Instead of throwing it like she did, I crush it in my palm, the remnants of it falling to the floor. She smiles over at me before turning to step back up onto the main floor and continuing her exploration.

She makes her way around the rubble, toward a door off to the left. I recognize that door. It leads to a hallway with several more doors lining it. One of them is the training room where I trained her, the room where she first told me she loved me.

She stands in the open doorway, staring down at the threshold.


“Everything went wrong right here.” She whispers. “I told you I loved you right here, and it ruined everything.”

“What are you talking about?”

She turns to face me, her expression solemn, “I never told you what happened after they pulled me away from you that day.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“It’s important.”

I nod my head, taking her hands in an attempt to give her some kind of comfort. “Go ahead.”

“Karpov took me to another room. He told me that love was not an option; I was not allowed to show you love. He said that your ability to return my feelings meant that you were a failed experiment. Then he said I needed to be taught a lesson, punished for compromising his weapon.”

“What did he do to you?”

She chews her bottom lip, shifting on her feet as she looks into my eyes, “Electroshock.” She casts her gaze down again, “Maybe if I had done what he asked and kept my feelings to myself after that, we might have been okay, but I only pushed harder.”

I hook my finger beneath her chin, raising her gaze back to mine, “There is nothing in this world that will make me regret anything that happened between us. Yes, we were pulled apart. Yes, I was made to forget you. You have to remember, Kitten, without all of that, we wouldn’t be here right now, together and free.”

She smiles, reaching her arms up and wrapping them around my neck. I hold her tight to me, burying my face in her neck and gently breathing her in. We stand there like that, surrounded by the dark memories of a place that was meant to break us.

“I think I’m ready to leave this place.” She mumbles, loosening her embrace.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

She begins to completely release me but pauses, stepping up on her toes to kiss me. The touch of her lips against mine only lasts for a brief moment, but it’s not a feeling I’m liable to forget.

She takes my hand, guiding me back to where Natasha and Steve wait for us.

“Ready?” Natasha asks, her back straightening upon our approach; she smiles, “We’ve got one more stop to make.”

This is where they kept her. This is where they hid her from me while she slept. This is where, a little over six months ago, I found her again.

“Is she alive?” Steve shouts, his shield flying through the air and back to his hand.

“I think so!” I reply, frantically searching for a way to open the chamber she’s trapped in. “I don’t know how to open this thing.”

“Move!” Natasha commands, “Go help Rogers. I’ll get her out.”

I try to keep my focus on the battle at hand, but my mind keeps drifting back to her face. Two final shots into a HYDRA agent, and it’s over. They’re all either dead or captured. I run back to Natasha, back to (Y/N).

“It’s starting to heating process now. It should only take a few minutes.

The chamber slowly open, a warm, white fog billowing out from around her body.

Her body is stiff for only a moment longer. Then her head lolls to the side. Her eyes are still closed, her chest barely moving as her lungs try to take in air. I reach out to touch her, to free her from her binds, but Steve stops me.

“Buck, wait.”

“I’ll explain everything later. For now, just help me.”

“I’m not going to leave her up there. So you can either help me or get the hell out of my way.”

He sighs in defeat, nodding and moving to stand at her other side. I pull the restraint around her legs free first. He gets the one across her waist. Finally, I release the one at her shoulders and her body falls into his arms. I take her from him as gently as I can, her head resting against my shoulder.

“I thought she was dead.” I mutter, looking down at her sleeping face.

“We should get out of here.” Natasha says, her eyes still focused on the computer screen, “She needs a hospital.”

Back on the jet, I sit at her side, watching her and hoping her eyes will open soon. Eventually, Bruce sits at my side, a tablet in his hands.

“I don’t understand.” I whisper. “It never took me this long to wake up.”

“She’s been asleep since ’91. Her body is weak and currently doing its best to recover. Once we get her to a hospital, get some proper testing done, we’ll know more. For now, just be happy that she’s alive.”

A gentle touch. “Bucky?” The sweetest voice. “Are you okay?” The brightest eyes. The kindest smile.

“Yeah,” I nod, covering her hand where it still rests on my shoulder with my own, “just thinking.”

“About what?”

I look at the chamber that once held her body, now covered in dust and barely functioning, “The day we found you.” I look back at her, “I was so afraid you were never going to wake up.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of now. This place, Siberia, they don’t matter anymore.”

“How is it that you’re the brave one now?”

“Maybe I was never really afraid of facing all of this.” She half smiles, shrugging, “Maybe I was afraid of being afraid. I was afraid of what that fear would mean for me. I couldn’t let Dr. Kennedy be right. I needed to prove to him, to myself, to everyone, that I was above the fears he tried to keep me prisoner to.” She turns her hand under mine and laces her fingers with mine, “It’s over now.” She smiles, “We can go home.”

TAGS:  @melconnor2007 @curlyxtomato @skeletonwoman @chipilerendi @allyp1023@snuggleducky@shakircreations @theloveablesociopath @iobeyfandoms @a-book-pressed-rose @winchesterandpie @saladalpaca @fab-notfat

Midterms to Full Bellies - Part 4!

Chad had barely gotten to the end of his driveway and he was already breathing hard. This was going to be more difficult than he’d thought.

His last trip to the doctor had come with an ultimatum: start exercising or start funeral planning. It wasn’t much of a choice. Aiden was supportive, as he always was, and made him an exercise plan to stick to throughout the week. It didn’t seem particularly imaginative - just jog around the block and do a few jumping jacks. How hard could it be?

Excruciating, as it turned out. He hadn’t realized just how heavy he’d gotten. Or how hot it was outside of an air-conditioned home. Or how his legs protested with every waddling step. Or how his every crevice and fold rubbed his skin raw. Or how he’d barely gone a dozen steps and could already feel sweat dripping down his face and back. This was turning out to be a nightmare.

Still, he pushed himself. He could do this, he kept telling himself. Just get around the block. Doesn’t matter how fast - just do it. He kept up this internal mantra as he made each plodding step, practically breaking the sidewalk’s concrete with each footfall. His belly had already fallen out of his shirt, but Chad didn’t care. He was singularly focused on one goal, and minor wardrobe malfunctions were not included in that goal. Besides, he’d sort of gotten used to spilling out of anything he put himself into.

Each step was more like a sway, as Chad would first need to push his own bulk to one side of his body in order to bring his leg forward, and then do the same with the opposite leg on the next step. His arms had long since been held out at an angle by the rolls of flesh that cascaded down his back, so they too swung from side to side. The entire effect was almost comical.

Every time Chad came up to someone on the sidewalk they moved out of his way. Some stared from the grass, open-mouthed at the elephantine man vainly plodding along. Others merely kept on, not trying to make a scene but diverting from their path to avoid the man-meteor slowly barreling toward them.

By the time he’d reached the end of the street he was drenched in sweat. His clothes were sticking to whatever roll they caught on, completely transparent with perspiration. This was a problem for his massive moobs, as Chad’s nipples kept rubbing on the fabric as he moved. As he turned the corner to begin down the next street, he noticed it wasn’t just his tits - everything was rubbing against the fabric now, the cotton stuck to him like a second skin. He might as well have been naked.

Halfway down the next road and he realized he almost was. His track pants had run down his ass so far he was mooning half the neighborhood. His shirt had ridden up his belly enough to expose his cavernous and quivering belly button. He was finally forced to stop lest he be arrested.

At least, that’s what he told himself. It certainly wasn’t because he was breathing harder than a freight train, and his heart beat so fast he felt it might burst from his chest.

About 30 seconds of gaping breaths Chad once again began his jog. Slower this time - more like a strong march than a jog. But he was past the halfway point now, with the fastest route home being to just keep going.

So he did. More swaying, wobbling steps, more rubbing of fabric, more escape of rolls and crescents of flesh. He stopped twice more to avoid catastrophic wardrobe failures, each time struggling to merely reach his clothing over his own colossal size.

After hauling up his pants the second time he finally reached his street. A mere 200 feet separated him from the end of this torture. All he had to do was make it.

He took another another few steps, swaying even more than normal, when he noticed a pair of men ahead of him. They were his old gym mates. He stopped, unsure what to do, and then realized there was no possible way he could hide. Even if he could move fast enough, there were simply no objects in sight that would obscure his girth. Hiding behind a nearby tree would be like trying to hide behind a popsicle stick.

The only option was to keep going. So he did, lumbering as fast as he could. The pair did eventually see him, and he could tell they were snickering at his weight, but there were no sudden gasps of recognition, no wide-eyed stares of realization. To them, he was simply another fat man to ridicule. They didn’t recognize Chad at all.

Anonymity suddenly gave Chad strength. He pushed on, forcing the two gym rats aside lest they be trampled under the slow-moving stampede. He could here chuckles from behind him, which eventually broke into all-out laughter, but to Chad their scorn was aimed at a random stranger and not a former comrade in fitness. Perversely, it seemed to lighten the blow.

As Chad continued, the gym bunnies laughter faded into the distance. He could see his house coming up, slowly. He realized he’d slowed again, now more of an exhausted shuffle. His body no longer swayed wildly to and fro, but jostled and waved as he stumbled to his driveway. There was practically a trail of sweat that traced his path looking like someone had punched a hole in a water bottle.

He made it to his door and instead of opening it leaned against it. He breathed in great, wracking heaves, arms held above his head, for several minutes. When he finally felt ready, he opened the door, and stepped inside.

Salvation. Air conditioning. The most gloriously cool breeze wafted through his soaked body, chilling him almost immediately. His nipples, already rubbed raw from his jog, now perked up to be finger-sized missiles that pointed in opposite directions. His belly and ass, once again exposed as his clothes fought a losing battle at containment, felt the coolest as they dripped sweat onto the floor, a small puddle already forming.

He stood there for a moment before he tried to take off his shirt, and failed utterly. He felt too weak from the job, and besides, his shirt clung to him as though glued on.

Lucky for him, Aiden then came from upstairs to see what was the commotion.

“You made it,” he said, proudly.

Chad nodded and then lifted his arms as high as he could, which wasn’t even above his shoulders. “Help,” he said.

Aiden took pity on his mammoth lover and came down to begin the arduous process of peeling off Chad’s soaked t-shirt. As he lifted it over his jutting front each fold wobbled to freedom, followed by his colossal mammaries, and finally up and over his head. Chad sighed at the sudden rush of comfort.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the couch so I can get your shoes off.”

The last few steps to his deeply creased couch were only made bearable by the promise of impending freedom from the last of his garments. He sat down slightly faster than he would normally as his legs finally gave out, an ominous creak from the couch protesting the sudden weight atop it. Then Aiden set about removing Chad’s shoes, then socks, then pants, leaving him in his skin-tight briefs and taking up most of the couch.

As his sweat soaked into the couch Chad just lay there, tongue lolling out, enjoying the comforts of home more than he ever had. When he opened his eyes, Aiden was standing there, a strange smile on his lips and an obvious tent in his shorts.

“What?” Chad asked.

Aiden replied simply, “You look hot.”

Chad waived a still dripping hand. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“It sure is,” Aiden replied, stepping into his massive lover so his shorts-covered hardon ground into Chad’s mountainous belly. He bent down, one hand balancing himself on Chad’s tit, and the two shared a kiss that lingered until it became a full-on makeout session in the living room, Aiden’s hand roaming over Chad’s vast acreage to pinch and caress every soaked fold. He always knew just where to reach to entice Chad, no matter how exhausted, and he could already feel himself hardening in his fat covered groin.

Of course, topping for Chad had long-since fallen by the wayside; his erection remained buried even at full mast. While Aiden enjoyed spelunking (as he called it) from time to time, they had since switched roles in the relationship out of necessity.

At some point in their makeout, Chad rolled off the couch to lay on his belly on the floor, his middle providing more than enough cushion to maintain his comfort indefinitely while also pushing his enormous rear into the air. Aiden then stripped him of his sweaty underpants, leaving him nude and wiggling enticingly.

Aiden wasted no time. He clambered atop his titanic boyfriend, slipping his hardon between cheeks wider than his entire body, Chad’s sweat being more than enough lubrication. He slipped inside easily, Chad moaning beneath him at the brief penetration. When Aiden had reached as far as he could go he held himself there, arms wrapped around Chad’s clammy skin, and then began to gyrate.

Chad had never been a bottom, but found his new role to be even more exciting that before. The feeling of his tiny boyfriend teasing his hole for the rough fucking that was to come had already gotten him leaking. If he wasn’t already so wet from his brief jog he was sure he’d be soaked. As it was, it merely mingled with the sweat already present, further lubricating his folds in preparation for the main event.

Then Aiden pulled himself out and shoved himself back in, the impact sending waves throughout Chad’s body and punctuated by a dull slap. As the wave washed over him Chad moaned. Then Aiden did it again, and again, building up speed until their living room was a constant slapping staccato of his pelvis to Chad’s ass.

Chad writhed and moaned, each impact sending tremors throughout his form, and causing the flesh of his now well-lubricated groin to shimmy ever so slightly against his own cock. His body was like a giant vibrator, and the faster and more roughly he was fucked the better it felt. He was so massive that no matter how hard Aiden worked it only made him beg for more.

Soon, Aiden too was covered in sweat, dripping from his face to pool on Chad’s back before sliding to the floor. Chad’s moan was nearly constant, going up in pitch with each of Aiden’s thrusts. He was getting close, and began to thrust back into Aiden as much as his weight would allow. It was enough to get Aiden just a tiny bit further to finally reach the spot he needed to.

Chad’s moaning reached a fevered pitch as Aiden humped away wildly. Chad’s world had become a constant earthquake of pleasure he couldn’t keep track of. He moaned, and moaned, and eventually he could feel the dam break as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over him, each one building upon the last higher and higher, until they all came crashing down, threatening to drown him.

He came, long and hard, soaking himself and the floor beneath him, but he hardly noticed. All he knew was blinding bliss and constant motion even as he lay there, no longer moving a muscle.

Aiden had cum already, but kept pounding away for some time after to ensure his boyfriend had also cum. He needn’t have bothered, but he had no way of telling anymore how long Chad’s orgasm lasted once his moans had stopped. When it finally felt like he was humping a dead whale he extricated himself, and went to get another towel.

When he returned, Chad had rolled onto his side. He looked up at Aiden and asked, “Is it time for lunch yet?”

Just for a Moment

Attack on Titan Fan Fiction 

Characters: Hanji Zoe, Levi Ackermann, Erwin Smith OC
Genre: Romance, Action, Fantasy
Pairing: LeviHan, Eruhan
Rated: M for MMMMM 
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, I am just using their names. 
First fanfiction so do go easy on me! 

Chapter One

The sun started to rise above the walls, the cold breeze bringing the sweet song birds tweets through the open windows of the barracks, but was it really the sound of the song birds, or our longing to hear them once more, they were so loud and beautiful outside of the wall, they are free, not like us in our cages. The breeze made my hair dance, ever so slightly. I sat at my desk, looking over the paper work from the last expedition, wondering what would be next for us… how many people we would loose

More importantly, how would Erwin continue, missing an arm. 

I felt pity for him, but he wouldn’t stop, even if he looked like he needed help, he denied you. Levi found it slightly amusing, after everything that they had been through, as he said ‘the idiot went and got his arm bit off’ 
At least he didn’t die. 
At least the three of us were alive. 

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The Difficult Kind - 1

Summary: When Killian Jones accidentally stumbles into Emma Swan’s undercover FBI investigation, first impressions are anything but good. Once the smoke clears, they never expect to see each other again. But with a common enemy and the stakes higher than ever, they quickly discover working together is the only choice. That goes rather poorly too – until it doesn’t. CS AU. 

Rating: M (for a reason) 

Author’s note: To quote a reader, this one is a bit “grittier” than what you may be used to from me. There is some dubious consent and moral ambiguity, so if that’s not your thing, this isn’t for you. @oubliette14​ made me the gorgeous graphic and has been invaluable along with @kliomuse​ for brainstorming and beta duties. Much love, ladies! 

Also on and ao3 


“Well done, dearie.”

Killian sketched a mocking bow, allowing himself just the proper amount of disrespect to keep character without losing life or limb. “I’m a man of my word.”

“Indeed.” Gold considered him from his spot behind a massive desk, his fingers forming a steeple as if in thought, though Killian knew from experience any thoughts the wretched man had were sinister at best. A long moment of tense silence followed, not a soul in the room daring to so much as breathe too deeply.

Including the frightened-looking girl standing at Gold’s elbow in a poor excuse for a dress, the hem barely long enough to cover the essentials. Her name was Emily, and that was all he knew – even the dignity of a last name was denied her. Beyond that, Killian knew what everyone else knew: the girl belonged to Gold.

The taste of bile on his tongue, Killian waited until Gold’s lips twisted into what passed for a smile. “Well, as it turns out, I’m a man of my word as well. I did promise it would be worth your while if you came through.”

“Your payment was generous, though hard be it for me to refuse your gratitude.” He turned up the charm, ignoring the heavy thud of his racing heart. The last thing he wanted was to be standing in front of such a monster, dueling with quips and barbs. He had much larger concerns, but he needed to maintain his access to come and go as he pleased.

Someone’s life depended on it.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it? See, this is what I like about you, Charles. Criminals these days, they lack manners. They don’t understand a man’s word is his currency no matter his station in life. But you, you understand.” Gold smiled at him, a reptile in a suit. “Given your excellent execution of your task, allow me to extend my hospitality. Emily is yours for the evening.” The girl showed no reaction, her eyes on the floor even as Gold gave her a none too gentle push in Killian’s direction, her tangled blonde locks spilling over her shoulder as she nearly lost her balance in her heels.

Killian swallowed, his thoughts scrambling for a response. Of all the things Gold could have offered him, the barely legal girl who was either his prisoner, or his whore, or both, was the last thing he wanted any part of.

“If rumor is to be believed, a man once lost his hand for merely touching her,” he finally said, relieved to have found a plausible excuse. “I hate to think what I might lose should you change your mind. I’m rather fond of all my parts, you see.”

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