#BATTLE MAID LIGHTNING WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wannaholdhandswithfictionalmen · 4 years

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(My) Sanctuary;

A/n: First Ever Fic for Genshin Impact Fandom. A fic no one asked for but the idea was living in my head rent free, so what's a girl to do except play more Genshin Impact and work on this fic. (Listened to Sanctuary & Don't think twice by Hikaru Utada while writing this -- hence my inspired and very unoriginal title for this fic because I am horrible at thinking of titles.)

Genre: Mostly Fluff really, a pinch or two of Angst.

Warning: Implied underage drinking. Brief description of Violence. Of age drinking.

Summary: Childhood friends with history. Unspoken feelings. Mutual pining. Circumstances and life have forced you and Diluc on different paths, but you always return to Mondstadt and Diluc always makes time for you.

Word count: 3,128

The busy streets of Mondstadt. How long had it been this time? The absence of your presence from these cobblestone paths; four, five? No. Six months. Commissions to fight greater, fierce foes across Teyvat demanded your blades and lightning. Not that it mattered much how far or long you ventured from your former home. There was only one person who meant a great deal, important even if you could not sort through all the emotions attached to him in your own heart or even dare to give voice to those emotions.

Diluc Ragnvindr.

And despite the inner twisted, festering turmoil (of your own making) cradled in your heart for Mondstadt, Favonius Knights, The Fatui 'diplomats'. Diluc was always a reason to return.

In fact you aren't at all surprised when you stop by Good Hunter, offering up a handful of Mora for a meal. Sitting down at a table, closing your eyes. You took in a deep breath, the air here felt different to you. Thanks to the Anemo god, Barbatos. You swear it truly is the sense, embodiment of freedom that fills your lungs and soothes you even if for a few seconds.

A savory blend of mushrooms, chicken and noodles is your lunch for the day. After thirty minutes have passed since your arrival in Mondstadt. And Diluc is sliding into the chair across from your own, elbows on the table, arms folded. Crimson eyes silently taking in the features of you.

"Hm. You're slacking. That's ten minutes later than before, what took your little informants so long to whisper in your ear word of me being back?" You don't even spare a look at him, taking another bite, chewing a mouthful as you wait for his reply.

"I do have a winery to run and the protection of Mondstadt to ensure, I can't not always come rushing away for personal affairs." Diluc holds a evident edge of underlying frustration in his smooth voice.

Your own gaze trails up and over him, taking in the exasperation and exhaustion that furrows the brow of his otherwise stoic expression-- you want to ask when he last got a full night's rest? If he was still doing his lone warrior, Darknight Hero routine? If he was as stubborn as ever shouldering the burden of his fervor desire to defend and protect. Oh, how you worry, worry and worry the weight of it all on your tongue, tightening your throat-- who takes care of you? Who stands by your side? Who defends you? Who protects you? Who lov-

Once upon a time it had been you but a vortex of mourning, sorrow, rage swallowed up your old life. Until you wanted nothing more than to never see the walls of Mondstadt ever again. One day leaving it all behind. Time was a cruel mistress, one day swiftly grew to years. The first time you returned from what would become regular disappearances--adventures.

Damage had been done. Diluc was the one who reached out to savage your friendship and you had welcomed the chance to have him back in your life even if it would never be anything more.

"Should I be honored that the gentleman Ragnvindr can even grace me with his company?" It's a hollow jest as you pick at your half eaten plate of food.

"No," His dismissal of the notion is soft yet firm. "Just Diluc, a friend, who is glad to see you well again." It's never his straight-forward or blunt nature that catches you off guard, it's when the subtle but clear sincerity creeps to the surface. Open, unwavering in his honesty.

You huff, looking down feigning disinterest yet the twitch of your lips is undeniable. Warmth, simple, gentle curls in your chest. Happiness. Flickering embers outside of the stone walls of your heart that would make Rex Lapis proud. Diluc had always been able to slip past your defenses, so easily lingering in your thoughts, in your heart. Whether he was aware of it or not.

"I suppose I am glad to see you too. Saved me a few bottles of my favorite wine?" You ask glancing up to catch his watchful gaze, biting your bottom lip as a wide smile threatened to spread on your face. Dulic's sudden raised eyebrow says it all-- do you really need to ask?

"Four pristine bottles of aged mixed sunsettia, valberry wine." Prideful is subtle and delicate in his voice as if Diluc would ever forget your favorite wine. Funny enough to think about how even as the unspoken king of the winery industry, he doesn't enjoy alcohol himself. Still keeping a stock of your favorite in his manor.

"You never let me pay you and we can't really share a few glasses together, so," you hum, slowly wired up with nervous yet excited anticipation as you reach down into the bag hanging off your shoulder. Shifting through the items and materials you carried with you for cooking and crafting you find it! Grabbing a slender jug of a bottle, wrapped in cloth. Swiftly placed on the table in front of Diluc. "I brought something for you."

It's not like grape juice is such a hard find or something Diluc could not afford himself with his abundance of wealth but you had commissioned a famous brewer to make a special blend of grapes and other berries to create a rich and sweet juice. With your own Mora to spare after a few jobs, and you had a feeling your wandering would lead back to Mondstadt.

Diluc is steady, slow with peeling back the cloth to stare at the deep, dark purple liquid filling the glass bottle. Uncorking the bottle, Diluc takes a whiff, closing his eyes, the smile that graces his face. It's everything and so much more. "It smells delicious. Thank you, I can't wait to taste it."

"Then we should begin our walk to the manor? I can hear my wine calling me." You leave a few Mora coins as a tip, standing up, Diluc presses the cork back into the bottle and hands it back to you for safe keeping.

"Alright," Diluc nods, following, matching your stride with ease. "Adelinde was asking about you the other day, you know she always makes sure your room is tidy, spotless in fact."

Stupid. How one little phrase has your stomach full of crystal flies like you are a teenager all over again. And the mention of the kind maid who still fusses over Diluc and you on occasion makes you happy. It is a nice reprieve from nights of solitude, you are content to travel alone but loneliness is a creature that waits, and waits until the right moment to sink its claws and fangs into you on the road.

The walk from Mondstadt isn't far but you aren't expecting a fully pleasant and peaceful walk with Diluc. Outside of the gates of the city and a few minutes down the dirt road, the sight of Hilichurls is predictable.

Small pack of fighters, five Hilichurls carrying clubs and one hulking Mitachurl with a shield. This should be fun.

"Make sure to show me how playing the part of the nighttime hero has kept your skills sharp!" You yell with a laugh, grinning as you summon your sword, forged of dragon bone, jagged, fierce blade. Rushing forward you dodge past the throw Pyro slimes.

You let yourself run a little wild, your Electro vision surge through you, bolts of lightning crash down on the charging Hilichurls. Shocking and stunning the monsters for a moment, that's all you need to unleash a flurry of fast slashes.

A loud, enraged howl, crashing stomps approach from your back. Anyone else would need to worry or doubt--you don't. The familiar roar and rumble of flames fills the air, the scorning heat of it nipping behind you. Diluc doesn't even let that Mitcahurl so much as graze you, his grunts and shouts clash with its growl and howls as his flame imbued blade breaks and burns through the beast's wooden shield. Leaving ashes flying in the air and the heavy smell of smoke and fire.

You electrify the Hilichurls, slowing, paralyzing the small beasts until they are left vulnerable and weak against you. The perfect targets. You cleave one's head off, stab straight through the mask of another, impale the chest of another. Delivering killing blows with precision and force. Wiping them out, you turn in time to see the beauty of Diluc.

Rapid, graceful, relentless, ferocity embraced in unyielding flames. The towering giant Hilichurl is left staggering, stumbling under the strikes of Diluc's claymore left all too unprotected without its shield to hide behind. Diluc turns up the heat quite literally, the soaring, blazing phoenix that emerged from his own vision and will, his flames destroy the Mitcahurl, wiping out its pitiful existence effortlessly.

Diluc shakes a bit of lingering flames and smoke off the steel of his blade with a sweeping slash at the air, standing among darkened, black grass, a gust of wind sways his hair and he looks over his shoulder. It is surely a moment deserving of immortalizing in portrait, his bright red hair blowing in the wind, holding his greatsword in one hand, sunlight giving him an ethereal glow, gazing at you.

Giving a slow applause, you whistle and laugh. "Flashy as ever, Diluc."

"The pyro element leaves little room for anything else. Still it's efficient and powerful," Diluc turns to face you, letting go of the hilt of his sword as it vanishes, unneeded outside of battle. "However, it's not something you could critique me on, when anyone for miles could see your lightning."

"Fair enough."

Besides a few stray slimes, the rest of your walk is undisturbed, reaching the winery as nightfall, the sun dipping below the horizon.

"(Name) it is good to see you well." Adelinde smiles upon seeing you as Diluc opens the front door and holds it open for you to walk in first. She hugs you, it's hard not to melt into her tight cradle.

"Have you been eating well? Sleeping accordingly? Not just naps. Taking breaks in between all your monster hunting?" Her lovingly stern questions always feel comforting in a way that is odd to describe and felt deeply.

"I am still standing, Adelinde, fully rested and my stomach is full at the moment."

"You would do well to keep it as such." Adelinde levels you with a motherly look of if you do not take care of yourself, I will which should be hard to make look threatening but the older woman handles it with years of expertise. She has worried over guests, Diluc, Kaeya, you for many, many years in the pact and many to come you are certain.

"Adelinde, please have the bottles of sunsettia, valberry wine brought up, we-"

"One step ahead of you, Master Diluc. Hillie and Moco brought them up a short while ago, I hope you two enjoy your time together." Adelinde leaves the manor, you aren't sure what work needs to be done on the grounds, you know for a fact Adeline specifically tries to do outside chores during daylight hours. It's an obvious tell for someone who knows her, she is ensuring you and Diluc remain alone for now. An avid supporter of your friendship you suppose.

Diluc barely gets to call out a 'thank you!' as she is shutting the door.

You stroll across the room, not much has changed at all. Your destination is the furniture set by the fireplace, the small, round table paired with two cushioned chairs. Pulling out the bottle of juice to place on the table top next to the bottles of wine, to cups awaiting you both.

Pouring your first cup, you are eager, excited to taste the almost sickeningly sweet flavor of the wine. It never seems to taste the same from any other winery or brewery or even in the company of others.

Moments of comfortable quiet drift by as you slowly, steadily sip and savory the wine.

When Diluc takes the first taste of your gift and his low moan of approval as he swallows. Oh. You could listen to that again and again. All husky, raspy delight that sends shivers down your spine. It feels good to bring any kind of bliss to Diluc, even the simplest kind by providing him a drink he loves.

You get the mutual feeling of being watched as you drink, sighing and smiling at the taste, the feeling of nostalgia creeps up on you.

"I remember the first time I tasted this wine. We were barely teenagers sneaking down into the cellar. I badly wanted to try the wine everyone in Mondstadt wouldn't shut up about," you recall it interrupting yourself with short, full breaths of levity. Far too amused by the memory to contain your laughter. "I- I asked. No- begged you to come down with me while your father was gone, saying I'd bring Kaeya instead if you didn't come, bluffing and you got as red as a flaming flower, grabbed my hand and pulled me all the way to the cellar and downstairs."

Diluc huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "You knew how to push my buttons too well, half of the stuff I let you talk me into was completely foolish." Staring into the lit fire as he listened to you.

"Just half?"

"Fine. All of the escapades I let you drag me along on were absurd."

"Your welcome as I recall you had a lot of fun."

"At the risk of a lot of trouble, you tested the lengths of even my father's generous patience." Diluc shook his head, the fondness in expression was plain as day.

"Oh, remember the night after getting my gliding license, I dared you to join me on top of the cathedral to see which of us could get farther across the city, and you landed in a bush!" Several glasses of wine, one empty bottle of the tart and sweet berry alcohol and you felt even more relaxed, comfortable in the company of Diluc.

"I, at the very least, remained dry. You were the one who crash-landed right into the fountain." Diluc smirked, sharp, sly as he chuckled, lightly tugging and adjusting the fabric of his gloves. Idle gestures as his cup stays on the table after a few sips.

"I would rate my dive undoubtedly ten out of ten." By the Archons, it had been a miracle you both escaped from the knights of Favonius night patrol with the commotion you made, wet leather boots on stone top made you slip a few times in your dash to escape discovery. Diluc had kept a firm grip on your arm, tugging you back up and refusing to leave you behind.

Then you remember, hiding away, pressed chest to chest, the chill of your soaked clothes clinging to you, the rise and fall of heavy, labored breaths. How close Diluc had been, that smokey, fiery scent that having pyro vision gifted him along with faint aroma of fruit thanks to the orchard of the dawn winery, he worked with his father on occasion. If you had just tilted your head up, leaned in--

"I know Kaeya was always jealous. I could talk you into anything but you refused his antics left and right."

"It's different. I actually like you and spending time with you." Diluc's deadpan response pulls a ugly snort-laugh from you. His relationship with Kaeya is an odd one but you know deep down he cares for his brother even if things aren't exactly civil between them.

"I feel so special."

"As you should, I don't like people." His sarcasm, that is half-joke, half-truth keeps you laughing.

The first wave of tiredness hits you, letting out an involuntary yawn. Your travels, the trek and fight from earlier catch up with you. Combined with the consumption of alcohol.

"I think the wine is getting to me, I feel a little sleepy." You finish off your glass with one gulp, smooth like silk down your throat, the lack of burn makes it far too easy to want to empty all the bottles. Four. You'd certainly regret that in the morning.

"I noticed." Diluc gets up first, three steps towards you, he is holding out his hand to you.

"I can walk myself, I am not that drunk." You protest his offer while reaching out and taking his hand, entwining your fingers without a second thought. Diluc gives your hand a squeeze, his slender fingers lightly caressing the back of your hand. He guides you upstairs to your room as if you don't know the way by heart as if your room would ever change.

"You would never ask for help yourself and you did break a vase the last time, even the smallest bit of intoxication seems to make you clumsier." Diluc gives his clear and absolutely unfair opinion. It happened one time!

It is really not necessary either to open the door for you, letting go of your hand only to press the large, warm palm of his hand against your back. Nor does Diluc need to kneel before you as you sit on the edge of the bed, unfastening your boots, removing your satchel and placing your belongings on the bedside table.

"It is hilarious to hear you of all people, calling me out of not asking for help. Mister Darknight."

Dliuc 'tsks' at the mention of his beloved hero name. "I am aware, that can be a little hypocritical."

"A little?"

"(Name)," Diluc speaks your name so tenderly, softly, as if the word itself is precious. "I simply want to help you, to car-" He clears his throat cutting off that train of thought. Pausing for seconds of silence pass, crimson eyes staring into your own. "If there was anyone I would accept help from it would be you."

That is dangerously close to an admission of something else. And all every moment of the past, all the maybe(s), what-ifs, almost(s) flash through your mind. You could take the leap or let this become another memory to turn over and over in your head, wondering, wanting, yearning.

"Get some rest." Diluc walks over to the door, standing in the open threshold of the room, hand gripping the door knob.

"Diluc, wait" It's barely a whisper, so hushed and subdued. So low, he doesn't hear it and when Diluc looks over his shoulder, the short-lived courage in you has diminished and you can't bring yourself to voice all the longing, desire, love trapped in your heart.

"Goodnight, Diluc."

"Goodnight, (Name)."

#Genshin Impact #Genshin impact fics #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact one shots #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios

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arilie · 4 years

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GOD OF WAR

Ares!Eren X GreekPrincess!Reader

Rating: NSFW

Summary: A war waged on a small island that guarded a prize wanted by all of Greece. After years of bloodshed and battles, an unknown warrior graces the battlefield. He swiftly disposes of the armies and makes it to the gates of the castle that held the golden trophy. You stared into his eyes and realized who he was, and that he had come to claim you.

A/N: This was started at like two in the morning and I stayed up wayyyy too late writing it. Shoutout to Izzy for the prompt, this will definitely be a multiple part series because I have so many ideas. Enjoy!

IMPORTANT: this work was inspired by the art posted by @/artofneight on Instagram. Here’s the link to their page!

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https://instagram.com/artofneight?igshid=x1dz5mawokpj

Please do not repost my work without proper credit. Likes, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!!

Helen was known to be the most beautiful woman in all of Greece. Thousands of men and mighty kings fought in Troy for a decade in her name. Even the great hero Achilles was seen on the battlefield, roaring in the name of great Helen. You wondered if she was truly that beautiful, and if her hand in marriage was worth so much bloodshed. As you looked out the window of your bedroom and onto the fortified walls of the castle, you also wondered if this is what she saw. Massive walls caging the castle in a protective circle. A sea of men armed to their necks in weapons stood before the walls. Beyond them were fields that were once a vibrant green. After years of war, the plains were now brown from all the blood they’ve soaked. It wasn’t unusual for you to sit beside your window and stare at the clouds of smoke and listen to the distant sounds of the battles. You have debated if this was all worth the deaths and massacres you’re sure have occurred on your land.

Five years later, the effort to overthrow your father and his reign was still raging on. Your people had options of course: side with the traitors or remain under the rule of the royal family. Those still loyal were the ones serving in your military. But after years of grueling battles your numbers were starting to fall. Your military fought against those part of the coup, and those from other kingdoms. The other nations of Greece were patient and their patience was rewarded with the uprising that suddenly occurred. They took the opportunity to try and take the island themselves. Many of them focused their efforts on the sea, fighting off other nations who wanted to join the war. Those who made it on land either joined the coup or fought against them. The island and its treasures were the spoils of war, but the biggest prize gazed out of a palace window deep on the island.

Winter was finally coming to an end, and you saw Demeter’s happiness in the way your plants were flourishing. They were the only things you could really have since the war started. Everything else went towards the war effort and trying to keep the army afloat. You stroked the petal of the flowers perched on your window. Persephone finally returned home from the underworld, and your flowers shared her mother’s joy. The air still had a chill from the remaining fragments of winter. You pulled on the silk that rested on your shoulders. The morning was still frigid and you wanted nothing more than to bury under the warm covers on your bed. Before you could act on your temptations, a knock was heard from your door.

“Y/n? Are you awake yet?”

“Yes I am awake. Please come in.” You replied.

A maid dressed in a simple dress entered your bedroom. In her hands she held a shining dress that had beautiful lace adorning it. You frowned at the item in her hands and stood from your spot near the window. The maid had placed the offending dress on a chair while she fussed over your bed. Watching her tidy the bed made you sigh in regret about not having dove under the covers. You picked up the dress and tried to keep the frown from deepening on your face. You knew this was expensive, you grew up with lavishness and riches many dreamed of. You were a woman after all, who didn’t like a new sparkling dress? But you knew your people—those left—needed it more than you did.

“Did this recently come in?” You asked.

The young maid jumped slightly at being addressed. “Yes my lady, the seamstress that has always made your clothes dropped it off this morning. She left some other items as well, but I thought you might want to wear that today.”

You hummed as an answer and placed the dress back on the chair. The soft patter of your feet was heard as you crossed your bedroom to the wardrobe that contained your clothes. You opened it, picked out an equally expensive dress and held it up.

“I’ve worn this dress maybe once, and I have hundreds more that haven’t even been touched. I don’t think I need new ones. I’ll take what I absolutely need from the seamstress. I want you to sell the rest and distribute it evenly among the workers in the palace.”

The poor girl flushed deep red. You didn’t know if it was at the generosity you just displayed, or the fact that she somehow displeased you.

“Please don’t think you have offended me. I appreciate the thought and tell the seamstress I loved it. What happens to my clothes stays between us, you understand?” You said.

The pink-cheeked girl nodded her head up and down furiously. You smiled at her and gestured for her to help you get dressed. She scurried behind you and helped you remove your nightgown. The linen on the dress you took out was soft against your skin. You thanked the girl for helping you and you finished tying off the dress.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“My name is Clio, your highness.” The maid answered.

“From now on you’ll be the only one who is allowed to dress me. I look forward to getting to know you, Clio.” You smiled at the younger girl. She stammered before thanking you profusely. You reached out and stroked her hair lovingly.

“Please go and do what I said for my clothes. Once it’s done come by and let me know.” You said.

Clio curtsied before she grabbed the glittering dress from the chair and rushed out of the room. You glanced down at the one you put on and realized it really was one you barely wore. The war made you realize how much you had, and how little others did. You straightened your shoulders and shook the thoughts out of your head. Every morning you and your parents met to discuss any changes in the war. It was usually the same thing every dawn, this army retreated while the other was victorious. You saw no end to it all.

The palace walls were still warming up after the cold night that passed. You were grateful for the warm dress you picked out earlier that morning. Each servant that passed by greeted you and you responded with a soft “good morning” to each one. You were known to be kind and elegant. Your mother taught you well on the principles of how to be a princess. Even though it was rumored you were among the most beautiful princesses in Greece, you were sure you were the most boring. You kept to yourself and focused your energy on your people and your kingdom. You didn’t know how to entertain, let alone keep the attention of a man. If it wasn’t for the war, you’re sure you’d be stumbling from one match up to the next.

The throne room was grand and fitted for the rulers of the kingdom. Your father and mother’s thrones were the same in height, displaying the natural balance they shared in power. You were raised to believe that no man was allowed to keep you as a pretty ornate on his arm. You were born to rule, and that’s what you would do. The chair beside your father’s was yours. It was smaller, but no less striking and imposing. It was in this room you all listened to the pleas and demands of your people. The room has been empty of any subjects since the war began. You walked through the room and took a turn into another, more private room. This was where you and your parents met every morning.

“Good morning my darling y/n, how was your sleep?” Your father stood from the chair he was occupying. You smiled warmly at him and walked into his embrace.

“It was fine, father. Although I can see that yours wasn’t as peaceful.” You remarked. The bags under his eyes seemed more pronounced, and his hair continued to gray at lightning speed.

“War does that to a person I’m afraid. You’re old enough to understand.” The king said.

You gave him a look before your mother came in with a swirl of fragrance and poise. She captured everyone in the room in the grace she held herself in. You were in awe of her when you were little, and you hoped you could have a husband who looked at you like your father did your mother.

“Good morning mother. I was just telling father that he needs to prioritize his rest. He looks like he’s already preparing for Thanatos to come pay a visit.” You teased. Your father still had his arms around you and pinched your hip in retaliation. You squealed and jumped away.

“Yes he certainly does look that way doesn’t he? One could say he’s already in Hades’ domain.” Your mother replied. You heard your father huff in mock anger before the queen kissed his cheek in apology.

“Now that we have concluded the discussion on my withering, I have some news for the both of you.” Your father said. His face suddenly turned serious and the prospect of something finally changing in the war made you sit down in the chair beside his.

“Plague has struck all of the armies except ours. Even those participating in the coup against us have fallen gravely ill. I got this report this morning. I have yet to talk to a priest, but I am not sure if this is the work of a god yet.”

You blinked up at him while you tried to process his words. A plague had struck. Your army was spared but for how long? You picked at the skin beside your nails, a habit your mother has tried to break all your life. The woman in question looked horrified for a second before she composed herself. She was calm and collected whereas my father was brash.

“That’s not all; a warrior has risen among the armies. It seems that he fights alone. I’ve gotten reports that he plows through every brigade and unit mercilessly. He’s getting closer and closer to the castle each day.” Your father said grimly.

This news made your breath hitch. If the so-called warrior made it to the walls—no, if he made it passed them—he’d ask for a reward. You turned to look at your father and saw he was already looking at you.

“If he makes it here, he’ll ask for me as a prize, won’t he?” You asked.

Your father sighed and rubbed at his eyes. Such casualness was only reserved for you and his wife. In front of others he must always convey an act of indifference; not letting his emotions show. You knew giving your hand in marriage was something that had to be included in a peace offering. He wished he could keep you safe in the palace forever, but the bloody war had to come to an end.

“Father, it is alright if he does ask for my hand. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this war end. I want peace as desperately as you do. Our people have suffered too much.” You clasped his hand away from his face and into yours.

Your mother remained quiet, but you expected nothing less. She was more distant with you, having grown up in a different nation with different rules. She didn’t approve of your independence, but you knew she’d agree with you. The king seemed to age in his seat more as he debated your statement. You couldn’t stand to see him in this state any longer.

Before you could answer, your mother intervened, “It is decided then. If he does make it to the castle and gets past the walls, we will give him what he asks for. If that prize is y/n, we can use it to convince the other kingdoms to sign a treaty. The biggest prize would have been claimed and the war doesn’t need to continue.”

You digested your mother’s words and let go of your fathers hand so he wouldn’t feel the tremble in your fingers. You hoped the warrior slashing through all those men would be kind to you. You felt like a child again, hoping that fate would give you mercy for once.

The next morning, you were abruptly woken to the shouts of the guards outside your window. You stirred in your sleep, not paying much mind to the ruckus of men. Then you realized, those men were the ones guarding the walls. You jolted upright in your bed and swung the covers off of your body. The chill of the morning air bit at your exposed arms and legs. Clinging to the side of the window, you watched as the men outside all fought against a single enemy. At first, you were confused as to why it took so many of them. You didn’t see infantries and captains on horses. Then a single chill ran down your spine as you realized: the warrior.

You quickly opened your wardrobe and pulled out the first dress you could find. You hastily undressed yourself and put the dress on. If he made it past the walls, you needed to be present. It was just yesterday you were discussing this. Had he been that close already? Who was this man?

Having the dress securely on, you almost sprinted out the door of your bedroom. You hurried to the throne room where no doubt your parents were also arriving at. When you entered, you saw your mother sitting on her throne with her king pacing before her. You walked quickly to them and stood before their thrones gasping for breath. You made eye contact with your mother and for the first time in your life you saw nervousness. Your mother’s blatant show of emotions did nothing to stop the galloping of your heart.

The doors of the throne room were slammed open and you all turned towards the intruder. Standing before you was a man well over six feet. His hips had a white cloth around them that hung loose. His torso was bare and exposed, a clear sign of strength. No wounds were littering the ripples of muscle that shifted as he walked towards you. What armor he did have clanged as he walked; the bronze pieces were placed on his shoulders and around his calves. Dark brown sandals adorned his feet, and he held a mighty spear with one hand and a shield in the other. The shield had two wings adorned on it, a symbol that seemed almost familiar. Once he got close enough, he removed his helmet to reveal his handsome face. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were a forest green. His jaw was sharp and was clenched shut. His hair was past his shoulders and the brown accentuated his beautiful eyes.

You backed up against your father, and he came to stand before you. No words were spoken in the first few seconds, the shock of it all weighing on your shoulders. The warrior then inclined his head in a greeting. His lack of bow indicated he was someone important, of higher or equal standard to your father.

“Greetings. I have fought against many men and many armies to make it to this fortress. I heard a tale that a beautiful maiden was hidden away here. I have come to claim her as my prize.” The warrior said.

Your father didn’t react at first and you saw his fists clenched by his sides. Your mother soon came too and took his hand, instantly relaxing him.

“May we ask first who you are? It has been many years since this war began, and not one army has made it halfway to this castle. Yet here you stand, alone.” Your mother’s tone was curious.

“This war has been going on long enough, with no end in sight. As you said, no one has gotten remotely close to this castle. I thought it was about time I stepped in and put an end to things.” The warrior smiled and the wings on his shield glowed. I gasped as I finally remembered, the wings were the symbol of the gods. A man who obliterated armies and made it here alone was no man at all.

I stepped forward and passed my parents. The warrior—god, looked into my eyes and a warmth spread throughout my entire body. None of us spoke again, we stared into each other’s eyes as if looking for the answers to our own questions. I went through all the names of the gods and who would have any remote interest in a human war.

“I am Ares, god of war and brother to Zeus, king of the gods. I quite enjoyed the prayers and offerings this war brought to me in the beginning. But I believe this war has lasted too long now.” Ares said.

You felt a hand wrap around your arm before you were dragged back and into the chest of your father. You trembled in his grasp, not quite believing what you were hearing. The god of war has come to claim the prize all of Greece was fighting for. Not just any minor god either, an Olympian.

“Ares, god of war, you are welcomed into my home and in my kingdom. We will do our best to ensure your comfort and pleasure while you are here. But if I may be so bold, is my daughter really the only prize you want?” The king asked. You glanced at the glowing god before you and his eyes held a humor to them.

“Yes, I’d like your daughter’s hand in marriage. My siblings have claimed mortals as their spouses and I have yet to. Of course, if my wish is granted I will also stop the war.”

You froze at the last sentence. If you accepted his request, you could end the war for once and for all. You wove out of your father’s protective arms and turned towards the god of war. You took a deep breath in, looked at him in the eyes and curtsied as low as you could.

“I accept your request, my lord. So long as you end the suffering that my people have endured all these years, I will be your wife.” You said shakily.

Ares grinned as he lifted his hand towards you. You took his offered palm and he lifted you off the ground with ease. “Starting now, you will be my equal. You bow down to no one, not even to me.”

You widen your eyes in surprise before you nod your head. You turn back to your parents and a look of bewilderment overtook their features. Ares pulled on your hand some more until you were pressed against his side. His body radiates warmth and power. His smell was that of the hearth and firewood. It was intoxicating.

“Please announce the news that y/n is engaged. I will see to it that this war can finally end on peaceful terms.” Ares declared. Your parents looked at each other before they looked at you. You were still in shock of the events happening, but you gave them a reassuring nod. It was the start of something unforgettable.

Ares had kept his word and made sure the war ended. He revealed himself to the armies of Greece and declared your kingdom under his protection. Soon the armies dispersed and left your land barren for the first time in five years. The princess y/n was finally claimed, and Ares was the one who got her hand in marriage.

You spent most of your time enjoying the freedom you had once again. You were able to take strolls out in the gardens and pick more flowers for your bedroom. Ares had been occupied with the ending of the war, but he made sure to visit when he had the chance. He was witty, sarcastic, and everything a god should be. He was radiant and you quickly grew infatuated with him. He joined you on your strolls to the garden and helped you pick flowers. It had been months now since he first arrived at your castle, declaring that he would marry you. The wedding preparations were going as fast as they could after the end of a war.

You picked up a lily that you found and smelled it. The aroma made you sigh in delight. Arms suddenly encircled your waist and a strong chest pressed against your back. You kept the flower close to your face as you were turned to face the perpetrator. Ares glanced down at you and noticed the petals hiding the blush on your cheeks. He chuckled to himself and slowly moved the flower away from your face. He traced your features with his fingers and the gesture had your knees weak.

“We are intended to be married, yet you still blush in my presence.” He said.

“You are a god and I am a mere mortal. I still do not understand why you chose me as your prize.” You confessed.

He grew suddenly serious and you were afraid you had said something offensive. You opened your mouth to apologize when he leaned down to kiss you. His lips were as warm as the rest of him, and their softness made you melt against him. He grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him so his burning chest was against yours. You realized that he was always warm as if he was aflame. Your hands twitched before they reached for his shoulders. He sighed against your lips as they moved with practice and ease. His silky hair brushed against your fingers as you held onto his shoulders for support.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and cupped your cheek. His thumb stroked against the blush still present on your skin. You blinked up at him, still in awe of the kiss he placed on your lips.

“I’ve heard about you for some time now. I knew of your beauty first and was intrigued. Then I watched over you and saw how truly cared for your people. You’d put their happiness over yours in a heartbeat. I admire that, you’d make a fine queen.” He said softly.

You let out a breath and used your grip on his shoulders to drag his addicting lips back to yours. You felt bold as you stood on the tips of your toes and crashed your lips against his. His shock only lasted a second before he cupped your face with both hands. The kiss was more intense than the first, a clear longing present in his tongue as it brushed against your lip. Electricity shot down to your toes as you granted him passage, and you didn’t know if kissing you was enjoyable due to your inexperience. His tongue prodded at yours and coaxed it into a dance that had your legs shaking.

Finally breaking apart, you looked into his deep green eyes once again. His mouth was pulled into a mischievous smirk, and you gave him a small smile in return. If he was to be your husband, you figured you could enjoy the pleasantries that came with your marriage.

“You make me feel like a mortal barely plunging into maturity. I can barely control myself around you.” Ares whispered.

“I am to be your wife, please don’t hold back.” You replied. Your eyes were sultry and he quickly grabbed your arm before pulling you back into the castle. Your chest was full of fluttering monarchs at the prospect of him finally letting go and indulging himself in you.

Servants and soldiers watched you with silent eyes as the god of war dragged you to your chambers. Your blush was evident, and you thanked his siblings for watching over you and placing your parents in another part of the castle.

The door to your bedroom was pushed open and once it closed Ares pushed your back against it. You huffed at the slight force and impact before your lips were once again trapped against his. He snaked his knee between your knees and pressed it against you. You gasped at the feeling and decided to be bold again as you grind down against his thigh. He groaned against your mouth before departing from it. He placed kisses along your jaw and sucked on the space just beneath it. He continued to place searing kisses on your neck as he used his leg to further drive you up the door.

“I won’t take you here, not until you have the security of our marriage as comfort. But there are other things we can do.” Ares mumbled into your neck. He pulled back to look at you, flustered and with lust swirling in your eyes. He suddenly reached under your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his lithe waist and he carried you towards your bed.

He gently placed you on the soft cushion and began to slowly untie your linen dress. You stroked his arms and admired the muscle that rippled under the skin like strong waves in a storm. Once your dress was untied, he pulled it up and you took the indication to sit up. He took the dress up and over your head as you lifted your arms. The dress fluttered onto the floor beside your bed as you laid back down. You were told all your life that your beauty could rival Helen’s, but you didn’t believe it until the god in front of you stared at you like you placed the cosmos in the sky.

He leaned down and began to place kisses down your chest until he reached your chest. He whispered praise against your skin as he took one into his mouth and held the other. You took in a sharp breath and let out a low whine as he worked you into oblivion. His tongue was running over your nipple and you squirmed beneath his strong body as he massaged the other. He finally relented and switched breasts until he had you moaning. He smirked up at you as you gasped in the air you desperately needed.

“I’ve barely just begun and you’re already so responsive. I can’t wait for our waiting night.” The god quipped. He trailed his lips lower until it got to the undergarments that covered you. He pulled them down from your hips and his eyes sparkled at how wet you were already. He placed kisses against your inner thighs as he pulled the piece of fabric off of your legs. Then he breathed against you until he placed his mouth on your clit. You threw your head back and cried out. You’ve touched yourself and are aware of what you like and don’t. But all of your preferences were forgotten as he ate you out like a starved man. He moaned against you as your hands reached down to pull on his hair. He licked and sucked on your clit until you were writhing in pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

“Ares, please…” you whined.

“Use your words, darling. What do you need?” He said.

Your chest heaved as he continued to suck your clothes making you take longer to respond. “Need your fingers inside. Wanna feel them inside please.”

Evergreen eyes looked up at you, and the sight of the god of war between your thighs had you losing your breath. His hand resting on one of your legs came up to your entrance. He erotically licked his lips and slowly eased them into you. Your head was thrown back as you moaned into your pillow. He began to pump his long fingers until his hand was in up to his knuckle. He began to make a motion upwards that had the tips of his fingers press against a spot within you that made you yelp. He grinned up at you as he began to twist and push against the same spot. There was a pressure in your abdomen as he continued to pleasure you. Then his mouth was on you again and you were crying out his name.

“Ares! Yes, right there! Please, please make me cum. I want to cum, let me cum please.” You cried. Your pleading words increased his efforts and you moaned loudly. His hair was still gripped between your fingers and his unoccupied hand was digging bruises into your hip. You felt scorching hot pleasure shoot from your core to the rest of your body.

“Cum for me, y/n. Show me how good I make you feel.” Ares growled beneath you.

One final push and suck had you opening your mouth in a silent scream. The pressure in you finally released making you feel white hot pleasure. Your legs shook as Ares continued his ministrations, prolonging your orgasm into the realm of overstimulation. You whimpered once you came down from your high, pulling against his hair to indicate you were done. He looked up at you and he licked his lips as if the very ambrosia that gave him sustenance was placed within you. He licked his fingers in the same manner, and you felt your body heat up again at the display. He crawled up your body and captured your lips in a searing kiss. You tasted your essence and didn’t mind as his tongue pushed against yours.

He pulled away and laid beside you as he took you into his arms. “That was just a glimpse into the pleasure I can bring to you. When we are married, I’ll lay my claim on you in the most passionate way.”

You smiled up at him and placed your hands on his chest. This was barely the beginning of your life with him, and you couldn’t deny the want and need the thrummed within you. An Olympian, the very god of war chose you as his. You were ready to see what else that entailed.

#aot fanfiction #aot manga #aot anime #aot x reader #attack on titan #eren jäger #eren x you #eren x reader #anime #fanfic #aot fandom

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murdereraisuha · 4 years

Text

Actually, Jamil is Snow White

Now that I have your attention with my batshit theory, let me explain it along with my other predictions for the future events of chapter 5 in a 2,500+ word mess of an essay.

The past chapters have all correlated to the plot of the original Disney movie in some way. So how does chapter 5 correlate with Snow White? For the movie's story, it starts with Snow White living with her stepmother, who is vain, self-centered, and afraid that one day Snow White will surpass her beauty. The Queen makes efforts to suppress Snow White's beauty by making her a scullery maid, but Snow White does eventually surpass her. This causes the Queen to order her Huntsman to kill Snow White, but the Huntsman can't bring himself to do it and he presents the queen with a decoy heart instead.

What's interesting about TWST is that Neige has already surpassed Vil at the very beginning. Furthermore, rather than focus solely on his own beauty and beat down potential rivals, Vil attempts to nurture the beauty of the rest of his dorm and the VDC team. So how in the world do we correlate the events of the chapter to the original movie? Well, we know from previous chapters that the person twisted from a character might not be the one to actually take that character's role in the story. Though Farena exists, the one Leona tries to sabotage is Malleus. Though Rielle exists, the one Azul makes a special deal with is Yuu. Even though Neige has played a bigger part in the story so far compared to Farena and Rielle, he still might not actually be the Snow White of this story. So who are our possible candidates here?

As the person meant to rival Neige's cute appeal, Epel is the first one to pop into mind. Perhaps the NRC team's performance during the VDC goes well enough that Epel suddenly gets tons of popularity. The internet latches onto him, so much so that, at least temporarily, he ends up surpassing both Vil and Neige in Mira's beauty calculation. However, this wouldn't make sense. The Queen is supposed to hate and sabotage the Snow White, and Vil has no reason to do that to Epel after spending so much effort helping him with the express goal of having him beat out Neige. So who else?

While browsing Pixiv one night, I came across a funny comic (it was long ago enough that I don't remember how to find it again, unfortunately) where Azul actually did livestream Jamil's evil monologue in chapter 4. Rather than becoming a big scandal though, it actually becomes famous because of how good-looking Jamil is, so much so that Vil finds out about it because Jamil's name is the one Mira tells him when Vil does a beauty check. Vil proceeds to change his plans for the VDC by dumping Epel and choosing Jamil as the sole main vocal so that Jamil is his "poison apple" against Neige instead.

With the recent update, Vil's plan for the VDC is officially finalized, so that comic is firmly in AU territory. However, what if something similar happens? The NRC team's performance goes amazing. However, it is not Vil or Epel that gain attention, but Jamil, the 3rd main vocalist. Against Vil and everyone else's expectations and plans, the internet goes wild over this mysterious pretty boy, boosting Jamil into the position of most beautiful. Even Neige had to spend some amount of time getting gigs and whatever to attain his fame, but Jamil has done basically nothing outside the VDC and now he's suddenly the best... How would Vil feel about that?

With the whole trend of the previous overblot causing the next, this theory of Jamil = Snow White makes sense. Though they could always make it so it's Neige and Epel doing the stuff and then at the end Jamil delivers a speech or something that gives the final push to overblot, it would be a lot more interesting (and funny) for Jamil to be thrust into the spotlight earlier on and be a main reason for Vil's overblot.

However, all of this assumes that the beginning of Snow White correlates with the beginning of chapter 5. Let's consider that the beginning of chapter 5 actually correlates with the situation later in the movie when the Queen is plotting to get Snow White with the poison apple. In this situation, Neige would actually be the Snow White of the story. However, unless we pull some funky timeline stuff, the theory I've seen of Rook betraying Vil wouldn't happen then, since we're already past that point in the movie. So what is next? In the movie, Snow White bites the apple and falls asleep. The dwarfs return to their cottage and chase the Queen, who eventually falls to her death when a lightning bolt destroys the precipice she's cornered on. (Fun fact from Wikipedia, her scream while falling was reused for Sleeping Beauty when Maleficent gets stabbed by the Sword of Truth). Anyway, the dwarfs proceed to put Snow White in the glass coffin until a year later when the prince kisses her and takes her to his castle.

Welp, look here, we have the dwarves in TWST, so they could definitely fulfill the try to hurt Vil part here. But what would lead them to do that? Assuming that as RSA students they are heroic, they would hurt Vil if they felt that he had hurt Neige. Vil's plan for the VDC competition seems to just be performing like normal and hoping that their hard work and effort will shine through and win them the competition, so either something has to happen that causes a last-minute change to that plan or some sort of misunderstanding (Vil getting canceled) happens. How would a misunderstanding happen? It could originate from fans angry that Neige didn't win, but Vil has plenty of his own fans to counter that and make an even-sided battle. Some new falling out between Vil and Epel could occur, resulting in either Epel himself going and hurting Vil's reputation or someone else (the media or Neige) seeing Epel distraught and believing that Vil is abusing him in some way. If it's Neige that could be interesting since it'd kinda be a situation where Epel is Snow White and Neige is his Huntsman. Neige x Epel new otp??? haha anyway, there's also the possibility that the RSA students are not heroic, and the dwarves go and make rumors about Vil themselves as an underhanded strategy to give Neige the victory.

All this talk is making me forget about my boy Jamil though. How would he fit in here? Again, from the previous overblots, we know that Jamil will likely oppose Vil in some way. We have also established that this chapter 5's start = the Queen's poison apple plan's start, so Neige is the Snow White. The remaining roles for Jamil are the dwarves (unlikely since we have actual dwarves), the huntsman (unlikely since timeline and also Rook exists), and finally, the prince. Jamil x Neige new otp??? lmao anyway, What would this role mean for his involvement in the story? Well, the prince only shows up at the end to wake up Snow White, so that would make this a situation like I mentioned before with Jamil just showing up to do a speech or something that pushes Vil over the edge. Boring, what else could we do?

Well, what about the original fairy tale of Snow White? In there, the dwarves don't kill the Queen. Instead, she lives until the day of Snow White and the prince's wedding, where the prince makes her dance in red-hot slippers until she dies as punishment for trying to kill Snow White. Why would Jamil give enough of a shit about Neige to go against Vil like that though? Well, y'know what fuck it let's squeeze someone else into the role of Snow White. Kalim certainly has the hair color for it. Since Kalim is just one of the backup vocals and hasn't had much going on aside from his personal character development this chapter idk what Vil could possibly do to him. Perhaps something pertaining to his family's wealth and fame? Whatever it is, some sort of threat to Kalim would be enough motivation for Jamil to do something to Vil. Interaction between Kalim and Jamil would also serve to finish up whatever development is going on between them. Seriously bro I know Jamil was probably just stalking Kalim in that one episode to make sure he's safe but that scene is really haunting me WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Whatever, let's keep this circus rolling with some Rook discussion! Again, we got the theory that Rook will betray Vil like the Huntsman betrayed the Queen. To discuss this idea, we gotta discuss Rook's motivations first. In episode 5-27, quoting from the translation on the wiki by Kanade Musings, Rook claims that "being a mere spectator to beautiful people and beautiful things provide [him] with such happiness" and he is "here to offer what help [he] can to help save beauty." However, he points out that "Vil does not need [Rook] to save him;" instead, what Rook wants "to protect is not Vil himself, but rather the 'beauty' he possesses." The chapter ends with Rook saying that the others would understand what he's saying if they encountered a "beauty that is blinding" and would "bring light to [their] lives."

So, with this information, would Rook betray Vil and why would he betray Vil? Well, there's the possibility that RSA's performance wows him and he switches to protecting Neige's beauty. However, this doesn't feel right to me. Neige is very famous. His first appearance was in a commercial that Cater got even when not specifically trying to find stuff on Neige. I would seriously doubt that Rook has not already done research into Neige and observed what beauty he has. If Rook doesn't already find Neige extraordinarily beautiful, I doubt that a single dance performance could transform his opinion of him. However, what if that was compounded by some loss of Vil's beauty? However, would Rook allow that to happen? He expressly said he wishes to protect Vil's beauty. If Vil lost beauty, would Rook really abandon him, or would he work to bring Vil back to his senses and restore his beauty?

Now, going back to the idea of Rook doing a betrayal, we already established way back at the beginning of this monstrosity (if you made it this far please take a hydration break or something alright? take care of yourself I love you) that Neige is not necessarily the Snow White of the story. So, we have the possibility of Rook turning against Vil on Epel's behalf, which... doesn't seem right. Idk it might be because I still just can't envision a scenario with Rook outright betraying Vil. Again, Rook has spent a bunch of time observing Epel and watching him grow. What could Epel possibly do that could mega boost his beauty in Rook's eyes? He's spent time observing Jamil too, though not as much as he observes some other people. Like, Rook is a hunter, extremely skilled at assessing targets and figuring out what makes them tick. For his opinion of someone to seriously change, it would require equally exceptional deception or change on the target's part. Seriously, why would he betray Vil?

Okay, how about we consider what exactly Rook finds beautiful. As we know from the auditions (ボーテ！100点！), Rook was able to find beauty in every person's performance, no matter how clumsy or unskilled they were. So, we get the sense that at the very least, Rook considers things beautiful that most people wouldn't consider beautiful. Then, what makes Vil beautiful to him? We know Vil is beautiful by normal person standards, but Rook doesn't go by normal person standards. Does Rook feel drawn to his determination? His power? Something we don't know about yet? I don't think we know for sure, so we don't know what it would take for Vil to lose beauty in Rook's eyes.

Well, there's a part of Rook that hasn't really come up in the main story yet: his fascination with the nonhuman students. This just brings up more questions. Since Vil is human... as far as we know... Rook's behavior towards him is motivated by something different than that which motivates his hunts, even if that something different is just a different way of being beautiful. ARGHH I DON'T KNOWWWWW we're going into his voice lines

Alright, ceremonial robes home tap 3 (from twstarchives): "There is beauty that some are just born with, but the beauty you work hard to achieve holds immeasurable power. Isn't that right?" Okay now we're getting somewhere, he appreciates hard work! Oh yeah didn't Vil say some stuff cause he felt defeated by Neige being better even though Vil put in all this hard work? The development of that sort of attitude would probably constitute a loss of beauty. Hard work would therefore also make someone beautiful in Rook's eyes.

So, who works hard? Yep, Jamil we're bringing you in again. Remember, a change is needed to drive the plot and prompt a change in Rook. Haven't we had a major change in Jamil's attitude already? Starting with having to funnel all his hard work into Kalim and keeping himself under Kalim, after chapter 4 Jamil is now channeling his work into himself and finally showing off his true talents. Given that Rook can't possibly stalk everyone in NRC in-depth, he likely doesn't have a complete idea of Jamil's capabilities especially given how Jamil was specifically trying to stay under the radar. This may give Jamil the possibility to surprise Rook with his full power, potentially shifting Rook's opinion enough to give him a significant appreciation of Jamil's beauty.

With all this information, I think I can try and build a rough simulation of events. So, the VDC teams do their performances and wow the crowd. In the meantime while the judges are deciding who wins, some shit goes down: Vil gets canceled or something, Jamil gains popularity, idk something with Neige & the dwarves. Vil's mental health takes a turn for the worst and he resorts to underhandedness. He enlists Rook for some plot against Jamil or Neige. However, Kalim gets caught in the crossfire. Inspired by Jamil's beauty and efforts to help Kalim, Rook ends up going against the plan and Vil. Vil overblots, blah blah backstory, then the judges release the results of the competition, and the winding down/aftermath/party time is the 2nd day of the festival whatever when the gang can go see all the other booths and stuff.

Even after all this I sincerely doubt my final prediction here will come to pass but y'know, all about the journey not the destination. Honestly, I thought of the title of this post when I was only partway through like "Haha isn't this theory about Jamil being Snow White so out there" but nope that's actually a foundation of my ideas now. What am I doing??? Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this mess. Please feel free to message me or something if this rant gave you any ideas that you wanna share.

#twst analysis #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #neige leblanche #rook hunt #epel felmier #twst theories

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rinzis · 3 years

Text

writing about my new genshin oc??? okay?????okay!!!!!! i’m on mobile so i can’t add the read more option i’m so sorry

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details

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name: kiyoharu misa

birthday: august 3rd

sex/pronouns: female, she/her

region: inazuma

constellation: lunam lilia

vision: electro

weapon: sword

rarity: 5*

title: princess of the kiyoharu household, moonlit swordsmaiden (unofficial)

affiliation: kiyoharu clan, the resistance

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synopsis

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the princess of the fallen household kiyoharu. she carries a patterned umbrella which she is seldom seen without, and within which lies her precious katana. a gentle yet influential soul, she is well known for her impressive swordsmanship throughout the resistance in inazuma.

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character story

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character details

at first glance, people might not think that kiyoharu misa was anything special. seeing a young woman strolling through the land of inazuma carrying an intricate paper umbrella would not faze anyone. but, under this delicate guise, misa conceals both her dear katana and her vision.

the princess of the kiyoharu household is known to be a gentle soul who yearns for freedom from the raiden shogun and the tenryou commission. since her childhood, she has always been fascinated by the moon and its rays, a particular trait of kiyoharu descendants. misa earned herself the title of ‘moonlit swordsmaiden’ after combining her unparalleled swordsmanship with her illuminated vision.

story 1

the kiyoharu clan was once a widely respected and loved clan across inazuma. the household was known for its tendency to produce talented swordsmen who earn themselves visions through selflessness and helping others, and for this reason they were seen as high nobility. however, members of the kiyoharu household were reluctant in hiring many maids or servants - they believe that if one can be capable of harnessing the power gifted by gods through blade alone, one should also be able to cook a simple meal, or wash their own clothing. through this doctrine the kiyoharu descendants earned themselves unwavering respect from all citizens of inazuma, and even the raiden shogun herself - for a while.

story 2

descendants such as misa are taught from a young age to honour their ancestors, but also those who currently serve inazuma as well. misa excelled in swordsmanship, being able to wield a blade so gracefully to the point where it appeared as though she was dancing, using it as simply an accessory. the leader of the clan gifted to her a delicate paper umbrella, and he spoke to her these words: “do not mistake kindness for weakness. from dainty petals drip deadly poisons.”, and with that, misa understood her duty. she would protect the citizens of inazuma with her life, with her dainty umbrella and deadly blade at her side. she is seldom seen without either.

story 3

the kiyoharu clan were known best for the number of descendants who possess visions. thus, when the vision hunt decree was issued, the tenryou commission sought out every member of the household owning a vision. misa’s family would rather have died than hand over their precious visions. despite their unyielding fighting spirit, the kiyoharu household was overcome by the sheer numbers in the tenryo commission. there were supposedly no survivors, but it just so happened that the young kiyoharu misa was dispatched on a mission on behalf of the household the day it fell. the young swordsmaiden returned to her home in ruins, her whole life taken from her. she knew at that moment that as the sole descendant of the kiyoharu household, she would avenge her clan and return lost visions to those who suffer at the hands of the tenryo commission.

story 4

misa met all sorts of people on her journey through inazuma as a vision-bearing fighter, the most notable of all being the ronin kaedehara kazuha. she used to live a life of solitude in a small house near the edge of the islands of inazuma, but this life of solitude was changed upon seeing the rain-soaked samurai appear at her doorstep one evening. seeing each other’s visions, misa realised that kazuha was not a threat at all. the days they spent together inspired misa to venture out, to find the resistance in inazuma alongside the swordsman and reclaim justice for the fallen. and so, she left yet another life behind to travel with kazuha through inazuma in search of everything and nothing at all. nights of listening to the ronin’s musings and conversing under the moonlight unknowingly planted a blossom in misa’s heart, one which would remain there forever.

story 5

misa and kazuha’s travels took them all across inazuma. despite them both being wanted for their visions, the tenryo commission’s lackeys and treasure hoarders were no match for the pair’s skill in bladework. misa secretly yearned day after day for any sign of affection or mutuality from the young samurai, but as the princess of a famed clan she chose to remain composed and calm about the whole ordeal. however, when the ronin told the princess of his plan to leave inazuma with the crux fleet, he explained that he did not want to take this life from her. he confessed that his musings and haikus about the heart and its desires he so often shared with her were about her, and that his own heart would belong eternally to her. thus, he left her with a simple promise. “the wind will bring us together once again, misa. i will return home to you, and then will i forever devote myself to you. this i promise, my princess.”

the kiyoharu sword dance

those who have witnessed kiyoharu misa in battle often note how she appears more to be dancing than harshly fighting. the kiyoharu household drew its strength and style in battle from the moon and its light, and they channeled this into their blades during battle. misa’s god given agility combined with this graceful power leads ultimately to her captivating swordsmanship. with the electro imbued in her blade, misa is all too capable in taking down foes with ease. in the night hours, a stroll down to a clearing or open beach may lead you to find the princess honing her blade under the silver of the moon, with a sword that never sleeps. she is renowned throughout the resistance as one of the most talented swordswomen in inazuma.

the vision

misa was granted her vision during a particularly dangerous incident during her early training years. one fateful evening, she was out with other kiyoharu swordsmen, practicing her skills with her blade in the open country.

“lady misa, please remain here while we briefly survey the area. we have had reports of active treasure hoarders roaming this area, and we would hate for anything to happen to you at this time. we will be back shortly.”

and so, they left her on the path to scout the surrounding land. clutching the hilt of her sword, the very thought of being ambushed by grown men with malicious intentions worried misa, especially since she hadn’t obtained a vision yet. but alas, how wrong her fellow swordsmen were.

“well, what do we have here? the prestigious kiyoharu misa, is it? count ourselves lucky boys, it’s just the one we were after.”, drawled the advancing treasure hoarders.

her hands trembled on her sword. how could she possible deter these twenty, no, thirty treasure hoarders alone? glancing down at her sheathed blade, misa wondered if she’d see her family again.

no, why was she thinking like this?

steady yourself, misa. focus on your breathing. the dance will go on. your blade does not rest.

she draws her sword.

to the young swordsmaiden’s surprise, a new energy unlike anything she had witnessed before struck her senses. and so she danced, her blade piercing the air and with it bringing down the treasure hoarders in quick succession. but she could only go on for so long.

panting, misa retreated towards the edge of the river. the men relentlessly kept on coming, and she knew she was almost completely spent. her legs and hands quivered, and her mind raced with prayers to the goddess baal. with a small breath, she spoke these words:

“archons, guide me. i beg, lend me your strength.”

a faint crackling filled the air, before a tremendous burst of silver lightning struck the ground before her. the sword in her hands glowed a pale purple, and it was then that she realised the archons had answered her prayers. wielding this newfound power, she swung her blade with a new fervour.

twenty, no, thirty treasure hoarders lay at the princess of the kiyoharu household’s feet. the chime of a small ornament hitting the ground was the only sound after the crackling died down. at long last, kiyoharu misa’s vision had been granted to her by the gods. holding the electro vision in her hands, she whispered these words:

“the dance will go on.”

—

voice lines

—

hello

“i’m kiyoharu misa, nice to meet you! l-lady misa? oh no, please — there’s really no need for the formalities. i’m just as ordinary as you are. say, how about we travel together for a while? i’m sure your stories are bound to keep me entertained on our arduous journeys.”

chat: urgency

“a storm is brewing… let’s keep moving.”

chat: resting

“you’d like to rest? alright, want to share a quick meal?”

chat: sword

“i should really polish my sword soon…”

when it rains

“my my, it seems the heavens really have opened. let’s find shelter quickly, i’d hate to continue travelling in this weather.”

after the rain

“the lingering scent of the rain is one of my most favourite smells… for me, it heralds a fresh start. well, come on then! shall we head off?”

when it snows

“hmm… i really do enjoy the snow. especially when the moonlight casts a glimmering sheen over the world, enveloping inazuma in a soft silver. i hope we can witness it together sometime.”

when the wind is blowing

“i have a friend who adores the wind. he left some time ago, but i know he will return home to me one day. sometimes i wonder if i can hear his voice catching on the breeze, lines of poetry drifting along with it. hey, don’t give me that look! we’re just… uh… friends...”

good morning

“[sigh] i’m really not much of a morning person. i’m certainly not on my best form in the late morning hours… oh, you’re ready to leave already? r-right, i’ll be ready as soon as possible!”

good afternoon

“hmm, i’m feeling a little hungry… would you like to grab a bite to eat? no, it’s alright - there are inns up ahead that know the resistance. we’ll be just fine. and, if not, we have our blades. heh.”

good evening

“the setting sun is particularly pretty this evening. once the storm has fully settled, i hope to see the true beauty of the inazuman skies once again. i will see that vision to the end.”

good night

“you’re heading to sleep? alright, sleep well. me? well… the moon is my friend, i suppose. a little sword dance under its light helps me retain my focus. i won’t be too long, don’t worry.”

about kiyoharu misa

“my umbrella? oh, it was a gift from the leader of the kiyoharu household when i was born. i had it altered to accommodate the length and width of my sword - see? though it appears to be but a dainty paper umbrella, what lies within is a retribution sentence. it is my will given form.”

about us: kiyoharu origin

“my title as princess of the kiyoharu clan is something i will carry with me forever. despite the unjust fall of my household, i will bring back its honour. the raiden shogun’s vision hunt decree stripped my family of their lives, thus i swear i will reclaim justice. for them, and for the future.”

about us: kiyoharu motto

“the motto of the kiyoharu household is: “with grace and with fortitude.”, and i channel this saying into my sword whenever i draw it. it is the foundation for the kiyoharu way of life.”

about us: sword art

“ah, i see you have taken an interest in my fighting style. for me, fighting with a sword should not just be about the battle. it is an art, and i find myself overindulging in the grace and fluidity of swordsmanship all too often.”

about the vision

“my vision? i see it as a way of showing solidarity against the oppressive raiden shogun. i do not wish to hide that which is so dear to me, and that which forges my identity. this vision is my symbol of strength, and the tenryo commission who seeks it will be met with my unyielding blade.”

something to share

“i’m not sure how long you will be in inazuma for, but traveler - one day, i’d like to take you to a festival here. they are truly wonderful, and members of the resistance always find ourselves sneaking in to witness them as well. ever since i was young, i’ve loved them so much, and i’d love to share this memory with you as a reminder of your time in inazuma.”

interesting things

“traveler, is it true that in liyue there are gods that walk amongst the people? huh… adepti you say… so, they just co-exist with mortals peacefully? you’ve met them?! wow… it seems i underestimated your power! just what else have you witnessed since being in teyvat…”

about kazuha: relationships

“kaedehara kazuha? ahem… well… yes, i suppose you could say that we are… lovers, of sorts. on his final night here, he left me with a single promise. i often spend nights staring up at the moon with him in my mind. i will wait for him, for as long as it takes, i know that i will see him again one day. i know that he will return home soon.”

about kazuha: poetry

“kazuha would often recite haikus to me as we’d live together when he was here. i remember him arriving at my doorstep, drenched in rain from head to toe, and i hadn’t the heart to turn him away. he stayed for a while, and after a few days i decided to risk it all for him. the bond we share… is unbreakable. if you see him, let him know that i am waiting for him.”

about kamisato ayaka

“i have a lot of respect for the princess of the kamisato clan. she conducts herself in a light i admire greatly, and she and i are close friends. her swordsmanship is just as impressive, and i would love it if we could spar once more as we used to. perhaps i will visit her soon…”

about yoimiya

“yoimiya? oh, of course - festivals in inazuma aren’t complete without a firework show organised by her. i have also heard her skills with a bow are unique, to say the least. paired with her passion for fireworks, i assume the combination work… interestingly in battle.”

about sayu

“hm? sayu… you mean the ninja who resides in the forests? i can’t say i’ve seen much of her… which is odd, considering she wields that great claymore…”

about gorou

“oh, gorou! i know him very well, actually. he was one of the first people i befriended as part of the resistance. he is a sound fighter, and i believe he can achieve great things. perhaps i can see him again soon.”

about the raiden shogun

“the raiden shogun… her despicable vision hunt decree… the tenryo commission… i detest it all. to see so many people’s dreams stripped, to see the colour fade from so many precious hopes… i will see to it that this is all restored. i cannot sympathise with a god who robs her people of their dreams.”

more about kiyoharu misa i

“you’d like to know more about me? i’m flattered. i know that your journey through inazuma won’t be easy, so please don’t hesitate to drop by every once in a while. my blade never rests, after all.”

more about kiyoharu misa ii

“the carvings on my sword are most intricate. a swordsmaiden’s weapon is her will. i find myself staring at the moon night after night, and the patterns on my sword are a tribute to the power it lends me.”

more about kiyoharu misa iii

“you want to know about my title? well, moonlit swordsmaiden refers to the way i utilise my vision. the light of the moon reflects through the electro element, and i believe that through this combination i can convey the power of the resistance.”

more about kiyoharu misa iv

“i’m an only child, so the fate of the kiyoharu clan rests in my hands. traveler, i believe that through knowing you i have become a better person. i hope that you will visit inazuma once again.”

more about kiyoharu misa v

“here, this is for you. it’s a charm made from pure sea glass. the way the sun and moonlight reflects through its unique colours is a rare sight to behold. i suppose this is a thank you gift, for everything we’ve been through together.”

kiyoharu misa’s hobbies

“my hobbies? well, in the late night and early morning hours, i enjoy heading down to a secluded beach and basking in the moonlight. those hours are the perfect opportunity to practice swordsmanship, and the art of sword dancing too. besides that, i suppose i enjoy embroidery too, although i’m not particularly good at it…”

kiyoharu misa’s troubles

“i often worry about the other members of the resistance. i find myself questioning as to whether they still have their visions, or even their lives. on top of that, i hope that one day i will be reunited with my lover… i pray that he too made it out safely.”

favorite food

“my mother used to make the most takoyaki. my family weren’t so insistent on having maids running around when we could cook everything ourselves, so i would always snack on my mother’s dishes. even today, the taste of takoyaki brings back vivid memories of my mother.”

least favourite food

“honestly, i’m not much of a picky eater, but i’m not too fond of anything containing fish eggs…”

birthday

“happy birthday! it’s a special day for you today. is there anything in particular you’d like? no, don’t be silly, of course i’ll get it for you! seeing as you’ve helped me this far, it’s only right that i give something back to you! on top of that, if there’s anything you ever need at all, i’ll be sure to help you out, friend.”

feelings about ascension: intro

“my blade only grows stronger. let’s continue working hard.”

feelings about ascension: building up

“how to describe this feeling… lightweight, but more powerful. the dance will go on.”

feelings about ascension: climax

“with each passing day, my blade grows keener. the moon seems more radiant than ever before.”

feelings about ascension: conclusion

“i believe i owe you a great thanks. the moonlight that rains down on the world will forever be in your favour, traveler. both you and i will improve leaps and bounds from here on out.”

addition to party

“are we heading off?”

“alright, ready when you are.”

“it’s time, let’s go.”

elemental skill

“will of my sword!”

“shrouded in moonlight!”

(convergence) “cut them blind!”

(convergence) “beams, converge!”

elemental burst

“kiyoharu art: carver of radiance!”

“dance of death.”

“face my blade!”

fallen

“i thought… we’d meet… again…”

“friends… i’m sorry…”

“no… i wasn’t… done…”

—

talents

—

normal attack - kiyoharu sword art

perform up to 5 consecutive attacks with a sword.

charged attack: consume a set amount of stamina to unleash a more powerful attack, dealing physical dmg to enemies.

plunging attack: plunges from mid-air to strike the ground below, damaging opponents in an aoe upon impact.

elemental skill - remnants of moonlight

tap once: kiyoharu misa dashes quickly forwards, dealing electro dmg to enemies in her path. she leaves a thunderblade at her starting and end point of her dash.

tap again: the thunderblades converge with kiyoharu misa as the focal point, creating a triangular zone of convergence. enemies within the zone of convergence are dealt electro dmg and are knocked up. a mark of radiance is applied to enemies within the zone of convergence.

if the skill is not reactivated, the two thunderblades will converge in a line after 4s. marks of radiance last for 12s.

elemental burst - kiyoharu art: carver of radiance

kiyoharu misa leaps into the air, before plunging down and dealing a powerful slash to enemies, dealing massive electro dmg. for 3s after her slash, thunder strikes will crash down on enemies who are marked by mark of radiance, dealing extra electro dmg.

passive 1 - swordsmaiden’s revenge

enemies affected by a mark of radiance will take 15% more damage from kiyoharu misa’s normal and charged attacks.

passive 2 - thundering retribution

kiyoharu misa’s crit dmg is increased by 10% for 5s after a zone of convergence is activated.

natural passive - lightning clarity

all party members’ crit dmg is increased by 10% when kiyoharu misa is in the party.

—

constellations

—

constellation 1: tenacity of lightning

the duration of thunderblades on the field is increased to 6s, and the duration of marks of radiance on enemies is increased to 16s.

constellation 2: shredding thunder

enemies marked by marks of radiance have their elemental res decreased by 20%.

constellation 3: roots of kiyoharu

the level of kiyoharu art: carver of radiance is increased by 3.

constellation 4: fatal reunion

if there are more than 5 enemies within the zone of convergence cast by remnants of moonlight, the cooldown is decreased by 3s.

constellation 5: swordsmaiden’s unwavering will

the level of remnants of moonlight is increased by 3.

constellation 6:

kiyoharu art: carver of radiance deals 50% more dmg to enemies previously affected by electro.

—

appearance

—

kiyoharu misa is a young woman and is of average height, with light brown hair, tied half up in a braided bow and then tied at the very bottom. she has bangs which frame her face. her eyes are deep gray-purple, and she has a small scar across the bridge of her nose. her outfit is coordinated with white and lavender colours, and her paper umbrella is also patterned with lavender coloured lightning and flower patterns.

i’m horrible at art so here’s a fun picrew of misa …… this isn’t what she’d wear but it’s the closest thing to what i was imagining ig …… also the band aid is supposed to be her lil scar LOL

#finally dragged misa out of the drafts #zizi’s ocs

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

TUA PIRATE AU

(of the Caribbean? Sort of? I guess?)

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the books/films) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, murder, pirates and all of their violent shenanigans, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

Luther is the captain of the guard, and pirates are the bane of his existence. He hates Diego most of all, the man who’s stolen unspeakable amounts of gold from Reginald, Luther’s employer. But as annoyed he is at all of the theft, he purposefully never catches Diego, because he knows Klaus loves him. And Luther may be a man of the law, but he’s also Klaus’ beloved brother-in-spirit, even if Reginald wants them to marry each other for some idiotic reason. (Something about getting Klaus to settle down - ha, he can try.) When Klaus disappears, Luther follows him, having no connections left here - and that’s when he meets Allison. And there are copious laws against getting involved with married women and outlaws alike… so Luther starts to think that maybe bending the rules wouldn’t be so bad. (Klaus is so proud.)

Diego grew up poor, and became a pirate in his early teens when Grace took him in. When she fled the colony, Diego went with her, leaving his childhood best friend Klaus behind. He’s got his own fleet and crew now, and mostly uses his scores as excuses to flirt with Klaus, who’s still just as drawn to him after all these years and often sneaks him into his bedroom when Diego’s in town. Diego’s kept in close touch with Lila and Eudora, both of whom he grew up with once Grace took him away, and they both help him when it comes time for him to crash Klaus’ wedding to Luther (fuck you dude) and steal Klaus away for a life at sea. (Klaus absolutely LOVES this. They kiss a lot. They swing from ropes. Klaus is screaming at all the guards as Diego carries him away bridal-style (ha, I’m so funny). It is delightful.) (His ship is a terror they call The Kraken. Ha, get it? Get it - because Diego’s name - and the monster from legend - okay yeah I’ll shut up now.)

Allison is a badass goddess, covered in colorful tattoos with gold in her hair. She was a prostitute for awhile, stealing a bunch along the way, but one day one of the pirate captains who approached her tried to take more than he paid for. She broke both his hands and killed him in cold blood, then defeated his entire crew in a sword fight single-handedly, earning their respect. She now rides with that same crew as their captain, in one of those off-the-shoulder poet-blouse-corset dresses and high brown boots. Ray is a leutinant who’s been chasing her for years, the two of them flirting back and forth forever… but he’ll never catch her. It’s bad form to arrest your wife.

Klaus is the governor’s bastard son, a totally wild spirit who wears dresses all the time, drinks his weight at parties, and has slept with half the town (marriage is not a problem for him, this is Klaus, we all know he is very down for threesomes). He’s stolen half of Reginald’s shit for Diego over the years, and has been sneaking off to see him just as long, completely in love with his pirate king. Though he’s loved others before - Dave, for example, a soldier whose death broke Klaus into give in to Reginald’s plan to marry him off to Luther (who Klaus loves, just, Not Like That™). The day Diego kidnaps him from his own wedding is the best fucking day of his life - okay, no it wasn’t. That was second best. The best day of his life was the day he and Diego watched Diego’s ship and treasure burn and sink into the sea, and Klaus asked him if he was alright, and Diego just shrugged. Said, You’re the only treasure I need, and kissed him like the world was ending. Yeah. That was the best day of his life, because Diego is the best anything in his life.

Five was a pirate queen until he transitioned a few years ago, though only by word of mouth. No one’s ever seen him. Anyone who works for him doesn’t make it a month outside of the job, usually by his own hands, but people keep coming because nobody knows who he is. He sails alone, though he offers Klaus refuge on his boat for a few days under the moniker Aidan, because he knows Diego loves him, and Five actually respects Diego (if only because he respects Lila who he only respects because he respects Eudora). He hates the Handler for leaving him stranded on an island when he was just a child, an unwanted product of her crew’s hard partying, and has vowed to kill her one day for leaving him alone for so long, ageless in misery. He talks to the mermaid on the front of his ship named Dolores and kills without mercy, and when he finally reveals himself as this skinny pale thirteen-year-old with the grandpa haircut, he revels in the looks on his family’s faces as they try to rebuild their blown brain circuits.

Ben loves Klaus more than life itself, which is, in hindsight, probably why he’s dead. Oh who is he kidding, it’s definitely why he’s dead. Klaus is sort of, kind of, maybe, just a little bit a witch, and they hang witches where they’re from. So when they needed someone to blame for the odd happenings Klaus had caused recently, Ben had taken the blame and worn the noose proudly. Klaus still talks to him all the time, his ghost anyway, and it’s fine - but Klaus lives on the sea now, with Diego, and Ben gets seasick like all the time. (And then he steals Davy Jones’ heart and gets trapped as a tentacle monster, which is honestly not that bad. It helps him scare birds, and Ben likes scaring birds.)

Vanya works as the blacksmith’s apprentice, sad and lonely. She’s been having an affair with the duchess Sissy for years, also working as her maid and a nanny for her son Harlan when asked, but mostly she’s alone, with no one else to care for in the world. (And that creep officer Leonard keeps asking her to marry him, which, just. Ew.) When Five shows up, his hands in his pockets, and offers her a way out, well - what else could she possibly do?

Lila is a badass pirate princess who don’t take no shit from anybody. She wears bright pink ballgowns while skewering people like kabobs, which is funny because she’s a well-known maneater. Literally. (Yes I included a Hannibal character in here because it’s my AU and I can do whatever the fuck I want.) She fell in love with Eudora, and thought she had corrupted the kind sergeant until she found out Eudora had been an undercover pirate the whole time, helping Diego smuggle Reginald’s gold and goods in and out of port. (That’s hot as fucking hell, she blurts when she realizes. Fuck, I’m gonna marry this woman.) She has a serious rum problem she will not be addressing and a collection of pet parrots that will forever prevent her and Ben from becoming friends. When she and Eudora get married, it’s in the middle of the pouring rain while thunder and lightning and gunshots crack around them and they’re killing people and shooting canons left and right (because I may not have shipped Will and Elizabeth but by god if their wedding wasn’t the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen). Now if only she could find the king of the pirates… she’s been hunting Five for years, hoping to prove herself to him, but he just… won’t show up.

Eudora is the sergeant in Reginald’s legions, and has been using her position to help Diego pirate goods since before he even left with Grace. She makes a lot of deals with him, having him carry her cargo and speak with her connections in exchange for her keeping an eye on Klaus for him, which to be honest they both know she’d do anyway. She helped Diego get to Klaus’ wedding and kidnap him, confusing the soldiers in pursuit of the bride, and follows them off to sea, finally home. She feels she owes an eternal debt to Klaus for not being able to save Ben from execution, though she tried, almost desperately. She flirts with Lila all the damn time, and believes in magic, wanting to travel the world looking for it. Most importantly, you should know that she will and has killed for a cheeseburger. (I know they weren’t invented yet shut up.)

Reginald is the governor of the colony, and Klaus’ father. He’s an asshole, one who constantly hunts the pirates because his wife Grace left him to be one. He only has one eye because Grace cut the other out viciously in their last fight, and he’s an abusive piece of shit who lives to terrorize and tax people. Pogo is his assistant / advisor / let-me-stand-here-and-give-you-good-advice-that-we-all-know-you’ll-ignore person. Reginald refuses to die before he catches Grace and sees her hanging in the square - something that seems more and more likely by the day. (HA, Grace says. He wishes.)

Grace is the original pirate queen, and lives in legend. She faked her death after living a double life for years, leaving Reginald and taking her son Diego with her. She knows Reginald doesn’t believe in her death, because she cut his eye out and nearly killed him right before she left, but everyone else believes it. She jumped from the bell tower and Klaus himself “went mad with grief” at the sight of her body, though he of course knows she’s alive and keeps up the story for her benefit. She injured Reginald so severely because he killed Ben, knowing that he wasn’t guilty, and that the witch in question had done nothing wrong anyway. She is known to be fiercely protective of her children, and kind in nature despite her ability to kill you using a historic number of methods. Her crew is made up of refugees who she offered shelter and a better life in exchange for their servitude, including Five, for awhile, who was running a scam. She knows who he is, and remembers his face well - but she keeps it to herself. Though she could match him in a fight easily, she has no interest in battling the boy she has grown to love as a son. (She’s also the one who officiates Diego and Klaus’ wedding, but that’s unrelated.)

The Handler is another pirate queen, and Grace’s greatest rival. She has two pistols at her waist and is not afraid to use them, having such deadly aim that she’s never missed a target - except Diego, which she hates him for. Also for encouraging her first mate and daughter Lila to mutiny, but that’s a whole other can of worms. Her ship is followed by an entire shiver of sharks, who let her use them like water skis whenever she wants. She abandoned Five on an island when he was born into her crew, as she hates children with a burning passion. (There are rumors she eats little boys’ bones. They have yet to be disproven.) Hazel is her snivelling first mate and Cha-Cha is her willing servant and second captain, a master at the wheel and with a sword. Agnes is an old psychic (ha, she’s faking it. She’s got no fuckin’ clue where Five is and will continue to lie whenever asked) she keeps in the brig after kidnapping her years ago, hoping to get a read on Five, who the Handler hates for constantly stealing her goods before they even make it to port. (She has no idea he’s the same boy she left on that island all those years ago - he’s certainly not the only child she’s done that to. But countless are out for her blood… almost every person Grace has rescued was left to die on an island by the Handler.) She eventually dies at Klaus’ hand, who plunges a sword through her heart in defense of his family, who she made the fatal mistake of coming after. (It happened in the same rainy battle where Lila and Eudora were married. He was wearing a yellow ballgown.)

Also Jack Sparrow is super great friends with Lila and he’s married to Will Turner who’s honestly so exhausted but gets along great with Ben and Elizabeth is their ace-aro friend who is a goddamn queen and who Diego has a lowkey crush on and Klaus can geek out with for hours. It’s awesome.

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nasir-simp · 4 years

Text

Azula’s Trauma

Okay, so I know that she was born psychotic (says so in the comics) but she still went through a lot of trauma that made it worse. So here’s me listing the reasons why she went off the rails.

Azula’s odds were never in her favor since she was born. She loved fire bending as a kid and would rather use a sword than play with a doll. It’s very to understand what she’s thinking and her emotions if you just payed attention. In some cases you could say she that she’s more on one side of the spectrum than others. She’s not very empathetic to begin with but she never knew better. No one really taught her how or that what she was doing was wrong.

1. She was already at a disadvantage seeing as Zuko’s older than her. That too, she was also a girl. But doors opened for her when Ozai realized how gifted of a fire bender she was. Also remember, Zuko didn’t know that he was born with the gift of fire bending.

This was the beginning of his envy towards Azula. She got his father’s love so easily while he had to try so hard to even get a shred of his recognition. This caused him to start distancing himself from Azula. Being Ozai’s prodigy wasn’t easy on her. Her mother probably thought of her as a monster to some extent. (Yes she loved her but that thought was always at the back of her mind.)

It also didn’t help that whenever Zuko cried her mother automatically assumed that Azula had something to do with it. Her mother should understand that it’s normal for siblings to make the other cry even if it’s their fault. It’s just normal sibling rivalry. This probably led to Azula resenting her own mother. Even with this newfound resentment towards her, she was still a child that wished for her mother’s love. Or for her mother to even glance at her the way she does Zuko. Because of this she tried to find parental love another way, through Ozai.

2. Being brought up by Ozai is much different than being raised by Ursa. He probably thought Azula battle strategies instead of reading bedtime stories. He probably taught her that mercy was for the weak, an example of that would be Iroh. Before she even met him, she already had a bad impression of him. The impression only went downhill when he sent her and Zuko gifts. Zuko got a blade while she got a doll.

Ozai must have told Iroh something about her, because if he knew her he would have known that would want a blade as well. It would make more sense for Azula to receive the blade, the girl who trains 24/7, rather than the boy who feeds turtle ducks in his free time instead of practicing. It was at the moment that Azula thought that no one really understood her but her dad, Ozai. But even he didn’t understand her, he just only saw of her as a child soldier.

All he ever id was encourage her ruthlessness towards other and to disconnect from other’s emotions to avoid being ‘weak’. It must of felt so good to finally be favored over Zuko. Ozai favored her while Iroh and Ursa favored him. The maids and servants probably had more of a liking towards Zuko since she never treated them as well as Zuko. But REMEMBER, Ozai taught her that kindness was a weakness not a virtue. Azula got hooked on the approval that comes with impressing Ozai which caused her to train harder and be better than Zuko.

This isn't how a child should be raised though, they should know the they are loved no matter how talented or talentless they are. You have to remember, she is still a child!

3. But, she had two friends that helped her gain the normalcy of childhood, Mai and Ty Lee. They were her best friends, she felt as if she could genuinely enjoy life instead of being trained like a soldier that's going to be shipped off for war. When Mai had a crush on Zuko all of Azula's insecurities probably entered her again. Afraid that Mai would soon favor him more and soon only hang out with him. The only thing that helped her feel grounded was the fact that Mai was shy and that it was highly unlikely that she would ever act on those feelings. She would still be on her side like always, or so she thought.

4. Now we'll talk about the Agni kai between Zuko and her father. Outwardly she seemed happy that Zuko was going to be banished and let's be honest, she probably was. But there's a chance that she knew he was still her brother and hoped that he wouldn't kneel in front of Ozai knowing that would just make him an embarrassment. With Zuko kneeling, she lost all of the little respect that she had for him because you're not supposed to show mercy to your opponents no matter what. Whomever it may be. Even with this lost of respect she must have felt happy knowing that with his banishment, there would be no competition for Ozai's attention. And with him, the uncle who knew nothing about her also left.

The years following Zuko's abandonment led Azula to perfect her fire bending and become a master. That too, also gaining a neverbefore seen fire color, blue. There's not much to say about this time since we don't know that much. Continuing on, when Zuko came back and joined the trio including Mai and Ty Lee, she probably felt the happiest she's ever been in a very long time. When it came down to the decision between Azula or her uncle, Azula must have felt fantastic to have someone favor her, even if it was just Zuko. To be someone's first choice, the words are indescribable.

During the beach episode we see a new side of Azula. We see her realize how different she is from everyone else. She desperately tries to fit in but it wasn't what she was trained to do. she must have been isolated from kids her own age besides Ty Lee and Mai during her childhood with Ozai. She was trained to conquer cities like Ba Sing Se, capture the avatar, be a master fire bender. This is what's natural for her, not making some boy like her. During the fire pit scene we see Azula open up towards the group saying how her mother thought of her as a monster. They all reacted quite calmly, not really jumping in with words of encouragement to make her feel better. Subconsiously, Azula must have known her friends shared the same thoughts as her mother. But she never really thought they would leave her seeing as they were friends, right? This scene is also where we see Azula show genuine emotion other than ruthlessness and it's directed towards Ty Lee. Ty Lee told the group that she always felt shadowed by her 6 other sisters. You could see the emotion flash through Azula's face. Azula related to Ty Lee on an emotional level because she went through the same thing, but instead it was with Zuko.

5. During the prison break when Azula was trying to stop the avatar from escaping, it probably broke her heart to see Zuko with him. Helping the avatar to escape goes against everything she was taught. But that wasn't what broke her, it was Mai betraying her. Sure she knew that they finally got together after Mai harboring the crush on him for years but she always thought that Mai would stick with her. She thought that Mai liked her and actually thought of her as a friends instead of the monster that everyone paints her to be.

6. The final crack on her heart though, was Ty Lee. When Ty Lee chi blocked her to let Mai escape, it broke her. Her eyes of pain were evident as she fell. Seeing the two people she trusted most on the other side when she thought they would be beside hers. Ty Lee was the only person who she never had a doubt on. It wasn't even a doubt that Ty Lee's loyalty could even be wavered. She trusted Ty Lee with her life. With the treachery of Ty Lee, Azula knew she was alone in the world. This final betrayal is what caused Azula's mask to crack. That crack let her insanity finally shine through.

7.While training with Lo and Li the only feedback she received from them was that she had a hair out of place. That hair symbolizes her mental health. Throughout the show her hair gradually becomes messier and messier. The messier it is, the more cracked her facade of well being is. The last time we see her on the show is during her Agni kai with Zuko. This is where her hair is the most messy. To quote Remus Lupin,"Finally the flesh reflects the madness within."

8. Even at Azula's worst she still held her own at the Agni kai during Zuko's best. But when she knew she was going to loose, she shot lightning at Katara with Zuko getting in the way just in time but rendering him useless. Once Katara bested Azula by freezing her in water to wrap chains around her arms, we hear Azula schema in defeat. The best way to describe it would be to call it a panic attack. Watching Azula breakdown hurts so much because it's so realistic. Her screams are heart wrenching and it hurts knowing what she went through. And she's only 14, a child! She's just a kid, a kid who went through too much that no one should ever experience. She went through too much for her to ever have hope. She went through too much to ever have the odds in her favor.

To conclude, Azula is a child who's broken on the inside and out. She's never stood a chance. She may have been born lucky but she wishes that she was never born.

#azula #ozai is an asshole #zuko #azula deserved better #uncle iroh #mai #ty lee #betreyal #trauma

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years

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A Warm Rain (Shingen Takeda x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Shingen Takeda x Reader

Prompt: Rain

Warning: Self-indulgent angst

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 2,214

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Sengoku or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost or reblog this on any other website.

A thundering boom shook the walls, nearly drowning out the sound of your cries from beyond the sliding doors he’d been forced to wait outside of. Exhaling a slow breath, Shingen closed his eyes against the tears blurring his vision, a steady stream of silent prayers escaping slightly parted lips as he curled in on himself. Yukimura stood nearby, tapping his foot without a word. The older man could tell he wanted to speak and was grateful that he didn’t. In all his years of fighting, he had never been so terrified before, and all he wanted to do was shut down if he couldn’t do anything to bring an end to your suffering.

He just felt so useless.

Had it been days or hours? Shingen couldn’t tell when each pained scream wrenched at his heart and made him tremble. He had already left bloody crescents in his calloused palms from how hard he’d been clenching his fists, yet he knew the agony he was feeling was nothing compared to what you were going through.

The rain had started last night, the beginning of what promised to be a serious summer storm making its way across Kai, and had continued through the night, gaining intensity. Just that morning - or was it yesterday morning? - Shingen had been sitting with you, watching it drench the garden and the rest of the castle from your shared room. He’d held you safe and sound, sitting between his legs with his arms wrapped around you and your hands covering his as they rested on your pregnant belly.

You had mentioned you’d been feeling pangs when you woke up that morning, but had dismissed them as false contractions. They had occurred a few times in the past few weeks as your due date loomed closer, but you were still a good month away from giving birth. You didn’t seem overly concerned so Shingen decided to trust you on it, but he was still a little concerned, so he insisted you let him pamper you, massaging your sore body from time to time.

Since you had found out you were pregnant, the love and affection he liked to shower you with had increased exponentially. Every spare moment he had was spent with you, to the point that Yukimura liked to grumble that he was attached to you at the hip. You could barely walk a few steps without Shingen at your heels, asking where you were going, if you wanted anything, if you were feeling okay. It annoyed you sometimes when you were trying to sew in peace, but you couldn’t deny him when he was practically buzzing with joy.

“My goddess is pregnant with my child.” Every time he pressed his ear to your growing belly, listening to the sounds of his child moving within, a gentle smile would spread across his handsome face, and he would look up at you with so much love it made your heart swell for the man you’d fallen in love with, for the life you’d created together. “I won’t jinx it by wondering if I deserve to be this happy.”

Neither of you could wait to meet the child that had been born of your love, a little Takeda prince or princess to love and fawn over and fill Tsutsujigasaki Castle with the sound of little pounding feet. Shingen may have been more excited than you actually. He’d been waiting for a family for so long and now he only had to wait a month longer until his angel added another blessing to the list.

That morning he was holding you as he usually did when your back was aching or your feet hurt, letting you lean into his chest as his hands rubbed gentle circles into your belly and he pressed kisses into your hair. Every time the baby kicked, he would smile and tap back, chuckling into your neck. “Restless today, huh?”

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, leaning your head back against his shoulder and exposing your neck to him for kissing. “It feels like they’re trying to fight their way out. Definitely a warlord’s kid.”

Laughing, he caressed your stomach soothingly, murmuring, “Calm down for Mama, huh? There’ll be plenty of fighting later when Kenshin decides you're old enough to hold a sword.”

You grimaced and he laughed some more. Of course, you knew he was kidding. There was no way Shingen wasn’t going to let the battle-obsessed war god anywhere near his child for a long time. The thought of Kenshin’s bloodlust rubbing off on his precious baby…

Suddenly, you gasped and he flew into serious mode, his grip on you tightening protectively. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Shingen, I - my water broke!” Narrowed gaze snapping to your stomach, he felt you jerk in his arms, a pained yelp escaping your lips. “The baby’s coming!”

He didn’t waste a second, even though he was panicking inside. Wasn’t it too early? There was still a good month left before the birth was supposed to take place. Had something suddenly gone wrong? ‘God, please no.’

Lifting you in his arms, he took you back inside and settled you onto the futon, pressing a quick kiss to your head before unwinding your fingers from his and running into the hallway. His booming voice filled the hall, rising above the pounding rain and thunder, and soon enough your shared room was filled with other people, Yukimura trying to pull him out even as Shingen remained rooted at your side, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from your forehead and letting you strangle his hand.

“Shingen-!” you gasped, eyes wide. You knew it was too early and you were scared, scared for your life and the life of your child.

It took every bit of his rapidly fraying composure not to give you the same terrified look in return, pressing his lips hard against your temple instead. It was a wonder he was able to keep his voice steady as he said, “You’re amazing, my love. You can do this. You're stronger than anyone I know. It’s going to be okay. You and the baby are going to be okay.”

“Lord Shingen, we can’t stay in here!” Yukimura insisted, tugging harder. The maids and midwife echoed him, but he barely heard, feeling his heart throb painfully as another contraction wracked your pained form.

“I love you,” he managed before finally letting himself be pulled away, his eyes never leaving you until the sliding door slammed into place before him. It echoed the sound of his heart snapping into pieces, and a sudden flash of lightning made him jump.

Thus began what felt like the longest wait of his life, the only news to go off of the sound of your cries. He ached to be in there with you, holding your hand and supporting you through the pain, but he didn’t want to get in the way, especially if something really was wrong.

Yukimura attempted to talk to him a couple of times as Shingen paced back and forth, but stopped when his lord crumpled to the floor, his strength leaving him as he trembled and prayed to whatever gods were listening.

He’d been sitting there for hours now, his pain numbing to a blinding ache as the seconds, minutes, hours crept by, each cry chipping away at him in a way he hadn’t known was possible. It was fear and pain and despair sharpened to knife-point and steadily being used to stab away at his hope. The storm made it worse, lightning and thunder adding an ominous sense to his terror and bringing out his worst fantasies. Something was wrong. It must be. It was taking too long, and there was no way he was just going to sit here and let you suffer alone.

He stood with a snarl and Yukimura startled, reaching for him as he moved to tear open the screen doors.

“Lord Shingen, no!” The other man wrapped his arms around his lord’s waist who rounded on him with a glare.

“Something’s wrong, Yuki. Don’t you dare stop me.”

“I’m worried too!” he tried to insist, grip tight around his lord’s wrist. “(Y/n)’s my friend! She’s like a sister to me!”

“And she’s my wife!” he growled, the rumble of thunder answering as he turned to the door again. “Giving birth to our child! I can’t sit here anymore!”

“I understand, but please wait a little longer!”

“For her to-?!” he cut off abruptly. He couldn’t say the word, he couldn’t even think it. You couldn’t! Not you! Instead, he ripped his hand out of Yukimura’s grip and reached for the door again.

A cry interrupted him before he could open it, however, making him freeze. It wasn’t a cry from you, tiny and new instead of the pained groans he’d been listening to for hours. His fingers closed on the door before he fully realized it, yanking it back with a resounding slam.

Shingen was so scared of what he might find, he practically collapsed in relief when his gaze landed on you. You were a mess, covered in blood and sweat, but you were alive, blessedly, wonderfully alive.

He was at your side in a split second, scooping your exhausted body into his arms and cradling you against him. For the first time in hours, he felt safe, holding you safe and sound where you belonged.

“Sorry. Did I scare you?” you panted, a breathless chuckle wracking your limp form.

He tried to laugh back, but a choked sob came out instead. The tears he’d been trying to hold back for hours suddenly rushed forth, streaming down his face as he pressed it into your hair, shoulders shaking. Shingen was so grateful that you were still alive, he couldn’t think of anything to say. All he could do was hold you.

“Would you like to meet your daughter?” you murmured softly, reaching up to stroke his hair.

His watery eyes shot open, his mouth opening and closing before he regained his voice. “A daughter? We have a daughter?”

You were so tired and weak, but there was a beautiful sparkle in your eyes, a smile on your lips as your gaze shifted away from him and to an approaching nursemaid. He looked as well, and more emotion and anticipation rose in his throat as his eyes fell on the squirming bundle in the other woman’s arms. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as your outstretched arms embraced the bundle, laying it against your chest as he finally beheld his child’s face.

She had been crying before, but she quieted now, nestled against the familiar warmth of her mother. Shingen could see that she had inherited his coloring, maroon fuzz covering her head and large grey eyes blinking up at him, but he recognized your nose and jawline. He took a shuddering breath and reached out, smiling through his happy tears as a tiny hand wrapped around his finger.

“You couldn't wait another month, huh?” he chuckled, to which she just blinked at him, cooing as she wiggled. “Is she healthy?”

“Yep,” you replied, stroking your thumb across her head. Looking up at him, you asked, “Do you want to hold her?”

He blinked owlishly at you and nodded, his heart jumping in his chest. Fussing at being handed away from you, she quieted as soon as Shingen had her steady. She looked so tiny in his large hands, little limbs kicking in her swadlings, and he could feel her heartbeat, fluttering like a bird. His tears dripped down his face onto her as his heart swelled in his chest, love for his family drowning the last of his fear.

Holding the new Takeda princess in one arm and his goddess of a wife in the other, he pressed his lips to your hair. “Thank you.”

Leaning up, you kissed his cheek in answer before settling back against him, closing your eyes as 20 hours of labor finally got to you. You felt yourself being laid back onto the futon, and heard the maids ushering your husband and child out again to clean you up before settling to sleep, a smile on your face.

At the same time, Shingen was still gazing down at the baby in wonder, watching her take in the world around her with pride. There was so much more inside him now, the final pieces falling into place. She’d broken his heart coming into the world, but put it back together just as easily. How amazing was that?

Sitting down, he smiled as the tiny life in his arms yawned and closed her eyes, tucked safely against his chest. Looking up, he noticed the rain had started to let up, bits of blue sky peeking through the grey. As he watched, a rainbow flared to life, making his smile grow even wider as he reached out to catch the last few raindrops in his hand.

This day could have gone so much worse. The rain could have been so cold, drenching him as he mourned the loss of what heaven had so graciously given him, but it felt warm instead, life-giving. The future he dreamed of remained perfectly intact, his heart blissfully full.

#ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen sengoku shingen #ikesen shingen #angst #fluff #cybird #otome #ikemen x reader #ikemen sengoku x reader #otome x reader #a warm rain (shingen takeda x reader)#lordsister

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herenortherenearnorfar · 4 years

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Final graduation ficlet (which got quite long). A-Qing lives (sort of) and channels ghosts while living out her fashionista dreams. Jiang Cheng is identifiable due to his clothing choices. Light violence and zombies.

The best thing about living in Koi Tower is the clothing. Silk that runs like water between her hands, brocade heavy with embroidery, jewelry that chimes and sings as she moves. She doesn’t feel heat or cold, can’t sense gentle changes in pressure or even most pain. There’s still enough perception in her fingers to map out the bamboo grove and song birds stitched on her favorite dress and feel the whorls of gold and inset jade on her new bracelet.

After the first impolite insinuation about their friendship Jin Ling stopped buying her gifts more excessive than those he gave to the rest of his friends. Ouyang Zizhen, who can describe the grandeur of Lanling’s markets so clearly she can see the hawkers and jewel-bright fancies in her mind’s eye, has been thoroughly scolded by his father on her behalf so many times that they’ve regretfully halted their shopping trips.

Wei Wuxian makes up for it. He doesn’t have money of his own, but his husband is rich and lets him do whatever he wants, and what he wants is to spoil A-Qing whenever he’s in town.

He calls her cousin (biao zhi mei, an affection which makes several martial relationships familial and she thinks retroactively enforces at least two adoptions) and takes her places the boys are too scared to go. Good company though they usually are, they’re rich kids to the core. The streets A-Qing grew up on, back alleys and muddy side streets, are too lowly for little princes. They aren’t like Wei-qianbei, who can banter with street walkers and haggle with counterfeiters. His company is a welcome escape from the pompous brats in Koi Tower. Together with Wen Ning they walk the streets, wearing high collars and low hats for disguise. They sniff about the food vendors until oil and salt fill A-Qing’s throat and coat the remnants of her tongue. Wei Wuxian buys her trinkets, little squares of silk and jangling bracelets of gilt and enamel, louder and more delightful than the demure ostentation of the Jin. When she was young and dreamed of being rich she wanted bracelets up to her elbows, not “restraint” or “taste”.

At the end of every outing Wei Wuxian hands her a little parcel. “From your shushu by the water” he says, as if she has any idea who that is. They’re nice gifts through. Scarves and robes in fine cotton and brocade. There’s stitched florals and ribbons. She makes Jin Ling describe them to her and he reluctantly tells her about violet and turquoise geometric patterns, waxed pale into fabric. There’s one overrobe she especially likes— dark blue, Jin Ling says, with a cracking pattern like mud under the sun, like lightning, like the death lines on her own skin. She can feel the stares on her when she wears it.

The old men certainly stare when she slams open the door and begins tapping her way into the conference room, though she can’t tell whether it’s the crackling midnight robe, the green jade pins in her hair, or the fact that she’s here at all that has them so startled. That’ll teach them to try to distract her with poetry and fancies. As soon as the fine cultivator ladies, who normally scorn Koi Tower’s corpse, swept her away, she knew something was wrong.

It’s bold of them to try to ambush Jin Ling in his own home. They’re going to regret it.

“Xiao-guniang,” Jin Ling says, sounding relieved. A servant takes her arm and guides her over to the table, and A-Qing doesn’t snap at them. She’s learned to pick her battles. “I was just about to send for you. These kind elders have quite the suggestion for me and I wanted your input on it.”

“Is this really the place for a young... lady?” come the protestation.

“My shibo thinks highly of her judgement.” Jin Ling says, leaving everyone to put together in their own heads who his shibo is.

That stirs up whispers. It always does. A Sect Leader, almost grown, consulting her? A corpse under the Yiling Patriarch’s protection, a barely civilized street rat. They might have given her Xiao Xingchen’s name (it still hurts to hear it spoken, still scrapes every time someone calls her Xiao Qing, though even Song-daozhang insists he would have wanted her to have it) and a backstory worthy of tears (’she survived Xue Yang!’ Ouyang Zizhen would cry, passionate and sweet, and Jingyi would add a story of her bravery so embroidered it was unrecognizable) but she’s still a parentless urchin. A girl. A dead thing. There are a dozen reasons she shouldn’t be here.

Jin Ling has the full support of the Jiang and the Lan behind him though, and Nie-zongzhu always compliments her accessories. None of the other, weaker sects can do a thing about it. Politics is a lot like living on the street; the big people make the rules and everyone else puts up with it. The old coots make some noises about propriety, forcing chaperones and moderating the affection A-Qing and her friends can show each other in public, but they can’t get rid of her or mitigate her influence on their young ruler.

At best they can insinuate, and since Jin Ling started making eyes at the visiting cultivator from Dali those insinuations have had increasingly little weight.

What are their words? A-Qing signs, even though she knows perfectly well why they’re ganging up on Jin Ling in a side room. She won it out of Duanmu-zongzhu’s wife, who was sent to distract her. It’s amazing what people will say in the presence of a mute girl-- they think she’s deaf too and talk quite freely. You would think they’d be more careful, since she is, by their own accusation, a conniving abomination, but for all their fear they never quite take her seriously.

“They had some suggestions about the salt trade.” Jin Ling is doing an admirable job of playing the mature diplomat. “Surely they can explain it better themselves.”

“We merely wished--” one of them starts stammering, and another one takes over. “We thought to inform Jin-zongzhu of the opportunity to centralize control of the salt market. The Jin, Qin, and Lan together hold most of the salt marshes, and Jin-zongzhu’s great-aunt ruling in Meishan mean he would be able to get the western brine wells to cooperate with a taxation pact. It would be very beneficial to both the sects and the merchants!”

“They want to put limits on who can buy and sell salt, and they’re willing to levy a tax to make it worth our while.” She can practically hear Jin Ling’s posture, arms crossed, defensive. “Xiao-guniang, I don’t suppose you have any thoughts on that?”

I’ve walked in salt villages, A-Qing replied, leaning her cane against the table so her hands can move furiously fast. It’s not a good life. Brine and heat. If they could only sell to a few merchants they would be underpaid. No choices.

(A maid helpfully murmurs a translation of her words to the rest of the room. Few people have bothered to learn the language she now uses, the one she pieced together with the help of her friends.)

Jin Ling hums. “That makes sense.”

“There’s no reason to hesitate on the behalf of some peasants,” a very bold voice complains. “Their state won’t be improved by empty sympathy.”

“They’re just boilers, of no concern to you Jin-zongzhu. We treat them well.”

Oh. Oh.

She was going to hold back, for Jin Ling’s sake, but now she’s angry. Who of you is Hu Anshi? she demands, mouthing out the sounds of the name and punctuating it with the bracketed meaning (beard, safe, stone) over and over until it’s duly translated.

Reluctantly, one of the many voices in front of her says, “I am, xiaojie.”

Even with her ever sharpening sense (honed by cultivation that she came into late and kicking) it’s hard to differentiate him from the rest of the horde of weakly pulsing qi before her. They all have ghosts attached to them, hovering resentment like a cloud about their heads. Rich men attract desperate hatred better than anyone else. But she thinks she can single out one fuzzy figure with a particularly heavy load of sins and a familiar tinged energy over his shoulder,

A-Qing takes up her bamboo cane and strikes it once on the ground. I talked to your ghosts, she signs with her free hand. They had a lot to say.

That silences them.

Jin Ling inhales sharply and moves closer to her side, hand grazing her sleeve in support. When she shakes her head he withdraws, leaving her alone on in the cool air of the Koi Tower, shivering in her fine cotton and silk. Shivering because she’s letting the change come over her, letting the whispering, angry ghosts attached to Hu Anshi’s back have their say.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when she took up this route of cultivation. Mediumship is... frowned upon by the sort of people who bear swords and seek immortality. The common people like it though and before she knew Xiao Xingchen, A-Qing made the acquaintance of a number of temple diviners and spirit writers. Some of them even offered her apprenticeships-- blind girls made for good optics. Spirit specialists willing to take on a pickpocket without the slightest inclination towards ghosts were unfortunately untrustworthy by definition. She never took them up on the offers.

Then she died and, like many of the restless dead, needed a way to communicate. Lan Sizhui played her Inquiry a thousand times in those first weeks, to ask her if she was comfortable, to field questions from the other giggling Lans. Eventually A-Qing memorized the song and began to play it on her own, tapping it out with bamboo against earth and fingers against wood. The spirit language, limited in form and structure, was easy to pick up and didn’t need a tongue or eyes.

When you played Inquiry, ghosts answered. A-Qing didn’t mention the questions at first, just did her clumsy best to give offerings to those whose names she learned, to give justice to those small inequalities her late night listening uncovered.

Wei-qianbei, who had what he called a “vested interest” in her wellbeing, learned about it eventually. He was the one who found her in Caiyi town (hidden from Lan and Jin elders alike while some ridiculous politics happened) fighting off possession by the little girl who’d been murdered two doors down a year ago. He was the one who helped her curse the wrongdoer, soothe the restless soul, and settle back into her own cold skin. After that he taught her Inquiry, and how to use the meditations Xiao Xingchen had happily guided her through to solidify her presence and strengthen her energy output. If she was going to get possessed, he suggested, she should be purposeful about it.

He didn’t teach her how to use her corpse strength to drag evildoers into the light. It came naturally enough and only needed a few suggestions from Wen-qianbei and Song-daozhang.

After that things had sort of... spiralled. By the time she went to join Jin Ling, then Jin-zongzhu, in Lanling a few months later, A-Qing had found herself an avatar of vengeance for any number of unquiet spirits. The living consulted her too, when there was bad luck or poltergeists, hauntings or incomplete burials.

As it happened, the highest halls of cultivation have hungry ghosts in need of justice too.

She lived in the north, in a village with no name. A-Qing says as icy incorporeal fingers close around her neck. They were poor and made money by selling salt, because one woman could bring up enough brine in a day to provide a whole family with salt for a year. And it paid. Until one day the merchants came to town with you at their head.

You have to give Zu’er, the maid who’s translating, credit. Even though the hand language drops lots of in-between words by necessity and requires creative substitutions-- earth for salt, sky for day-- she always picks up on A-Qing’s meaning. And she doesn’t flinch as smoke, hot and roiling, begins to peel off A-Qing, which speaks to her nerve if nothing else.

A-Qing taps her staff again and begins drumming out the song of opening, of offering.

Under your guidance they wouldn’t pay them enough to buy firewood from the inland where trees grew, or rice from the flood plains that weren’t salted beyond survival. Salt worth a fortune sold for scraps.

So they starved. Working, salt crusted, they hungered and hated you.

Footsteps echo on the cold marble floor.

“Bar the door,” Jin Ling says next to her, mild and spiteful. Whatever spirit he channels in clan politics, it’s a vicious one. “I think everyone should hear this.”

So a woman took salt on her back and went to sell it someplace else. And who did she meet on the road but the merchants? Do you remember what you did?

“She’s a witch and a liar,” someone, maybe even Hu Anshi claims. A-Qing is too deep in to care. The ghost, who came to her instantly when she played Inquiry this afternoon, looking for answers about this purported plot to head a monopoly, is particularly insistent and clever. She’s been following Hu Anshi for a long time, too weak to strike, too smart to get caught by protective charms and spirit dispelling talismans.

Now she finally has a chance to speak, in a sense of the word.

There is a complication to channeling without a tongue or eyes. She can get around just fine in this body of hers but spirits are rather less experienced. Without Sizhui or another Lan expert most can’t make their wishes known. So A-Qing has to get creative.

As much as she hates to admit it, she knows who she learned this mean showsmanship from. Three years with Xue Yang teaches you a lot about drama.

Cane held out like a divining sword, she advances, letting the spirit half sunk in her flesh and a faint memory of the room’s layout guide her around the table towards the bundle of quaking men. Like cowards, they scatter before her, not even trying to fight back (just as well; she can’t be killed but a sword in the stomach doesn’t make anyone happy). The ghost over her shoulder knows which target she wants to pick and swings about as frightened bodies swirl around her. Hu Anshi might be able to dodge but he can’t hide, soon she has him cornered.

His friends abandon him quickly, fleeing to the edges of the room as she advances. When her bamboo strikes his shaking legs, she gives in and lets the ghost have its way.

The problem with possession is that you have very little control. Locked away in the cool dark of her own flesh, A-Qing can’t even see what’s happening. Jin Ling is there, though, with his Clarity Bell, so she’s comfortable sitting back.

She gave the ghost pretty clear directions; no permanent damage, show how you died. At worst she’ll choke him for a bit before Jin Ling snaps her out of it.

For the sake of her friend, A-Qing tries to be subtle about her skills. Jin Ling helped her form her sign language, stuck with her even in the earliest days when the other frightened juniors were suggesting they report her to the Chief Cultivator, sent her long letters that Lan Jingyi would sprint down from Gusu to read out loud to her. He brought her here, gave her pretty dresses, listened when she talked about hungry children and towns that cultivators never visit. Listened when she talked about frightened female ghosts, begging for their lives, and murdered servants who have never gotten justice. Even his dog has been kind to her, has guided her through gardens and chased away bullies while Jin Ling sat in stuffy rooms doing grownup work. In deference to his family and responsibilities she doesn’t swear even when people act like bastards, she doesn’t run, she doesn’t summon evil spirits indoors without cause.

Sometimes she wonders how long their friendship (bound by oaths though it is) will last. In the three years they’ve known each other he’s gotten tall and deep-voiced, while she’s stayed the same. By the calendar she’s a decade older than him but she’ll never be fully grown. A-Qing is a creature of boundaries, not a girl and not a woman, not living and not dead. Not a destitute orphan anymore but not made for places like this.

More accurately, places like this aren’t made for her. It’s a shame because they clearly need her badly. Who else will give the ghosts and forgotten people a voice?

When the Clarity Bell finally shakes the ghost out of her body, she’s throttling a man with exquisite delicacy, holding his warm and moving throat like it’s the finest china ware. This is how she died, A-Qing thinks. You strangled her and left her body by the roadside. You took her salt and sold it and her family starved.

There’s a heavy hand on her shoulder. “That’s quite enough, I think.” says Jiang-zongzhu, whose voice she bothers to remember.

A-Qing lets the man fall to the floor, gasping even though she barely choked him.

“I told you all to stop talking about your salt plot,” Jiang-zongzhu is shouting above her. “Now you’ve tried to convince Jin-zongzhu alone to go along with your little price fixing scheme? Pathetic. I’ve heard enough of it. Get out. Don’t ever bring it up again.”

There’s a desperate skittering that A-Qing barely notices in the post-possession fog. She assumes the room clears.

“We’ll send the accusations of foul play to the local authorities?” When faced with his uncle Jin Ling always phrases orders as questions.

“A good idea,” Jiang-zongzhu agrees. “Send some cultivators too-- it’s outside of our wheelhouse but there’s bound to be some resentment built up if a merchant syndicate has been running wild through the marshes. Where did you say they were active, Xiao-guniang?”

He’s always polite to her. At first it was a disgusted sort of politeness, a politeness that suggested that she didn’t belong anywhere near his precious nephew. Over time it’s mellowed into frosty gentility and the occasional hand on her arm when she’s lost.

Qing province? she shrugs. South Bo Sea coast.

Signing proper nouns is like playing charades. For qing she points to herself (the words are close enough in pronounciation) for bo she taps her staff. It must make sense though because Jiang-zongzhu doesn’t even wait for Jin Ling’s swift interpretation. “That’s closest to Laoling. Qin Cangye has had a lot on his plate lately. Best to send a letter and some of your men.”

“I guess I should go do that. And I have to reassure the sect leaders I’m not doing demonic cultivation again.” A-Qing frowns and Jin Ling hastily amends, “You did great though.”

“Great is pushing it,” Jiang-zongzhu snaps. “You’re getting a reputation.”

Jin Ling, whose voice is already by the door, isn’t impressed. “They can get over themselves.”

Then it’s just her and Jiang-zongzhu in the room. One heartbeat, one steady warm core. A-Qing turns to go, only to be caught by the arm.

“Thank you.” Jiang-zongzhu says slowly. “You’ve been a good friend to him.”

A-Qing remembers the courtyard with the lotus pond, where she and Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi swore to be siblings in the eyes of the gods. (Though they love their other friends, they were excluded for practical reasons. Sizhui is already related to all of them and needed no further binding. Zizhen is a little in love with everyone and Jin Ling claims it’s bad form to sleep with sworn siblings, so for them to keep their options open he had to be excepted.) It’s a secret oath; Jin Ling doesn’t need the political complication of open sworn brotherhood. It’s still binding.

I try.

Jiang-zongzhu always smells like thunderstorms when he’s stressed. Right now all she can smell is the cloying Jin incense and a sweetness of lotuses. “Keep trying. And don’t be afraid to send for me again if you hear they’re ganging up on him.”

As he lets go of her her hand brushes his trailing sleeve. In an instant her fingers graze over silk brocade and fine patterned cotton. The texture is familiar and she instinctively grabs the fabric to feel the delicate embroidery and the stiff, thick woven cotton that still smells ever so slightly of wax. She can imagine the patterns inked on, maybe lotuses? Greenery? The colors are definitely shades of purple, blue and green.

A-Qing smiles as Jiang-zongzhu pulls away and stalks out.

The best thing about Koi Tower is the clothing, which sits against her skin and reminds her of the people who have taken her in.

The second best thing is getting to terrorize entitled rich people.

#the untamed #fanfic #graduation ficlets #a-qing #jin ling #jiang cheng

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jeeperso · 4 years

Text

My Fated Academia

An MHA/FSN crossover fic experiment (experiment 1 of ???)

This is it, no going back. Not even dad can stop me now.

Ours is a superhuman society, where over 80% of the population has some sort of uncanny ability, or quirk. Because of this, things like streets looks like scenes from comic books. In this era of chaos and confusion, a new profession dominated our collective consciousness. It is a age of heroes.

And today, I start my journey to join their ranks.

It wasn't easy. Ever since I knew this was what I wanted, Dad's been dead set against it. But, since Big Sis is always proving it's better to ask forgiveness than seeking permission with him, I decided to try things her way for once. I applied in secret to UA, the single most prestigious Hero Academy here in Japan, and probably the world, and while dad thinks I'm helping Big Sis at her place for the day, I've snuck here to UA and already taken the written portion of the entrance exam. I'm pretty sure I did all right, unlike that green haired boy a row back. After the exam proctor, Present Mic (wait, like the radio DJ? Questions for later) told us what to expect on the practical, all he could do was quietly mumble to himself.

But then, A lot of us were like that. I don't think anybody expected to be fighting killer robots in a free for all. Poor guy probably has a quirk better suited to rescue work, like detecting body heat or telepathy.

"Hey, I know you" someone says, snapping me from thinking about that, and I look in her direction, and into big black and gold eyes, skin pink as bubblegum and a smile probably bright enough to guide ships in storms.

"No you don't," I retort, trying to back up, but we're all on a bus to our assigned test area, two to a seat, and so I just back up on the window.

"Yeah I do," she beams, "You work at the café I go to. Seriously, those crepes are the best, girl. and you totally rocked the maid cosplay last month."

"that was Big Sis's idea," I say quickly out of how embarrassing that stunt was, "well, she's more like my aunt, but don't say that around her."

"Oh I like you. come to think of it, I've only seen you at the café."

"Home-schooled," I tell her, and mercifully, the bus stops to let us out.

"Good luck out there," she says.

"You too," I respond, "and sorry about that."

She waves it off, but its the truth. However bubbly she is, She's here for the same reason I am, to be a hero, and she deserves respect and honor for her decision. All of us to as we finally assemble outside a gate marked Battle Center A. I barely have time to register the giant doors ahead of us, and the dismissive grunt of it by a blonde boy ahead of us, when they crack open, and Present Mic shouts that the exam's begun...

"DIE!"

And the blonde's battle cry almost drowns out the explosion that launches him into the mock city well ahead of the rest of us. Most of us are running in a second later, while those whose Quirks grant movement find their own ways. I'd like to count myself among the latter, but I couldn't exactly train my Quirk without tipping off Dad.

But limited to my own two feet, I make good time, leading from the front, what I have trained for so instinctive that I don't even register its activity until I've cut my second robot in half, all thanks to Big Sis' Kendo lessons. the pink girl from earlier gives me a cheer as she literally skates by on a glistening trail, and I return her salute when she throws what must be a stream of acid at one of her targets. In the distance, we hear more explosions. DIE!-Boy's streak is so good, some of us may be failing anyway with so few foes left for us. A fact that's clear once an explosion of ball lightning erupts from within a cluster of them. they collapse to reveal another blonde boy who flashes a double thumbs up of almost idiotic confidence

And that's when the earth shakes.

Even in a world of quirks and the superheroes that use them, the sight is almost impossible to comprehend as the final robot appears, so bulky that it seems as if one of the largest buildings about us has decided to take a walk, casually pushing its fellow towers aside like merely heavy curtains instead of countless tonnes of concrete.

Present Mic had warned us of this colossus, that for all its power and menace, its worth is zero points. A mere obstacle and waste of time, even if any of us had the power to fight it. Even Die-Boy must know this, for his explosions don't go off in its direction, and so many of us run.

But I don't. A hero does not abandon the field while the enemy is before them. If the others flee, then it is my duty to cover their retreat. I take a step forward, and a niggling thought pops in. not a memory, not even a dream, just a momentary sense that this is familiar, as if I'd faced a foe like this before, and I take both comfort and confidence.

Another step, and I see that even without that thought, I would do this anyway. the electric boy's smile is not mere confidence, but one of pure idiocy, still smiling, still flashing a double thumbs up, while his eyes are wide in hapless terror, just enough mind left to know he's in the monster's path.

I want to call out, tell Pinky to grab our brother-in-arms, but she's already halfway there, and still not enough time, even as it seems to grind to a halt on my third step. Like I said, I've not trained my quirk much, but I know what it can do, that it as if I could grab hold of the wind itself and use it as a weapon, and with some effort, even hurl blasts of it like in those old animes dad likes so much. but now, in this moment, in the space of time between eyeblinks, that explanation falls short, as I feel a weight in my hands so familiar and right, the faintly blue-white air between my grasping hands becoming shining gold, and I feel a wholeness I never knew I was lacking until now.

and the moment passes, the eye finishes blinking, and there is no golden light. I see Pinky grab the boy, register the gaping hole through the now collapsing robot, and Present Mic, now definitely the guy on the radio, shouting that we're out of time.

We've done it. we saved the day in the nick of time. Pass or fail, in this moment, I take comfort that I finally know what it means to be a hero.

Seiba Emiya. Hero. Has a nice ring to it, I think to myself as I feel my strength abandon me. as my body topples over I pass into welcoming darkness, at least until the familiar nightmare...

#fanfic #Saber #fate stay night #mina ashido #My Hero Academia

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punkandsnacks · 4 years

Text

Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter Two; Outsider.

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Trigger Warnings: Implied violence, sexual thoughts and some emotional abuse.

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

Night falls dark and still over the landscape brushed with snow. Westwell’s gardens seemed crushed under the icy weight.

It seemed the heavy blanketing of it muffled and blotted out all sound. But it’s a peaceful intrusion.

The huge square windows of Westwell Manor are flaked with frost and each square of glass glimmers gold with the tall candle holder placed in each one. A stick of fire and gold warding off that indigo night that shrouded heavy and deep in the sky above. Trying to spill into the window.

Iris is sat in her small bedroom. A tomb or a cell, really, was how it felt to her some days. Wall to wall draped in pretty Morris flowered wallpaper of white sprawling flowers with navy and blue birds and country vines.

Her double bed with twisting pillars of dark mahogany twine up to the wheat thick canopy that is draped over it. The mattress is layered in a fluffy champagne coloured eiderdown and white embroidered scalloped-lace pillows. The floors are dark walnut wood, and they creak wildly. Groaning. Cold and heat seeps easily through the cracks between them in winter. Chilling her toes. And in summer the warmth of the creaking cracking house bleeds upwards.

The walls of her bedroom are sparse but some have photo frames of embroidery or pressed flowers she’s collected over the years held neatly in small wooden frames. She has a small stool by her bed with the tapered candle lit on a brass holder. Apricot flame coming off the long drip of the Chantilly candle. Casting pools of orange up the warm-ivory-bone of the walls. A jug of dried wildflowers sat on that little stool spices up the air. Dried lavender and clary sage, wild shasta daisies and a green-pink hydrangea bulb. Her little stack of modestly worn books lay piled neatly on the floor next to her bed.

Iris is sat at her dresser, pulled near the window. With the roaring fireplace just to her left. Above the mantel hung a gilded mirror on the chain. Candlesticks alight, set on the dresser and on the alcove of the sash window. Two candles flank the oval of the mirror she’s sat looking into.

Mother is behind her, dressed and ready in her purple muslin gown and her white fichu. Stabbing pins into her daughters hair. Every time she sticks in another pin, Iris winces. Blinks through the stinging pain of it. She was attempting a more fashionable colonial coiffure. Easier to produce.

“Your hair is much too thick to curl properly.” Her mother addresses her idly. Snappily. Tugging back a section back behind her ear.

“Posy and Flora have much finer hair.” She offers.

As ever. Iris doesn’t know what to say to that. Should she offer an apology? Should she agree? Disagree? She fails to know how to be.

So she remains silent and watches her mother’s reflection in the looking glass as she almost crossly dresses her hair.

Caroline Ashton was maturely beautiful woman. With skin as clear as fine porcelain - like smooth cream. Even if sporting wrinkles by her mouth and eyes belying her later age. She had hair exactly the same as Iris’s. Except her mother’s was such an opulent shade of cinnamon-black. Stroked with streaks of silver like lightning bolts had struck through. Her eyes were clear silver. Two discs of shining moonstone. Very mysterious eyes, Iris had always thought.

Lately those eyes seemed permanently hardened over like rainstorms. Clouded over with disappointment at her eldest.

Always wishing she could do more to see more of the love that used to linger there. Nowadays it seemed like Caroline could only look at her and see the blemishes. Only see the wrongs.

The frown lines seemed deeper. The cutting remarks appeared more frequent. She was always telling her to sit up straighter, correcting her posture. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her dresses. Always picking. Forever finding something lacking.

Iris likes to think she was doing it out of an abundance of love. But it’s becoming clearer and clearer to her that it’s really about the opposite. It’s not about her wanting to provide for Posy or Flora or Father.

It’s purely selfish. It’s all about her ensuring they don’t lose any respect in the ever omnipotent eyes of society.

If her mother thought less about their image; perhaps Iris could love her more.

As it is. Coldness and distance lay weighty between them. Thicker and frostier than the snow outside. The ground between their geniality and affection lay strewn and twined with thick vines of barbed thorns. No way to tread such hallowed ground without drawing blood.

“Posy and Flora have had their hair in bows all day.” She points out. She shuts her eyes and grits her teeth as another pin slams into her skull. Yanking her hair right at the roots.

“And they’ve taken all week to fret over choosing their dresses.” Iris adds.

She looks up to see those steel swords of mama’s eyes cutting into her in the reflection. Mouth was a grim line.

“You should know by know what’s expected of you, Iris. And not take the matter so lightheartedly.” She warns.

“They can take balls seriously, as real chances of finding matrimony. Why can’t you?” She asks with a cruel tone.

“Mama. Flora and Posy haven’t taken anything seriously since they day they were born.” Iris insults plainly. Speaking truth.

“You know they only delight in attending ball’s and assemblies because they wish to make greater spectacles of themselves in front of soldiers from the militia, and get flirted with, by any creature sporting breeches.” She adds.

“Atleast they try.” Caroline cuts in.

“And I do not?” Iris asks. Flatly exasperated. She huffs.

“You only danced with three men at last months assembly. It’s simply not good enough. You must try harder. Your sisters may have prettiness and confidence in unholy abundance. And they apply it. You wither away and that will never gain you a husband. For heavens sake- What upstanding man wants to marry the silent wallflower?” She declares gruffly.

She fiddles with her new satin gloves sloped in her lap. Her dress was ivory silk printed with frail gold flowers and embroidered scalloping on the hem.

There’s Van Dyke pointed lacing around her neckline and the same embroidered trim on the three-quarter sleeves. White helped ‘lift’ her ash eyes apparantly. It was fresh out it’s box from the dressmakers, Madame Larousse, on Pembleton high street. Indian printed silk and Italian lace. The most expensive fabric in stock.

Their maid, Julia, had earlier laced her stays so tightly over her cotton chemise, Iris worried she broke several ribs. Her nails stung into the wood of her bed post.

Mother was stood getting her gown ready on the other side of the room. Watching her eldest have the breath thumped right out of her lungs. “Tighter.” She ordered. Iris clutched a hand at her stomach.

“A man could go a long way without seeing a bust like yours Iris. We must take advantage of it.” She comments wryly. Julia tugs tighter on the strings. Iris’s jaw clenched all the more.

By the time she’s finished her waist is tucked right in and her breasts clasped high on her chest, almost so high they hit her chin and there’s scant space between her cleavage and her areole tumbling free, this gown is so low cut.

She tugs it up higher when mother isn’t looking. Spectacles of her fertility not quite on such prominent display now.

She fancied this silk of it was so fine and thin - and clung so tight to her body, one breath of wind would closely reveal her wide hips. And doubtless her chemise and garters could be glimpsed through the thin sheer sheen of it.

And here she was now, submitting to her mothers inspection and brutal torture. Laced up in her silken gown. With her best stockings, and slippers. Earlobes dropping pearls, and a head full of silver decorative pins and an ivory comb.

Speaking of which, the latter is just being wrestled into the weave of her coiffured braided bun, at the back.

“There...” Her mother says. Fussing with a few strays. Tucking them in where they should belong. As she picks at Iris’s mud hued hair. She idly asks her questions.

“Will you be dancing with Armitage tonight?” She asks. Insinuated, more likely.

Iris averts her eyes and pats the back of her hair. Checking it in the glass.

“Will he be in attendance?” She asks offhand. As if she had no clue.

“Of course he will. Brendol knows the Hearst’s very intimately.” Her mother shrilled.

“You will dance the first minuet with him and I’ll hear no more fuss about the matter.” She orders. Cold eyes finding her daughters in the mirror.

Armitage Hux was the son of a strict local army colonel. Tall, dashing, hair as brilliant as copper and eyes as cool as teal sea-foam in contrast. He was lean and willowy in stature. Always bedecked finely in his uniform. Buttons gleaming, blushing blood of a red coat brushed and pressed to within an inch of it’s life.

He’s not a bad man - he doesn’t drink or laugh at her. Or try and fondle her in a darkened corner.

He just strikes Iris as being incredibly vain and undeniably haughty. He thinks all the world should be owed to him.

He only wanted to talk medals and glory and rank. How he was a model soldier. And so admired the bravery of gunfire and glory in battle. He’d never even seen battle - his father bought him a conscription and shook hands and pulled favours to get him a high rank in the military. Sergeant Hux, he now was.

He didn’t seem to be able to equate soldiers and uniforms and weapons with actual war or combat. But liked to boast about how deadly he was. His sharp reflexes. His skill as a swordsman and marksman. Iris felt like stuffing cotton in her ears - or sticking her eyes with pins all night - anything but listen to Armitage spew out his toy soldier reveries.

“He is a very agreeable man. You would do well to land him, Iris. He would make a most affable husband and a good match.”

“I barely know him, Mama.” Iris pointed out.

“You don’t need to know him. That is no hindrance to a proposal of marriage.” She says crossly. “You need not know your husband. You merely have to do your wifely duties by him.” She reminds.

My duty of keeping my mouth shut and my legs and womb wide open, Iris thinks.

“I thought I heard he was courting Mary Simpson?” Iris pipes up. Uncurling two tendrils of delicate hair from in front of her ears.

“She has barely a thousand pounds a year. Brendol would never stand for him marrying such a girl.” Caroline declares mightily. Speaking in derision of the girl who was beneath them in every sense.

“Besides. Lord Hearst says there will apparently be a very rich gentleman from the continent in attendance tonight too. A Lord Ren, from Bavaria. It would do well to seek him out.”

“Every matronly mama worth her salt will be throwing their daughters in his path. I do hope he doesn’t trip on the sheer number of them crushed underfoot.” Iris says lightly. Pulling on her gloves.

“And if he is a Lord, why has he deigned in all his lofty power to grace us with his presence, and to come to a small county rather than go to vastly over stocked marriage mart in London?” Iris questions.

“Don’t be so blockish, Iris. Maybe he has business here to attend. Mrs Wilson told me this morning that he’s bought Hellford Park out in its entirety. Now that takes an extraordinary fortune.” She corrects.

Iris looks directly at her mother. She spies the gleam of want in her eyes. The hunger that such a sum she could snatch up in her hands.

“Lord’s marry Heiresses to sugar mills who are poised for ten thousand pounds, or widowed old Duchesses with vast crumbling estates. Why would he in his lofty state and means, lower himself to wed a girl of simple country gentry, with a barely three thousand pound dowry?” Iris sarks.

Mama gives her a pointed look. Like a ream of needles pressing in her skin.

“Then you will make a even better spectacle in front of him. And show him how elegant and courteous country girls can be and see if you can’t win him over that way.” She insists direly. As if she were plotting a serious military offensive.

“If he is a Lord, he will be titled. Titled means landed money and dignity.” Her hair is yanked yet again. “He could well be the answer to all our prayers.”

Your prayers, Iris points out rudely inside her head.

“He could be a hideous old letch.” Iris says, rightly.

Mother stabs one final pin into her head. As if in revenge. “Looks aren’t everything- Money. Station, and respect? That is forever enduring.”

So are things like love, intimacy, friendship and happiness. Those things endure too. But Iris can’t imagine her acerbic mother has ever felt happy or loved a day in her life; she likes to think her marriage, when it comes, shall be different.

She ends the conversation on that dazzling note. Iris’s scalp is on sore-fire by now.

The door opposite them creaks as it’s burst open. Impending footsteps barrelling down the creaking floorboards of the corridor shortly before signalled their arrival. Flora and Posy.

Fully gowned and gloved and perfumed to high heaven, with their hair pulled in elaborate coiffures on their heads. They had perfect curls. Perfect flounces and ruffles on their dresses. Cheeks a healthy pink. Eyes wild bright with excitement.

They look like blooming silk roses in a summer garden. Iris feels more and more like a singed daisy in her own gown.

Flora was dressed in a cobalt muslin, with a roller print of dandelions laid in pinstripes down the fabric. Posy was in a demure blush pink cotton. With lace trim tumbling over the neckline. And Iris sees she wins the honour of wearing the rose silk slippers. Flora is in some ivory ones that have seen more mends and fixes than is earthly possible. For silk slippers didn’t come cheap.

Both her sisters have much lighter colouring; they both still have the chowder grey Ashton eyes.

Flora’s hair however, is darkly mousy brown. Golden like toffee leaves that come off the trees in autumn. Posy is far more chestnut red. Blazing bonfires and russet red embers. Overall more enchanting than that of Iris twigs and sticky-mud hued locks.

They are a barrage of noise and silliness as they barge into Iris’s room. Flora flops onto the end of the well made bed and Posy nosily inspects herself in the looking glass over the fireplace. Preening. Voices overlapping.

“Mama! Did I tell you what Fleur told me earlier today?” Posy insists. Flora speaks louder over her, in order to be heard.

“Mama....Have you seen my pink silk shawl for I’m sure I left it in the drawing room.”

“I haven’t seen your shawl, Flora. You should take better care. And what did Fleur say, my dear?” Caroline asks in a soft voice.

Whilst fixing strayed hairs at Iris’s nape. Pulling and pinching. She had no softness reserved in store for Iris. She rather wants to roll her eyes at that.

“There will be a gentleman of certain lordly magnificence at the ball tonight.” Posy sing-songs. Aiming her teasing words at Iris. Who gives her a cutting look at her bubbly behaviour. Steel daggers made of her grey eyes.

“He’s said to be most handsome, sable haired, and devilishly tall. And he’s single. And Lord Hearst says he’s a recluse who barely leaves his castle, so we’re very honoured he’s coming and he has eighty-thousand a year.” She awards with great enthusiasm. Flora giggles.

“Maybe you should set your cap at him, Iris.” Flora jabs teasingly. “We could all be vastly improved by such a match you know. I could finally stop wearing these hideous thin old slippers.”

Iris wished to point out that she wasn’t being induced into matrimony merely to vastly improve the quality and state of her siblings footwear.

And quite wondered if he sister knew all that she’d have to undertake in making such a match - all she’d have to give up to be some man’s wife. All she’d have to do-

“She won’t. For she’s already got a suitor whose madly in love with her.” Posy insists.

“Hux is not in love with me, Posy. Don’t be ridiculous.” Iris says. For starters she wasn’t his red uniform or his army commission. Those were the things he was resolutely enamoured with.

Standing from the dresser as she speaks, and going to where her new slippers were laid out by the maid on the bed. Flora eyes the silk things with jealous disdain. Iris fixes her satin gloves up over her elbows. Disappearing under her sleeves. Mother is too busy fussing with Posy’s neckline - tugging it up to cover more of her second youngest’s chest. She protested so at the action.

Iris took the opportunity to slide a small pearl hair comb into Flora’s hand. Her favourite one. The one with coral flowers and paste amber gems on it.

Iris flickers a look over the mother and a silent understanding passes between the sisters. ‘Put it in, in the coach in the dark. So she doesn’t see.’

Flora smiles awfully wide up at her sister. Grateful that she shared out her pretty things. Flora was the youngest - the youngest daughter deserved nice trinkets too.

“If you’re all ready we’d best be off soon. The roads are icy. It will take an age. I won’t have us be late.” Mama orders out to all her girls.

She turns her head to Iris “Fetch your things and the velvet cloak. And for heavens sake don’t be long. We don’t have all night.” She frets.

Marching out the room after rearranging some of Posy’s curls. Barking at Flora as she passed to fix the wrinkle in her gloves. The door grated and whines as she shuts it, lock rattling in the frame.

Iris savours the silence - the crackling of the fire. The owl hooting off in the tree tops outside her window. She lets it soothe her. Let’s out the deepest sigh as they’re now left alone.

She crosses to her wooden wardrobe cabinet by the door, and opens the door to search for her blue velvet cloak. She throws it around her shoulders and ties it up. Posy hands her sister her cream silk reticule.

“She just wants you to marry well.” Posy says with some attempt at comforting.

Iris nods, glumly stroking her sisters hand in thanks. Looking into her earnest young face. Still so full of innocence and hope.

Her heart shaped little face so full of impish naivety.

“She might do not to make me feel exclusively like a breeding mare to be sold to the highest bidder for marriage at every conceivable turn.” Iris says wryly.

Angrily shoving a meagre few possessions into her reticule from her dresser. She looks down at her empty dance card that mother would see absolutely filled with names by the end of the night.

She wipes away an angry tear from the corner of her eye with a handkerchief that Flora gives her. Her anger crowded and crackled the room. These two didn’t deserve her ire, after all.

She sighs yet again. Letting the churning anger eating at her bleed out. Frustration filtering away. She plasters on a smile. Posy steps forwards to her exasperated sister.

“Can I borrow your diamond droplet earrings? They’d go very well with my dress...” She asks coyly. With her hands behind her back.

Iris rolls her eyes. Maybe they did deserve just a little bit of ire after all-

“You are both enormous pests.” She says. Guiding them out her room.

“Come on. Lest we hold mother up and I don’t much fancy our chances then.”

She corrals her pests of sisters downstairs. Makes sure they too are cloaked and ready. They have their gloves and she does uncurl Posy’s palm as they’re heading out the door, dropping the diamond and earrings into them. They sparkle in the moonlight.

“Lose them and mother will have your head.” She whispers to her in caution as they alight the warmth of the house into the cold sting of the night air.

Snow crushed under their slippers as they make for the coach. Slipping to step up inside the cold wooden enclave of it. Rubbing their cold hands together to create some heat.

It was just the Ashton ladies in attendance tonight. Father cared little for balls. Something mother sniped at him for regularly. Ernest Ashton would far rather stay home of a night with his ledgers and his books and his brandy than subject himself to the silly gossip and frivolity of idiotic society people present at balls.

Her father was a tall, quiet man. Sturdy and aged as an old oak. Strong and strapping figure even in his later years. He quietly took interest in the world where her mothers inclination was to devour it.

He had an open broad face. With tame blue eyes and thick greying hair. He was a studious man. Often kept to his study or the gardens. He enjoyed his ornithology and his Entomology books. He collected butterflies. All pinned out in cases in his study. Lining the walls.

It was a place she found infinite comfort in. Wandering into her fathers study. His entomology collection like dots of silken colour in their cases. Old leather books and volumes and manuscripts. Edifying proud in their papery silence. The old wood of his desk worn by years and years. The smell of the study. Of old leather and pipe tobacco. And peppermints from the little jar he kept on his desk.

He didn’t press Iris in the same way her mother always prevails to do. But then she sees the frayed gems and worn and mended holes in his clothes. The faded material in his waistcoat. How he hasn’t bought himself new shoes in two years.

That’s how she can put up with every snipe and every cross word that spits out her mothers mouth.

Iris sometimes quite wondered how her parents ever stood each other for any length of time to bear any children. They were entirely separate people whose interests did not align. They agreed on very little. And settled for that.

It’s so cold in the coach they can see their breath as they bump and shift along the icy roads. Trees make terrible dark shapes in the near distance, beyond the frosted glass of the coach door window. Iris sits, peering out. Watching the full bowl of the moon slither white off the silver and black landscape. Off the snowy fields and perched on the roofs of the hamlet of houses they pass by.

The carriage crawls slow up the winding drive of the Hearst’s three acre estate. Horses hooves hitting the hard paved path. Clopping in the night air. Skipping over the frost. They’re but mere minutes from exiting the coach, when mother decides to speak up and issue a few last desperate words of strict orders upon her eldest;

“Take every opportunity Iris. I won’t have it said in the gossip sheets tomorrow that you didn’t even try.” Caroline insists. Fussing with her own thick muslin cloak draped over her lap.

Iris looked at her mother then. Across the dark carriage as she tuts at the specks of lint sullying Flora’s cloak where she’s sat next to her. Picking it away.

She strongly suspected Caroline Ashton could have the whole world in her palm or on a string; and even then she’d find fault in it. Pluck displeasing bits of it out like loose threads.

She has that irate frown darkening her features. Cloudy set in her eyes. Posy’s little gloved hand reached across and held her sisters tight. Squeezing it in comfort sat there in the dark. Iris turns and looks to see Posy’s heart shaped face beaming up at her.

“You should let us introduce you to Captain Clifford’s friends Iris. They really are the most splendid fun. I’ve heard many of them say they quite fancy you, you know.” Posy grins. Whispering hushed to her sister to keep her spirits buoyant.

Iris strokes her hand and she can’t help smiling. More at her always sunny hopes. How bright her outlook on life was. She saw ball’s for the fun they were meant to be.

A dance, a party, a celebration.

Posy wasn’t yet tarnished by the knowledge that her hopes for future happiness depended on her behaving well and taking things seriously. It stopped being fun and became a chore. Iris lost her starry eyed wonder about ball’s years ago.

She hoped she could help Posy keep her gleaming eyed wonder and fun for just that bit longer. She would suffer every second of misery to keep it that way if she must.

She squeezes her hand back. “Thankyou. That’s very sweet. But I fear I shall be otherwise engaged in dances.” She excuses.

Besides, most of the young Militia men she met were very wet behind the ears. And all madly enamoured with exhausting dances and infatuated with every beautiful young lady in attendance. Declaring they fell head over heels with every girl they so much as walk past. She finds their overeagerness and exuberance a little trying.

Before long, they draw up the grand old stone columns abutting the front of the huge house.

An immense hulking beast of a thing. Lit with autumn-blaze torches in the night. The coach lurches to a creaking uneven stop. Jolting. And a helpful gold liveried footman in a powdered wig steps to and opens the door to help the ladies out.

Caroline doesn’t even glance at the man. Looks right through him. Flora flutters a flirty smile. Posy and Iris offer a polite snippet of thanks.

The Ashton ladies make their way up the torch lit steps and into the greatly heaving bustling foyer of the Hearst’s grand house.

Renford Manor was one of the finest houses in the county. The gardens were splendid. There was a maze and a famed marble garden gazebo.

A great split imperial staircase opens into the large cool foyer. All ivory marble. Hues of Eggshell and ice. Imposing, echoing and cold. Footsteps rattle like claps up to the ceiling. Distant notes of the small orchestra float through the air like zipping flapping insects.

Everything glimmers. The chandeliers that drip with gold and crystal. The old pearl and sharp onyx pointed tiles on the floor look like they’ve been scrubbed raw. They gleam almost too brightly.

They hand over their cloaks to more footmen to be put away. Letting their ball gown splendour come forth. Iris is almost crushed by the amount of people there are in attendance here tonight. Lady Hearst was known to stuff her parties to the seams. The whole county, and all of the two neighbouring ones, had most likely been invited.

Mama encourages them all up the staircase. Idly smiling greetings in passing to her matrons of her acquaintance. Iris skims one hand along the smooth cold of the marble banister. Holding her skirts up as her slippered feet hit each step. Steps firm and steady.

They come to one of the big main ballrooms. Looking through the scope of many double doors, leading onto another room and the next and the next furniture pushed aside. There was such a crush of so many ladies and numerous gentlemen packed in. Coats of all colours on the men. The spectrum of silks and cotton dresses so vast, it quite made her head spin.

Flora excitedly giggles and slips away. A flurry of laughter erupts and she joins hands with a little gaggle of her more intimate friends.

Iris raises a brow at her behaviour, not surprised to see that she caught a glimpse of a fair few red coated members of the militia in that particular direction. Mother huffs and gruffly tells Flora, through gritted teeth, not to linger too long.

Iris and Posy linger by mother as they chat to an elderly companion. Mrs Bishop. An ever worrying woman, Who ventured the world was going to end if there was slightly too much rain. She was practically apoplectic about the snow. Iris shares a look of pain with Posy. Who excuses herself with a bob of a curtesy to go find Flora.

“Pest.” Iris smiles at her as she slips away from conversing will dull matrons about the impending end of civilisation and the earth as they knew it. Anymore and Iris will be forced to rush for a vinaigrette of smelling salts to revive the poor dear when she swoons.

Iris stands with her hands folded demurely in front of her. Her eyes wandering over the party in full swing behind her.

The crush of noise, music and heat and bodies. Candies flicker doomed shapes copper and black up the light walls. The tall windows are guarded with heavy emerald draperies. Cascading waterfalls of apple green. Spilling and tumbling like grassy hills.

The windows glimmer like yellow square gemstones from the candles in their stands dotted everywhere. The dark floorboards glow with it too. Patches of orange inbetween the shadows.

The ballrooms, of which there were three, all adjoined by French pocket doors, are kept fairly dark. Lit only by the honey slither of candles reaching apricot slithers of light at every corner. People chatter and laugh to the din of a faint violin chorus of Mozart.

Laughter, Baritone gruff and the sparkling light of ladies chuckling delight flutters up to the ceiling. The room seems to burst at the seams with it all. Like a room full of butterflies. The heat, the noise, the voices and music. It was almost too much. Everything is palpable and it stings and rips at her eyes and ears.

They eventually depart from the hysterical Mrs Bishop. Leaving her fanning herself on a settee. Trying not to succumb to a fit of the vapours.

They make their way through the ballroom. Chatting and conversing and being mangled in the almost too heaving crowds. She loses count of the amount of times her toes get stepped on. Or elbows sharply prodded into the soft of her back as people pass.

Eventually; much to her mother’s delight, Iris is propositioned by a young gentleman from the militia, into a dance. There seemed to be no sight of Hux yet. Much to Mama’s chagrin.

He’s very polite and puppyish, delivers her safely back to her mothers side when the polka dance is through. Kisses her hand, declares her daughter a fine dancer, then is off onto the next partner.

They are lingering on the far side of the dance floor, just idly watching. In full view of the doors and the adjacent ballroom. Through the two sets of double doors either side of a great roaring stone fireplace. It’s light casting copper over every dancer.

“We won’t waste our time on him.” Mother harrumphed when he leaves. Looking with disdain as they watched him ask Primrose Charleston to dance the next.

“Mama. It was merely a dance.” Iris points out with a futile smile. “Don’t tell me you were picking out wedding attire and embroidered initial pillowcases.” Iris mocks.

That earns her a sharp look. She smiles in forbearance right back at her mother.

Her cheeks now pinkened and her eyes bright from the exercise. She likes dancing. When her partner isn’t a clumsy one, or reeks of port or body odour, or wine, or has wandering letching hands. It’s actually rather enjoyable.

“We should be setting our sights rather more higher than some penniless officer.” She insists. Watching the couples twirl and sway in front of them.

“Heaven forfend I dance with a man sheerly for the joy of it.” Iris concludes.

Caroline tuts in exasperation. Mumbles under her breath. “You do so vex me greatly sometimes, Iris. Even worse than your sisters.” She grumps.

Deep down inside, Iris is a little proud of that accomplishment.

A flurry of footsteps and squeaking squeals and suddenly Flora and Posy burst into view where Iris and her mother are stood.

Their voices are high pitched and they’re panting with excitement. Flora slings her hands into Iris’s and twirls her around with elation. Iris stumbles in the circle Flora leads her in. Posy is stood by Caroline grinning up a storm.

“Mama, Iris. He’s here! He’s here and he’s coming this way!” Posy giggles. Iris and her mother remain perplexed.

“Who is, my dear?” Caroline seeks. Frowning a little.

“He is surely the most handsome man I ever seen. And so tall. Did you see him Flora? That chest...” Posy flatters.

“Taller than any man I’ve ever met. And so well built. Such stature.” Flora says back.

“And he has dark eyes, Did you notice?” Posy asks.

“Of course I noticed! Very dark eyes. They are positively enchanting.”

“Bewitching.” Posy giggles.

“And his shoulders in his coat. So large.”

“For goodness sake, lower your voice-“ Iris chides at the both of them, glancing around the ballroom. Trying to decipher who they were so flustered and flapping about.

Her eyes don’t make it past the door-

The room seems to have slowed. The dancers are distracted. People around the fringes of the ballroom chatter louder. Deafening din rising. Gossip flourishing.

For Lord Hearst is at the entrance of one of the double doors, conversing with someone, and that someone walking by his side, is one of the broadest and most strapping men Iris has ever seen in her whole life.

He wasn’t just a man.

He was entirely too much, man.

“That’s Lord Ren. The handsomely rich one all the way from Bavaria.” Flora hisses to them all. “I’ve never seen a gentleman more strongly built, or beautiful.” She giggles loudly.

“I beg of you, lower your voice.” Iris chides. Pearl earrings jitter as she moves her head. Ash eyes governed by lintels of her brows creased up in a light frown.

Everyone’s eyes in this small stale society, is fixed solid upon the sight of this newcomer. Hungrily devouring this unfamiliar brooding man.

Obsidian jacket. Snowy shirt. Scarlet cravat like a bloodied noose around his neck, with a seers eye of a winking diamond pin studded in the knot. He radiates charm and magnificence. And masculine appeal.

“He’s in mourning to be wearing such dark colours.” Mother presumes. “How unusual for a man.”

“Don’t fret, Mama. Lady Hearst assures me he’s most certainly single. Now, Iris might have her chance at him after all...” Posy cackles.

Iris rams an elbow into the bony cradle of her sisters petite hip.

“Do try and endeavour to behave.” She chides to Posy. Whispering harshly.

This mysterious Lord is unfashionably attired in all black. Perhaps he is in a state of mourning? Ink black breeches cling tight to his strong thighs and wide wide hips and shining boots come to his knees - the wrong sort of footwear for a ball but he doesn’t appear to notice. Or even care.

He had an air about him that couldn’t be ignored. The dark clothes. Sable hair. It was long too. Far too long by societal standards. It curled at his neck. Swept in tumbling waves back from his face.

He’s scanning the room like he hates everything and everyone in it. A soured scowl on his face. The softness of his full lips are pursed and there’s a predatory quality to the way his eyes flicker around the crowds. He seems above it all. Distant. Untouchable. He was a Lord - he held himself superior as one as if a different species.

“Fleur told me he’s quite the scandalous man....” Flora begins.

“I heard he was married. Once before, but she turned mad and killed several servants. So he locked her in the dungeons and she’s still here raking her fingers to the bone at the stone walls to get out.”

Iris wants to roll her eyes. Now it’s Posy’s turn for interjection;

“And I heard that his castle is haunted and full of ghosts. And he seduces young noble women and then sacrifices and feeds them to the devil. Maybe he’s prowling for next victim?” She gasps frenziedly.

“You two need to stay clear away from anymore novels.” Iris scoffs.

She lets her eyes slip back over this Lord’s frightening exterior. She focuses on the dark pits that were his eyes. They seemed oddly familiar. As if she’s glimpsed them before. In a fanciful daydream, maybe- or maybe it was a dreadful nightmare.

They’re too far away to make out their true colour. But it must be a truly dark for the way they eat up all the light and glitter like rough cut gemstones lost to shadow.

His arms folded behind his back pulls his coat right across his chest. Exposes the musculature of him: he is big and beastly. There was no denying; his figure is redoubtably masculine. Intimidating and strong- meaty arms, no tapering away at his waist. He was entirely built of great slabs of muscles.

A warriors figure through and through.

Iris thought that such a body frame belonged in a previous age. A more ravening one. A cutthroat one. That stature was suited to a gigantic rampaging viking or a crusading knight in steel armour.

Quite why she thought so she can’t fathom. That big shape of his seemed unsuited to the setting of a dainty English ballroom. It seemed more natural for him to be on a battlefield slicked up and splattered in the blood of his enemy’s.

She watches as he boredly sizes up the room before him. An arcing sweep of his eyes and he’s done with it. Thrown aside all interest. Devouring all pitiful excuses for life. As if he’s looking or searching for something...

Then he looks right at her-

His eyes spear directly into her. See’s her. Meets her grey gaze and keeps it. Steals it away beyond her reckoning.

One side of his lip curls up. His eyes churn to look nearly honey gold in the light. Trick of the mind. All in her head. It was surely just the candles malforming the shade-

But it seemed more than him just seeing her. It was as if he could gaze right through her. Pierce her skin. Puncturing her very soul - she’s sure.

Her whole body feels his looking at her. She thrashes and aches.

If she has one. Some flimsy scrap of quivering human spirit in her, it is quaking and trembling now, and very much intoxicated by this man.

Her cheeks flush and she feels that betraying annoying heat slither down her neck and flourish at her breast. She swallows and blinks and tears her eyes away. She looks at her shoes cause she’s suddenly got a spinning head and her mouth is woolly.

That look and those savage eyes had set a flame blazing right down to her bones. There’s something she feels deep down that almost seems strange. Uncertain yet resolute. A tug on her stomach. An unknown yearning.

She realises quickly that this was the same pair of eyes that stole her breath this very afternoon. The gentleman from the imposing black carriage. Twice now she’s locked eyes with him and stared.

He must think her either a raving simpleton or a gawping lunatic.

“Iris. I do believe he’s staring at you.” Posy hisses with a wide impressed smile.

“Oh he is! He’s definitely staring.” Flora squeals. Tugging and shaking her sisters hand.

“Iris. Stand straight. Stop stooping. Chin up for heavens sake- look decent.“ Mother shrills through a gritted smile. Smiling demurely in the intended direction of Lord Ren. Preening herself like a flustered hen.

Iris dares another look up. Clasping her hands together delicately in front of her. At the front of her skirts. Him and Lord Hearst are mere feet away now.

“He’s coming this way! Mama! He’s coming over...” Posy grins. Flora laughs with her.

By now, Iris’s heart resembles a mad creature clawing at its cage, desperate to be free. Thumping and thudding her neck. Quivering nervous breaths leave her lips. Heartbeat hammering and pulsing in her ears.

He’s looking at Posy or Flora, she thinks. He must be. They always draw men like magnets. He’s not looking at me- he’s not. Really. He’s not-

They are closer now. Lord Hearst and Lord Ren are mere metres away. The entire room seems to be holding its breath. Another dance starts up and she’s glad for that distraction.

Her cheeks remained flushed and she raises her eyes when the air shifts around them. She can scent the brandy and violet water coming off Lord Hearst. There is his stout waistcoat and his perfumed wig. Lord Ren appears unscented. But a fusion of aromas simply pour off his vast body.

Sandalwood oil. Probably used on that thick rakish mane of his. There’s something else too, something earthy darkly rich, that mingles with the musky new wool of his coat. Peppermint or spices. She can’t tell. It’s damnably distracting.

“Praise the lord in heaven. We are saved.” Her mother mumbles gladly under her breath. Smile wide and gentle. Artificial and superficial to hide her truer nature.

Lord Hearst and Lord Ren are right before them now. Right in front of them. “Mrs Ashton.” Lord Hearst begins in greeting. Iris watches her Mama curtesy politely to the old lord.

“Might I have the pleasure of introducing you to Lord Ren. An old acquaintance of mine...”

Iris looks from the doddery old form of the red faced Lord Hearst, up and up up, into the face of the dark stranger. The top of her head would barely come to brush at his collarbones. His eyes are still fixed on her face. A shock jolts through her like she’s been burned.

“Lord Ren, this is Mrs Caroline Ashton. And her daughters. Miss Posy Ashton. And Miss Flora Ashton...” Lord Hearst introduces. Flora and Posy bob demure little curtseys at him. Bowing their heads and smiling prettily like fools.

He barely glances toward them. His eyes were fixed on Iris.

“And this is her eldest daughter, Miss Iris Ashton.” Lord Hearst beckons to her. Stood back behind her two sisters, and almost guarded by her mother.

She curtseys. Chin to her chest and she bows her neck in a manner she hopes comes across as graceful.

Lord Ren smiles. It’s terrifying in its power and beauty.

It moves the corners of his lips. And he comes in a step closer. Advancing.

Posy and Flora flatten back a little. When one hand comes around from his back, Iris could see he had thick leather gloves on. As if entranced she reached out where his hand beckoned to hold hers.

She slipped her satin gloved hand into his big offered dark palm. It sits right in the middle of the wide thing. So dainty in comparison.

He brings her silken hand up. Bows down and lays a kind kiss to the back of it. His eyes hadn’t left her since he entered the room - they didn’t start shying away now.

This is a man who is not shy. Not any bit of him.

He draws her hand down, very slightly. Freeing his lips.

“Enchanting to meet you, Miss Ashton.” He says.

Iris never knew a voice could be so deep. His voice sunk right to the core of her. Right through flesh and bone. Sinking deep. She’d expected a Bavarian accent. Or a continental lilt. But his accent is precise, crystal-cut English.

She blinks. Remembering she had a verbose vocabulary to make use of.

“It’s an honour to make your acquaintance, Lord Ren.” She gasps out with some hint of strength in her voice. When she lets her hand slips from his, her body feels strange. Her whole arm is left tingling.

She finds herself sighing as she pulls her hand back. He straightens his back with ease. She knows her mothers eyes are looking sharply at her so she remembers her politesse.

She feels like the whole world is watching them converse.

“Are you, enjoying... your time in England?” She seeks. “I understand you are recently arrived.”

“Very much.” He looks amused. “I haven’t been on these shores in- quite an age.” He says. She can’t help but feel there is something cryptic to his meaning.

“Do you mean to stay long, in Hampshire, your lordship?” Flora asks. Batting her long lashes up at him so much she could fan out a chandelier of candles if she’s not careful.

His eyes calmly flick across to the smallest Ashton sister. But linger back on Iris.

“Not long. But after tonight I think I’ve found sufficient reason to extend my stay.” His smile twitches smoothly once again.

“Are you enjoying Hellford Park, your lordship? Surely it is the finest house in the county, is it not?” Posy enquires.

Another flicker of those charcoal eyes to the other little Ashton. Really, there were too deuced many of them, Kylo thinks.

“It is an immaculate house. The snowy woods are very pleasant this time of year.” He agrees.

“Of course. The climates in Bavaria are surely similar. I imagine there is much snow on your own estate, your lordship?” Iris asks.

He seems pleased with her interjection. As if she were the only soul whose voice he wished to hear.

When he looked at her, it was like they were the only two people in this room. The only two that mattered. It’s just them, in the candlelight, cast by flame. As if no pairs of eyes are watching - when in reality there are hundreds looking in.

“Indeed. The summers are short, and the winters are long and frigid. I am somewhat familiar with the clime of snow. It falls more gently here than in Bavaria.” His eyes glare warmly across at her. Increasing her blush.

Caroline steps in with a saccharine smile that showed far too much teeth. A leer it could rightly be called.

“You must come and dine with us at Westwell, Lord Ren. We would be honoured to receive you. We can promise you an elegant dinner service, and cards. Why we dine with six and twenty great and fine families around the county. We would be very much favoured with your visit. I wager you won’t get finer, prettier companions or better conversation elsewhere...” Mother boasts.

He smiles right at Iris and it spears into her hot chest like an iron poker stoked too long in the fire. Red hot.

“Indeed. I Thankyou greatly for the invitation. Madam.” Then his eyes grow blacker. “You have very fine daughters. God has blessed you three times over.”

Flora giggles a beaming smile. Posy bats her lashes and grins. Iris fiddles with her hands and examines the floorboards, reddening at his charm.

“I often think so, myself.” Mother preens.

“Of course all my girls are immensely beautiful. But, it is my Iris who is revered around these parts as a local beauty.” She lies.

“Mama.” Iris blushes crimson. Averting her eyes.

“A rumour well circulated indeed.” Kylo’s looking at her. And to her amazement. She bravely looks back.

“And she deserves every such compliment I can bestow.” Kylo adds.

“You are too kind, Lord Ren.” Iris smiles slightly at him. It makes his chest pound harder. Watching her bosom heave at the neckline of her dress.

His mouth waters. That same scent from this afternoon hits him square in the jaw like a rounded fist. He all but moans at the erotic pleasure of it. Of her sweet scent drifting up his nose. Stoking at his eager hunger.

He will tear something apart tonight, rip it limb from limb, and glut himself on that sweet penny-metal flush of blood spilling down his parched throat. And as he does- as he feasts and drinks and crimson drips from his maw, he will think of this moment; of her aroused scent tangled in his nose. Stirring his own lust to boiling point.

He bids the Misses and Mrs Ashton’s a goodnight.

Lord Hearst had more introductions for him to make. More simpering sickening people to meet. All the same. Savagely polite and viciously boring. Their superficial kindness and flattery turns his stomach.

A bevy of swans the lot of them. Preening and pathetic. He could barely hide his disgust at the stench of rotten perfume that beat off each one of their hot pulsing throats. All the vapid girls that desperate Mother’s shoved in his chest to make introductions.

It was like the sheep throwing their own sweet little lambs out into the slobbering wolves.

If this were a less guarded age he might have already slipped away under guise of a romantic tryst in the garden, to drink a few of them dry.

Posy and Flora squeak and shake Iris’s arm after he passes. He is led around the ballroom, that great vast man. Introduced to all the good and the great. They gabble and squawk at their sister about how she’ll be the next Lady of Hellford Park.

She shushes them and sees it makes Lord Ren lock eyes with her from over where he towered loftily across the ballroom crowds.

Her heart starts beating wild again. A demure smile and she takes her eyes away elsewhere. And that heartbeat calls out to him like the pound of a war drum. A bell summoning him to worship.

Oh yes. He thinks. She is the one.

And she’ll do splendidly.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

#kylo ren #kylo ren x oc #vampire!kylo #vampire au #very wolves and doves #Iris vibes 🕊#Lord Ren vibes 🐺#Draegan vibes 🥀#vampirelovestory #vampire #demon #ao3 fanfic #lovestory #angst #smut #slow burn #regency era

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

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Winx Club Season 6 Thoughts Part 1

I have watched this more than once and even though I have some memories of the ending, I still have no idea what is happening in this season. Now my expectations have been updated to “take what I can get” so that should go better. Also, I will be writing the number of the episode above the section of thoughts that deals with it so that it can be easier to navigate my posts. With that said, let’s get to it:

- Wow, they actually showed Daphne together with the Winx in the intro? Nice. However, I am torn between wanting to move on from Sirenix and despising the fact that I’ll have to suffer through Bloomix and Mythix this season. It’s a lose-lose situation for me.

6x01:

- The Trix now have beef with Daphne as well? And they are going back to the somewhat original plan of the Coven to destroy Domino? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am actually excited about this!

- Did Daphne just try to go through the door? Aww, sweet precious child who has forgotten what it is to have a body. I am in pain for her even though I am happy that she is human again. I do not like the way that Marion and Oritel seem to not grasp the very obvious problem that Daphne is facing, however. I wish we could see their relationship with Daphne but we can’t step aside from Bloom for three seconds. At least they are showing some consequences of everything Daphne has gone and keeps going through.

- If the beast is the most powerful thing in the Magic Dimension, why does it listen to the Trix instead of just eating them before moving on to Domino? And it looked pretty awake without them having to summon it. So yeah, not much sense in this.

- Okay, I can get that Daphne is still getting used to having a body again but her doubting herself does not feel in character to me. She was always the one to tell Bloom to not doubt herself and she never lost faith in anyone from their family even when she spent two decades as a spirit. This is not my Daphne. She would know how to proceed. It’s like they reversed all her wisdom after bringing her back. As if you can’t be wise unless you’re a non-corporeal entity. I don’t like that. And wasn’t she the nymph of Magix? She is now the nymph of Domino. I mean, she could be both, I guess, but the titles are never used simultaneously.

- Why are the Specialists flying on their bikes if the ship is also there? And why is Daphne wearing heels if she has trouble walking?!?!?!?!

- Did Marion do all of the decorations with her magic? I’m just gonna accept that it was her. Also, I am kinda glad that they kept the maids from Magical Adventure. They were well-intentioned even if a little overbearing.

- Yes, Bloom, great way to be empathetic with your sister. Keep telling her about DANCING even though she can’t even walk in a straight line... or any kind of line. They should have waited with the party. And Daphne tripped here because Bloom had stepped on her clothes. It wasn’t her fault. Though, a makeover might be good for her. I am not a fan of the way Stella referred to her as if Daphne is the younger one and needs help (even though she does need help).

- I also don’t like the fact that they are trying to say that Daphne is stuck on who she was which keeps her from becoming who she needs to be in the present. It does not sound like her. But it’s cute that all the Winx are trying to help her. I won’t mind her being a more central part of this season. She has helped them so many times that it would be nice to see them do something for her or even with her.

- Daphne does look nice! Certainly better than Winx in their hideous dresses Won’t we burn those things already?!

- Yeah, Daphne cowering away and hiding at Oritel’s side is definitely not in character. Sorry but she legit gave everything she had to save her sister from the Ancestral Witches even when she knew it would be the end of her.

- Oh, look. They’re using the special Sirenix spells. I can’t believe it.

- Oritel (and Marion) must be so goddamn sick of the Trix and them threatening his family already. And it hasn’t been more than a year since they came back from Obsidian.

- Oh, poor Daphne. I feel so bad for her. But at least she has her family now and they can hold her and help her get through it. Though, I still think this isn’t entirely in character for her. Tritannus tortured her and she refused to tell him anything and she kept fighting even from her cell despite how limited her resources were. Here she hasn’t even tried. They said she didn’t have her powers but we haven’t seen her try to use them and Daphne has always tried until the very last moment.

- Okay, but I hate it when they send them places only for them to realize they had the answer all along.

- Omg, she was gonna sacrifice herself just to not threaten anyone else. This is more like Daphne. But I am so happy that she got her powers back. Even though they really half assed her Sirenix transformation, though I guess that was to be expected. After Roxy (oh, wait, and Diaspro, too), she is the only fairy besides Winx to be given any transformation so I guess they thought that anything would do.

6x02:

- Why is Kiko excited to be back at Alfea? And what the hell are Daphne and Bloom doing there? Daphne should be on Domino and getting reacquainted with politics and economy for when she will be queen and Bloom and the other Winx should probably be in the Love and Pet store. Anywhere, really, but at Alfea. Why are they at Alfea again? *sigh*

- Aww, I love the fact that they are all still wearing the charm bracelets Bloom gave them for Christmas. It’s cute. I am not as much a fan of Stella being as obsessed with fashion as she was in season 5. They made her whole character about that (except the struggle with her parents but that has also been resolved now more or less so...)

- I guess bending down is overrated now. You just use magic instead of any other way of solving problems like picking things up from the floor or making space in a room. And poor Kiko. No one noticed that he got miniaturized.

- The new clothes suck. They look so... same. At least the old outfits still had some personality to them.

- How did Griselda not feel the wave of Stella’s magic? Or notice the... illusion? (I suppose Stella used dispersed light to create the appearance of a normal bedroom instead of the boutique.) At least she noticed Kiko. But ewwww, why did he lick Bloom’s face (and after he was angry with her)? He’s not a dog!!!!! Please, writers.

- Oh, no! The pixies are here. Why did they not only change Tecna and Musa’s pixies, but also the design for Piff? Locket, Amore and Chatta look almost the same but I am so not on board with the very fact that they are all back. The least the writers could have done would have been to keep the old pixies (and designs). (Just, please, tell me that the Winx aren’t students again.)

- Faragonda has been Headmistress of Alfea for 100 years? Yeah, right. Direct contradiction right there. In SotLK Hagen said that when they battled the Coven, they were Winx’ age. So they should be about 50. I just hate this. And Faragonda saying that she doesn’t like celebrating anniversaries because they make her feel old? That feels OOC to me but okay.

- Lmao, dying at that dance between Faragonda and Wizgiz. XDDD

- Griffin sounds like she’s finally turned the education in CT in the right direction. She even asked the elder students to help the freshmen which is nice because we’ve seen her not care about the malice witches exhibited towards each other (which I call bullshit on but still). But with the proving thing? Yeah, okay.

- Obviously Selina and Bloom know each other because Selina is from Earth and we all know that everything that happens on Earth is in Gardenia. Love how Griffin didn’t react to that info, though. Does that mean that there were witches on Earth even when the fairies were trapped? Dammit, writers, develop your damn world!

- How did the pixies even defeat the trolls the first time around? And why the hell did they decide that it was a good idea to imprison them under pixie village? You see, this is why you don’t live over the place you imprisoned your enemies. Because they don’t need to find you if they get free. They are already there.

- Oh, Griffin actually stopped the destruction of Pixie Village? I am surprised. I thought she would just let it go on. I mean, the show hasn’t been all that consistent with her characterization so...

- How the hell is Bloom sensing the other pixies? She isn’t bonded to them. If anything, Locket should be the one being able/unable to trace them.

- I was ready to be majorly pissed at this episode and now I am. It was already annoying me but the Trix defeating Griffin so easily made everything much worse. And like... she didn’t even try to fight them? She could have put up a shield to protect herself from all their attacks and she could have used her ability to fly in order to be more mobile while fighting them but nah. She just got soundly defeated. Amazing. And by amazing, I mean the exact opposite. This was horrible and I hate it.

- So... did the Trix ditch their Sirenix? And where did they get those new powers? Also, why the hell did the other witches join them so easily? I know that most witches must want recognition but some of those witches were there when the Trix nearly killed them both in season 1 and season 2. They at least shouldn’t have joined them. Or even if they’d joined, it should have been just a cover so that they don’t get spelled like Griffin and they could secretly work on taking the Trix down. Oh, yes, and why do the Trix want to take over the other colleges? That somehow doesn’t make sense. They already tried that back at season 1 and it didn’t work out.

- What the hell happened to Cloud Tower being a living being? They just destroyed parts of it but nah, that hasn’t come up yet. I hate this. Also, the fact that Griffin not only got turned into a crow but also hit by a lightning. Poor baby!

- Oh, great! She almost died. Love how it was never addressed what it was like for Griffin not just to be a crow but also unable to help save her school and her witches because she couldn’t even warn the others what was going on.

6x03:

- Why can’t Roxy just grant the crow the ability to talk? We know from season 4 that she can. The dark magic could have prevented that but at least they would know that there is a spell on the crow. And how did Faragonda not feel Griffin? There should be some part of her aura or whatever that hasn’t changed despite the magic in place. Not to mention that Griffin could have tried to show her it was her in some way. The two know each other. Surely if Griffin flew around and pulled out an object that means something to both of them, Faragonda would have started wondering and would have probably figured out what happened. There were so many ways around this but the writers didn’t want contact to be possible because otherwise, it would be over too soon when Winx defeated the Trix.

- Why are the boys at Linphea college now? Also, why doesn’t Brandon know that Sky has a cousin? I guess Thoren doesn’t show up on Eraklyon but does that mean that his whole family has just let go of their ties to the crown? I somehow doubt that.

- Yes, Musa. Destroying all of Alfea with your music will surely cheer up the pixies.

- So why is Miele not in Alfea? That sounds kind of weird. Although, it is possible that she didn’t want to be in Flora’s shadow or in her surveillance the whole time.

- Studies? *groan* Why the fuck are they students again?!?!?! I hate this. But I like the fact that Griselda is back. It’s not the same without her.

- So... not just Bloom, but all the rest of Winx know who Thoren is? But Brandon doesn’t? You know, Brandon who is Sky’s best friend and squire? Yeah, right.

- “Barbaric yell”? Fuck you, too, you “spiritual” snob.

- Is that Nex? Please, tell me it’s not. He seems even worse than Roy. Who is instantly jealous even though he has no right to be since he and Layla aren’t dating. God, I really miss Nabu. He was such a mature and sweet guy. Exactly what Layla needed. (And why is Roy with the Specialists when that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever?)

- Great job, Tecna. Now Helia is probably gonna think that Flora is visiting some old boyfriend. You could have just told him she was seeing her sister. Though, I have to ask where the hell Flora has been all summer if not at home (since she hasn’t seen Miele in so long)? And from her own words it sounds like she hasn’t seen her since season 3 which is just ridiculous.

- You tell him, Layla. Though, that will only make it worse if they get together later because I do not expect the writing to be clever enough to imply that it was Layla who helped Nex (I presume) get over his pride and superiority complex.

- If Linphea college is so great, why didn’t Flora study there as well? Is it new? It has to be very new in order for that to be the explanation.

- Wait, they actually realized it’s Griffin? But why can she only speak in single words and not whole sentences? Roxy could make Artu talk like a person.

- Yes, they have to tell everyone else because it’s not like Cloud Tower is a whole castle floating in the sky that is probably visible from kilometers.

- Oh, wow. They bothered to give Miele a five-second transformation? I can’t believe it. How very generous of them.

- They actually managed to make the connection between the flying Cloud Tower and the trouble on the ground? I am surprised by their normal level deduction skills.

- Did the Legendarium just negate not only their spell, but also their powers? Wow. That is... actually kinda interesting even though I do not expect it to make a lot of sense when they bother to explain it.

- At least the Specialists caught Winx before they could fall and die. I actually like the fact that they all have to retreat. It was obviously hard on them even though they didn’t have their powers anymore.

- Oh, goodie. It’s Bloomix time. In case someone hadn’t realized that Bloom is sooooo special. She now gets her own transformation. It’s fun how they didn’t even bother explaining how it was possible for the Legendarium to extinguish all their powers.

6x04:

- Well, at least Stella’s enthusiasm can never be extinguished. But yes, just exercise in high heels, why don’t you? I am so sick of them never wearing comfortable shoes. Enough heels already! They need to wear something that is actually suitable for the activity at hand.

- Poor Kiko. At least Stella didn’t break something while pulling that stunt.

- So Thoren and Daphen actually know each other? Why is everyone acting so familiar with everyone else even though they shouldn’t know each other? I hate this. Also, Thoren doesn’t sound all that sincere. I mean, he probably is. It just doesn’t exactly sound like that to me.

- I am sick of them making Stella the most incompetent in everything. You’re telling me that Tecna that is always on her phone and computer is pulling off all the physical exercise with no problem but Stella that can probably run a marathon if there is shopping involved can’t? I am not buying it.

- I am so done with both Roy and Nex. But more with Nex. Roy is kinda jealous which is ridiculous because he isn’t with Layla but Nex is being a fucking asshole and I hate him so much. I really hope he changes if he is going to be with Layla. (He’ll have to. I don’t believe she would ever spare another glance at him if he remains like that and if she does, then the writers have completely ruined her.)

- I wish Daphne would go to the rescue mission as well. She was the one who figured out the whole way to save everyone.

- Miele was doing so well! She was so brave, fighting multiple opponents. She is great! She even has more interesting spells than Flora.

- Wait, basilisks? Aren’t they supposed to be like snakes? These look more like dragons. I know they said flying basilisks but still.

- The petrifying stares are kinda interesting. But we all know that no Winx is gonna get turned to stone so there is still no tension here. Cute Riven and Sky moment, however.

- Seriously? Bloom can withstand a Trix convergence on her own but Griffin couldn’t? Yeah, makes total sense. I have said this already but if Winx are obviously stronger than the teachers, why not just make them directors of the schools and be done with it? It’s not like anyone else is getting anything done anyway.

- Awww, Stella did the flip! Nice!

- That basilisk totally could have petrified Flora and the other fairies but, of course, it didn’t even try. Like I said, no fucking stakes whatsoever.

- Didn’t they already deal with the tree... whatever the hell they are (I am too lazy to check how you write that and, honestly, this show does not deserve the effort)? Why are there more? Also, she totally did not need to save Miele from falling because Miele has wings. She could have just went back into flight and Flora could have earned her Bloomix just for saving her from the tree thing.

- Okay, the Bloomix spells look better actually. I hope. Otherwise, this will really get on my nerves.

- Why weren’t the Linphea fairies using their wings? That could have saved them from being petrified. I think in flight it would be easier to dodge the rays than it would be while you’re running AND HAVING YOUR BACK TURNED ON THE BASILISKS. BECAUSE THAT IS FUCKING SMART.

- And talking about smart, Roy was an absolute idiot. He could have just whisked Layla away while he was on his hoverbike and been done with it. He didn’t have to get in front of her and get turned into stone. And what does Nex do? His sudden care for Roy made him all stupid as well and he got himself petrified too. Great fucking job! I see how amazing you are in your supposed area of expertise.

6x05:

- Aww, I love the way Stella pulled Layla out of danger. I am really starting to ship this. Could have gone without Layla asking her if she remembered the flip since she obviously did as Stella performed it just a couple of minutes earlier (but it was in the last episode so they have to even give a flashback!) but it was cute that they did it together. I don’t really think that their actions should have qualified them for earning Bloomix but anyway. I don’t mind that they transformed together because their dynamic is really cute and I am sinking in deep.

- Ah, yes. Bloom was fighting the Trix. Totally forgot that because there was no stakes to that fight whatsoever. I do like the aesthetic of Bloom being in a different transformation than Stella and Layla. We haven’t seen that since three seasons ago when the first Enchantix was won.

- How did Stella get inspired for THESE hats by the battle? This is so totally not appropriate wear for any remotely intense situation. At least she didn’t get sulky this time when the rest didn’t like her designs.

- They’re making Riven an asshole again. I am glad that they had Tecna also being busy with her own things. Honestly, I kinda feel like they’re making Musa too demanding when it comes to attention. And Tecna is right that her algorithm is quiet while Musa’s music isn’t. When you live with other people, you have to respect their space. However, you’d think that they’d resolved this issue years ago since they have been roommates forever. I do like the symbols on their door, though. It really personalizes the space.

- Oh, Daphne has friends! That is really cool! Though, I hope this girl is a magical creature that ages differently because otherwise, this doesn’t make sense. What they said about the long time they haven’t seen each other makes me hopeful.

- These pandemonium sprites look like rats. I am not impressed. Even if they have destructive screams. You’d think the Magic Dimension will have something more interesting. The legend of the four sisters from the Hallowinx episode was leagues above this both in complexity and in creepiness. They need to step it up a notch with the Legendarium. And they don’t even explain any extended history (if any) behind the legends which could have been a great way to worldbuild. But nah.

- I don’t understand what is Musa’s problem. Tecna is allowed to not enjoy herself. And Musa is acting as if if all of her friends don’t enjoy the place she loves, she will not be validated in her love for it. It’s getting annoying. Not to mention that the pixies are not helping. I forgot their only role is to clown around... Which by the way, we already have Kiko for.

- Okay, the thing with the sounds residing in the pandemonium cave is actually kinda cool. Still not sure how exactly Tecna and Musa defeated the sprites but it was cool to see them team up. I’ve always known that the two of them can combine to a very powerful result. And Tecna creating tech for Musa is super cute!

- Ooooh, Diaspro team-up with the Trix! I love it! And Diaspro and Icy circling each other looked like they were checking each other out. They just need to get Bloom to leave Sky and join them and it is going to be the most powerful OT3 ever. (Why is Diaspro still only in her Winx form, though. It has been six years (and possibly more depending on where the movies fit in the time line).)

6x06:

- Vortex of flames? And fire eaters? That finally sounds intense. Let’s just hope that it will deliver as much as that’s possible at this point in time. Also, I love the fact that Diaspro is invited to the event on Domino. She is a princess, after all, and it would be a good idea to try to smooth things out with her kingdom (since she and Bloom aren’t on good terms).

- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Daphne is getting crowned as the heir to the throne! Yessss! Good! I am so happy to hear this! And they’ve gotten rid of the ugly dresses. Though, you’d think that Daphne will also have a new dress that is special for her coronation.

- Well, Thoren has jumped on quite the fast horse. Which I know will keep being the case but... What is Sky’s problem? Is it that Diaspro is there? Or is it because of Thoren? They’re suddenly being inseparable.

- Yeah, I don’t think Bloom’s weakness is from sharing the Dragon Fire. It is supposed to be inextinguishable so it shouldn’t be weakened by a few sparks that she gave to her friends.

- Aww, Daphne, honey, we know you will do your best for Domino! You already have! The whole planet wouldn’t be here without you and your family wouldn’t be either. I am so glad she is finally getting the recognition she deserves.

- Yeah, okay, Thoren left Sky but that was years ago. People change. Though, considering who he’s grown up with (aka Erendor), I can see how that is a foreign concept to Sky. Not to absolve him of responsibility for being so quick to judge after all this time in which he hasn’t bothered to see Thoren. And besides, they should let Daphne make her own decisions. She is more than capable of protecting herself.

- “I just love love” Amore is every shipper ever. Probably why she is most tolerable to me from the pixies.

- This is bullshit. Bloom was born without Dragon Fire. She didn’t have any before Daphne gave it to her. She doesn’t need it to sustain her. Maybe to sustain her powers. But not her life. And back in season 1 when the Trix stole the Dragon Fire from her, she was just fine. She wasn’t passing out and stuff. Stop making inconsistencies just to have more drama, dammit!

- Those fire eater things look stupid. I hope they are more effective, at least.

- Love how Diaspro didn’t even get to have her transformation even though they didn’t have to draw her a new one. They just had to take the transformation sequence from season 1. But even that was too much. At least Sky has learned not to trust her anymore. I can’t believe this day came.

- I like to think that Oritel asking about the girls meant all of Winx not just Bloom and Daphne (even if he didn’t but I think that he did).

- So why did Daphne just stand there instead of blasting Diaspro before she could throw Bloom into the vortex? I do love Diaspro and her wicked good days, though. If only she would just stop caring about Sky. I mean, Icy is right there!

- So it is confirmed that Bloom is a pyromaniac now, right? She was falling towards a vortex of flames and thinking about how beautiful it is. I can def see her lighting things on fire just to see the pretty flames once she got old enough to use a lighter. What is that hydra in the vortex, though, and where did it come from?

- Of course, Bloom can defeat the hydra and survive the vortex even though she was too weak to walk on her own. Of fucking course! Makes perfect sense! (I just hope the Trix will take Diaspro on their side even though Bloom survived. Diaspro did her job and the Trix have been failing to kill Bloom for years. They can’t hold that against her.) Edit: Where the hell did Diaspro go? We never see her again for the rest of the first half of the season (and possibly the second half as well). This plot point was just abandoned midway and I hate it!

- They already danced. Nothing says that they can’t again but they’re making such a big deal out of it.

- I’m gonna say it here but I am really not a fan of the Bloomix designs. The separate elements are good on their own but combined all together are too much for me. I don’t know where in the outfit to look because every part of it is screaming for attention.

6x07:

- Wow. I guess Stella doesn’t have to worry about getting rid of spiders. She can just yell at them and they’re going to leave. That’s actually useful. Wish I could do that.

- Please, tell me that Faragonda is at least taking some interest in how things with Griffin are going. Not that I have doubts about how well Roxy can take care of her but I doubt that Griffin is feeling very comfortable with the whole ordeal. I think she’d feel better if she spent some of her time as a crow with Faragonda. (Also, why didn’t Faragonda try to break the spell on her? If she can’t, then how did anyone else?)

- I have to say that them saying the Library of Alexandria wasn’t burned but hidden is hurting me because I wish that could be true. At least then the books wouldn’t have been destroyed even though we still wouldn’t have access to them.

- Love it how Daphne’s class has only the Winx and some other fairies when it is convenient. Aka when the Trix need someone to pose as.

- Why did the Specialists only come to Alfea to wish Winx goodbye? They could have done that on the phone. And I really don’t like the way they are making me like Roy by having an even worse option there for Layla. But the gift was actually cool. At least he gets her to a certain level.

- What was the idea of Daphne taking an entire balloon for her and the pixies if the pixies aren’t even flying with the balloon? They’re flying on their own and are just keeping up with the balloon. She could have gone with Bloom and the pixies could have been in the other balloon with Winx.

- I thought Bloom used her fire to make the storm disperse but nope. She just brought the two balloons higher up. And I just got excited over nothing. Damn!

- Really? Cherie just solved this? On her own? Even though Winx couldn’t? Yes, I agree with the Trix. This is ridiculous.

- Of course. Where there is Egypt, there are mummies. Normally, I don’t complain about mummies as I love all things Egyptian but there isn’t one thing that Winx hasn’t managed to fuck up in the last couple of seasons so I am not thrilled about this development.

- Why aren’t the Trix attacking? They have a perfect opportunity. They could blast Winx in back as they deal with the mummies and finish them off. But that would be too reasonable a plan. They have to wait for Winx to get a handle on the situation because they can’t be bothered to move their asses and get something fucking done.

6x08:

- How is THAT going for their bandages? They just keep blasting the mummies.

- Really not a fan of the way Daphne’s magic appears to be elemental. I think it would have been cooler for her to have some other powers. Or at least have just one element (and I think water would have been more interesting).

- Why does light seem to work on the mummies? They’re dead! They shouldn’t care about light. Nor sleep for that matter! I was gonna say that rain would make more sense as it would make their bandages wet but that didn’t work, yet somehow sleep seemed to have an effect. At least for a while. The lack of logic in this is unreal.

- Chatta just found the oldest way for defeating a mummy - unwrapping it from the bandages. Has none of them watched any movies? That is literally everywhere! Even though it does not make sense either because under the bandages there is a dried up body and this should have been gruesome as hell, not successful.

- Why did Selina send the Sphinx after the city instead of after Winx? That seems like they wanted to cause some unnecessary destruction only to make the Sphinx look tougher. Like we don’t know they’re gonna defeat it.

- How can Bloom feel everything? This is getting preposterous.

- Well, of course, Bloom can also sense a diary that she has never seen. Because it obviously has the energy of a living person and she can feel it. Makes perfect sense, why are you asking?

- At least the Trix are pretty good at keeping up the charade as Alfea fairies. Despite Stormy’s almost instant fuck-up in the the previous episode. Though, if they were smarter, they would be studying Winx to find out how they beat them every time and then deliberately set out to prevent that from happening so that they can win.

- When did Selina get into the library? I know Acheron told her that she needs to find the diary but she managed to teleport to another planet and we didn’t even see it. Not to mention that he said he knows where she can find the diary, yet she doesn’t seem to be doing so well in her search for it.

- Of course, suddenly it turns out that Bloom had a friend in Gardenia that she has never ever mentioned before and no one knew nothing about. Makes sense. They did look cute together, though.

- Seriously????? Piff got the Sphinx?!?!?!?! The Trix are an absolute mood in those last two episodes. This is ridiculous... again.

- Yeah, sure. They’re just doing convergence left and right. And with Daphne. Not like that should be hard to pull off. And I hate to say this but it should have worked. They so totally don’t need Bloom in order for the convergence to happen.

- Originally, they were supposed to have only one try but whatever. And my guess was five letters because I thought he was only asking about the word “books”. I didn’t think it was supposed to be “those books”. But I was still close enough. And it wasn’t that hard a riddle.

- So the library didn’t get burned down. Winx fucked it up and now you can’t enter it anymore. Nice one! Yeah, successful mission for you. But you managed to send to hell the whole library.

6x09:

- “We’re getting to see the world”? Yeah, one country from one single planet. It’s not like they have been all over the Magic Dimension. Sure, they are totally impressed by Earth that has been shown to be behind on tech AND magic. This line would make sense if they were normal people from Earth. The way things are, it just sounds weird.

- They really have no better way to create danger and are using the pixies to mess with the balloons? Pathetic. Also, why is Daphne using water to stabilize the balloon? How does that make sense?

- They’re just making pointless filler. Stella could have given them the proper warm attire the first time around. There was no need for that ridiculousness. I cannot anymore.

- Oh, yes, suddenly Bloom’s rationalizing abilities peak and she is considering all the question marks around Selina being in the library. Right. Totally bought that.

- Well, at least the Trix are rocking the disguises and the undercover work. That is the breath of fresh air that I need.

- How are the pixies not dead? The Trix turned Griffin into a crow but the pixies are somehow putting up a fight against them? I am going to scream. This is unbelievably stupid. The Trix have the power to decimate the pixies with one hit. So why didn’t they? They would have done us all a favor.

- Yeah, it was so obvious that Piff would wake them up before the Trix could finish them off. It’s just too convenient.

- I see Icy is still struggling with her crush on Bloom that hasn’t let up since the third movie. She didn’t even try to fight. And after all of this, they didn’t even take the diary? Come on!

- They saved his restaurant? It never would have been endangered if they hadn’t shown up! And I didn’t see anyone putting any conscious thought into saving the restaurant... or destroying it for that matter.

- Speaking of their never ending journey, are you telling me that this is the still the day that they left Egypt? Please, do not tell me that they somehow managed to get from Egypt to China in hot air balloons in one day! The hell!

- Oh, yeah, Icy, blame Stormy. You totally had the chance to blow the Winx away but you decided to leave because you don’t actually want to be rid of Bloom. Just admit it instead of blaming Stormy for your leadership and decisions.

- Pearls of restraint? Seriously? How do pearls relate to restraint? This sounds ridiculous. Are you telling me that they are going for some ocean-fire opposition here? Thanks, I hate it!

- Of course, the pearls are easy as fuck to find. Why would they be hidden or protected or something? Pft!

- How the hell did he give them a live flower? And they just said it’s one of a kind and handmade. Where did it come from? That just... doesn’t make sense. Why do I even bother anymore? Not to mention that it is supposed to only grow in Gardenia but he totally had one that was still alive in China. I don’t even know what to say anymore. I have run out of reactions over how incredibly illogical all of this is!

6x10:

- How many colleges are there and why have none of them ever come up before? I should be glad that they are giving us some tiny bit of worldbuilding but what we get is half assed as hell. We don’t even know where these things are or how they even help the Trix.

- Yeah, the Specialists AND the palladins are training at Alfea because THAT makes perfect sense. But OMG! Riven humoring Kiko and being so cheerful? with him? Absolute perfection!

- I am sick of the pixies. They weren’t so annoying in seasons 2 and 3. What happened?

- Oh, they brought back the freshmen? I thought no one would remember about them. I am pleasantly surprised for the second time in two minutes and I cannot believe it.

- They also unspelled Griffin? Nice.

- Am I the only one that is weirded out by the fact that everyone is referring to them as “the Winx” now? They just called them “girls” before. And even the dragon tamer from the previous episode referred to them that way which was just weird af.

- Aaaaaand Alfea just gained another facility. Not like that takes space or anything. And they were like “Oh, yeah, there was totes a greenhouse in this school and Flora didn’t know about it because it was abandoned BUT... it’s in perfect shape.” The bullshit is unreal once again.

- Omg, Stella and Brandon are so adorable! He is instantly humoring her and just rolling with her theatrical performance. They were made for each other.

- Yes, of course, Sky is the only one that is picking on the “wrong” vibes Selina is emitting. Because he is just so instinctive and it would be an opportunity for drama between him and Bloom (further supported by her just instantly trusting Selina and breaking Alfea protocol for it). Edit: There was no fight between Bloom and Sky about Selina, I can’t believe it! At this point they would throw just about anything between them so I am surprised that they didn’t use the opportunity.

- Wow. Does Stella really have to change their outfits every time they step into a different room? And she just left Selina out. It would have been weird to change her clothes as well but leaving her out was also just... odd.

- Plant monsters again? Didn’t they fight similar plants at one point? I honestly don’t remember when that was anymore but the ones they already fought looked like sunflowers. Maybe in Gardenia when Diana took over? That sounds right.

- Ah, this explains why they unspelled Griffin. That way they had all Palladium, Griffin and Selina pretending to be with them just so everything can piece together in a convenient way.

- Well, this is the most consistent Bloom has been ever since season 3. Something happens and she is instantly running back to Gardenia. At least the Winx tried to talk her out of it (and aww, precious Stella even crying over it!). And okay, I get she is upset that she nearly got Flora killed (love how Selina will never answer for that even though it was one of the closest calls ever) but she just wanted to protect a friend. She couldn’t have known what Selina was planning. And leaving now after they were in such a rush to find Eldora seems very counterproductive and selfish or at least self-absorbed on her part. They still have work to do.

6x11:

- There’s a Bloom dopelganger at Cloud Tower? Why are they even accepting students? And why did that fairy decide to join them (also, the hair cages are the stupidest thing ever)? They didn’t even give her a reason to do that. I almost feel like they only did it to show it’s possible to switch from being a fairy to being a witch in order to set up Selina’s story. Not like Mirta ever existed or anything. Or Faragonda for that matter (and yes, they switched from being a witch to being a fairy but that implies that the opposite is also possible).

- What, Griselda now has a problem with classical music? But I can’t believe we are seeing Roxy after she is done being useful to the plot. And it was nice to see her in a class in the previous episode.

- Why did Stella need to give them wings? We can go an episode without being reminded that she’s into fashion. And I hate how they are making Winx fight the second Bloom is not there. How is training gonna help if they can’t lock up the Legendarium? That should be a priority!

- Oh, god, the filler is unbearable (so I’m skipping it) and it’s not even giving a good perspective on the emotional mess which I think was the point. They could have done so much in the half an episode they wasted. (Also, how come Layla ended up with Nex when she seems to have more in common with Roy or at least get along with him better?)

- Even the Trix know that Bloom runs back to Earth every time there are consequences for her actions that she doesn’t want to face. But why vampires? And they made it sound like the idea of vampires exists only on Earth. That seems kinda weird.

- And the flower is in Gardenia. I mean, I knew that because I remember parts of the whole Eldora thing. But still.

- Yes, Layla and Stella are the only ones that grew up as princesses so only they can try to be leaders when Bloom is gone. I have to say that that shot of all of them hugging with Kiko but without Bloom is literally perfect for the rewrite I would do that has Layla as the main character and her and Stella are dating. (Why the hell did Bloom leave Kiko behind? She has NEVER done that before!)

- Oh, they’re energy vampires? They don’t drink blood? Or that’s just a paralyzing spell? Oh, wait, no. It’s a hypnotizing spell. I do hate to admit that that seems to be one of the abilities of vampires but they have reduced them to just that? And kinda draining energy? Booooooooring.

- Wait, the vampires are suddenly shooting beams out of their eyes somehow. ‘Cause that makes sense.

- At least Bloom realized that the Legendarium brought the vampires to life. I was just gonna say that it’s dumb of her to not figure that out after so many episodes.

- Well, this episode was completely pointless and could have been easily cut. So could have been the next, I’m guessing. The pixies were pointless as well because Bloom was going to run into the vampires sooner or later and Winx were supposed to go to Gardenia anyway because the flower is there. There was no need for any of this, really.

6x12:

- Poor Mike and Vanessa. They have been threatened so many times because Bloom will not face her problems and drags them with her to Gardenia. And they are still never complaining about it, never even for a second wished that she hadn’t found out the truth about herself. They are so precious, I love them!

- If you can’t stay at your home, why did you barricade yourself inside it? The logic.

- Of course, she doesn’t have a complete plan. Why would she? She didn’t have to stop and fight them. She could have just kept flying to get them far, far away. It’s clear that she is their target. And that would have bought her time to think.

- And once again, Winx show up just on time to save her. Couldn’t have let the vampires take a bite or two... Oh, wait. They don’t bite. Why would they? Not like that is literally the MAIN thing to a vampire.

- Oh, come on! She’s acting like they have been apart for ages and she abandoned them forever. And her little speech is annoying me because she sounds like she had an epiphany and I call bullshit on that. She was moping right up until the battle and then she clearly wasn’t thinking about ANYTHING.

- Stella legit turned Bloom into a broom?!?!?! For what possible reason? And was she planning to sweep the streets with Bloom’s hair. Very inappropriate even if I would have had nothing against seeing that.

- Oh, yeah. Great idea to leave behind the transformations and go all casual. They might have been able to fight back otherwise and we couldn’t have had that. They needed to be “enslaved” in order for something to appear to be happening.

- What do you mean Stella’s address is Alfea college? Her address should be on Solaria. And why did she just not put Mike and Vanessa’s address? That’s the only Earth address she could have used. But no! Her fashion obsession had to be dragged back in but at least this time it served some purpose.

- “Solar halo”? That sounds so cool. But did the vampire really leave two pixies “guard” against a fairy and four more pixies? How does that make sense? Your math does not add the fuck up! I know you’re undead but you must have some brains left in there.

- Oh, yeah, and the sunlight even breaks the vampires’ spell BEFORE destroying the vampires. NO.

- They make me sick as well, Darcy, don’t worry. They really left enough time for the fashion show as well? I am getting sick of this fashion obsession when there is nothing else going on! There is no plot. There is no point to these episodes.

- She wants inspiration? She didn’t have enough of that when they were fighting all the goth vampires? Though, I have to say that I really like the designs! She really mixed them up and I am so happy to see Stella designing something with a goth streak because it works for one of my ideas.

6x13:

- This is the most important pizza on a TV show ever. But I am so happy to see how excited Mike and Vanessa are to have all the girls together. They have basically adopted all of them at this point.

- Does this episode intend to start at some point? 1/4 is already done and they have not done anything AT ALL!

- Oh, the touch of Selina and Bloom feels is the first interesting thing.

- Even Mike has noticed how convenient it is that everything is in Gardenia. But wait, Bloom had a drawing of the flower and she didn’t remember it when she first saw it? Wow! They are amping up the ridiculousness even more.

- Wait, why did Bloom keep saying that she’s Bloom and Eldora keeps ignoring that? Isn’t Eldora supposed to be the one that remembers her and Bloom should be the one to have her memories wiped or whatever? Also, Eldora’s cheerfulness is exhausting me when it is coupled with her chaotic energy. That post about Eldora being a drunk Faragonda is too real since Faragonda’s cheerfulness and positivity is a lot more peaceful.

- Weren’t there supposed to be no more fairies on Earth after the Wizards of the Black Circle? Then how come Eldora and Selina were just fine? That is stupid and contradicts the entirety of season 4 but, of course, no one cares about continuity. What is that? If it doesn’t make money, it’s not of interest.

- Yeah, Selina’s backstory makes no sense because she wasn’t after power. She was happy with Eldora and then all of a sudden, boom! She’s evil. Yeah, right. And where did the being the witch of snakes come from? She has never been shown to... oh, wait! That was somehow relevant to the finale, wasn’t it? Ugggggh!

- Lmaooo, the Trix are writing their own critique on the whole thing. Yes, it is all the same old song and dance. I wish they would get more interesting powers. And instead we’re getting Mythix that is both ugly and unnecessary.

- Why didn’t the Winx try telling the Trix that Selina is playing them? That would have made things different.

- “I’m so over the Legendarium.” We all are, Layla. We all are.

- So Eldora is the fairy of flowers? Aka the previous Flora.

- A bit responsible? Yeah, guess who would have never found the Legendarium if not for her. And leaving it unprotected where it could find Selina was so incredibly stupid.

Part 2 is here.

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ohgodwhy151 · 4 years

Text

Ereannieweek2020!

You’d think being in quraentine would give you plenty of time to write but alas I was wrong. Either way, enjoy day one!

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Birthday/Celebration

“What do you mean you have no idea? It’s tomorrow!” Ymir scoffed. “How does this happen every year?”

Annie swallowed the anger and embarrassment that rose in her throat and sighed heavily. “I’m asking for your help, if you’re gonna be an ass I’ll go ask someone else.”

Ymir leant back in her chair and threw her arms up. “Okay, okay. Since you asked so nicely. So. What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing,” Annie groaned. “That’s the problem.”

Resting her head on her hands Ymir hummed loudly. “Couldn’t go wrong with dinner, a movie and some drinks.” She shrugged.

“It’s not exactly a good birthday present is it.”

Ymir furrowed her brow. “I thought it was your anniversary.”

“It’s both. We got together on his birthday.”

“So it’s doubly important.”

Annie nodded. “So I want to make it… special.”

“Special or special?”

Blood rushed to Annie’s cheeks. “S-special I guess.”

“You’re not giving me a lot to work with.” Ymir sighed. “If it were Historia I’d walk up to her, pick her up and-”

Cutting her off Annie got to her feet. “I get it.”

“Just saying, some people like it when the other one takes charge.”

“That’s what you get for going to Ymir for advice.” Jean said as he cleaned the counter of his bar.

Annie let her head fall on the counter. “I just thought since she always does those big romantic gestures for Historia she might have some ideas.”

Jean shrugged. “She probably wants to keep those ideas secret. Besides you don’t need to do anything big like that. Eren’s head over heels for you.”

“I just don’t want him to think I don’t care or whatever. I want to do something nice, something really nice.”

“Knowing Eren,” Jean smirked. “He’d be happy spending an entire day sparring with you.” He scoffed. Taking a moment Jean stood to his full height and looked around the bar. “Listen, if it means that much to you then I can close early on a ‘random’ night for ‘maintenance’ or something and give you two some space.”

Picking herself up Annie shook her head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

With crossed arms Jean offered her a warm smile. “The offer’s always there, I know you’re not a massive fan of big parties so this place is all yours if you need it.”

“Why are you being so nice?” Annie asked with narrowed eyes.

“It’s Eren’s birthday,” Jean shrugged. “Consider it me being nice.”

As she gathered her things Annie mirrored Jean’s smile. “Thanks, I’ll make sure not to tell Eren.”

-------------------

“So let me get this straight. You want me to plan a special not-party for Eren.” Reiner gawked as he sat down at his kitchen table.

Annie rubbed her eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m asking for… advice.”

Ignoring his friend Bertholdt cupped his chin. “You have a venue, so to speak, so what did you have in mind.”

“I’m not sure, Ymir usually does these big gestures but that isn’t me.”

Bertholdt smiled. “How many years have you two been together now. Five years?” Annie nodded. “I think this is a good opportunity to have a talk.”

“A talk? Are you pregnant?” Reiner interrupted.

Doing their best to ignore him, Bertholdt and Annie sighed. “I’m talking about your future together.”

“F-future? We already live together.”

“I’m thinking a little more in the future.”

Reiner groaned. “Are you talking about kids or not?”

“I’m talking about marriage!” Bertholdt snapped. “I think you should propose.”

Annie’s cheeks turned a deep red too fast for her to hide the rising blush. “Propose? What are you talking about?”

Reiner hummed. “No, he’s right. You should. It would be a great birthday surprise.”

“We’re not talking about a birthday surprise, we’re talking about marriage.”

Standing tall Reiner grinned. “You’re not saying no.”

Annie looked between her two friends. “Getting married I… I never really thought about it.”

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulders. “Think about it now then. What do you think?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you love him?” Bertholdt asked.

Annie nodded.

“Do you like living with him?”

Annie nodded again.

“Do you want to be with him long term?”

Once again Annie nodded.

“So,” Bertholdt said with a deep chuckle. “Do you want to marry him?”

And Annie nodded.

-----------

Annie stared at the rings in front of her with no idea what she was looking for, she was surrounded by shelves stacked with gold and silver, she was flanked by rows of gemstones to the point where Annie could feel herself getting dizzy. She was silently begging for someone to come and ask her if she needed help.

“Annie? What the hell are you doing here?”

Turning on her heels Annie felt relief immediately flood through her body. “Hitch,” She sighed. “I’m… shopping.”

“For what? You getting married or something?” Hitch snorted.

Annie shrugged. “Maybe.”

Hitch froze in place, as if a bolt of lightning had struck her. All she could muster in response was a stuttered, “W-what?”

“I’m going to propose to Eren.”

“You?”

“Yeah.”

Hitch pushed her hair back. “Like down on one knee and everything?”

“That’s the thing,” Annie shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

Before answering Hitch pulled out her phone, typed a number and held it to her ear. “Marlow, we’re gonna have to cancel lunch,” She paused. “Something came up, something big.” She paused again. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“What are you doing?”

“Dropping everything to help you get married, isn’t that obvious.”

After that Hitch attached herself to Annie, together they scoured each and every ring, band and stone. Annie was worried that she would quickly become overwhelmed and exhausted but Hitch’s seemingly endless supplies of energy and optimism kept them both going.

“See, I think you want to go for a green stone, it’d match his eyes. Then you could get a blue one for you.” Hitch explained.

Annie blinked back her surprise. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this haven’t you?”

“Of course I have! If I plan my best friend’s wedding it’s perfect practise for when I get married. And I want you to have a perfect moment.”

“Thanks, I think.”

Hitch shook her head. “You can thank me by making me the maid of honor and throwing that bouquet my way.” She said with a wink.

The two of them spent what felt like hours going around various stores with Hitch taking the lead while barraging each and every employee with a seemingly endless list of questions. During one of Hitch’s interrogations Annie’s eyes wandered to a shimmering, icy blue stone fixed between two weaving silver bands. Reaching over she grabbed Hitch’s shoulder.

“I think I found it.”

Following her friend's gaze Hitch hummed. “I thought you were going to get him one that would match his eyes.”

Annie shook her head. “I’ll get him one that’ll match my eyes and I’ll have one that’ll match his.”

For a moment Hitch was stunned silent. “That's… actually a really good and romantic idea. Who are you?”

Annie couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she looked back to the topaz stone.

-------------

After buying the rings Annie could suddenly feel the weight of her decision looming over her shoulders with each step. As she walked back to the bar a seed of doubt planted itself in her chest and with each step it grew and spread through her entire body.

“What if this is too much?” She whispered to herself. “I’m just assuming he’ll say yes.”

For a moment she considered returning the rings and calling the whole thing off. As she was about to turn back Annie allowed herself to think of the future, of her future with Eren. When the two of them were together Annie felt like she could do anything, her insecurities and worries vanished in his warmth and confidence. As hope swelled in her heart Annie took a deep breath and reached for her phone.

“Eren, are you busy tomorrow night?” She asked with all the strength she could muster.

“I mean it’s our anniversary so not really.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “And your birthday.”

“Yeah but that’s not as important.”

Eren could hear her smile as she responded. “Either way, be at Jean's bar tomorrow night at seven.”

“Have I done something wrong? Why are you taking me to Jean’s?”

Annie bit her lips as she calmed herself. “Just be there. I’m staying with Hitch tonight. I’ll see you there.”

Once she hung up Annie let out a shaky sigh before making her way to Hitch’s home.

-----------

“So what’s your battle plan?” Hitch asked as she handed Annie a steaming mug of coffee.

After thanking her friend Annie hummed. “I’m not sure, getting down on one knee seems-”

“Cliche, I get it,” Hitch interrupted. “Given your… attitude I’d go for something straightforward and simple.”

Annie narrowed her eyes. “Simple meaning?”

“Take out the ring and ask him to marry you.” Hitch shrugged.

“Very simple then.”

Hitch shrugged. “You gotta think about Eren here as well so yeah. Very simple.”

“Doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“It doesn’t have to be romantic,” Hitch explained. “It just has to be special and that’s different for everyone. If you open up to him then I’m sure he’ll understand what you want.”

Annie sighed. “That sounds difficult.”

“With other people? Sure, you struggle,” Hitch said as she sat next to her friend and rested a hand on her shoulder. “But Eren’s different. Normally I wouldn’t say this to you, but be yourself.”

“Thanks… I think.”

“You’re welcome!”

----------------

The wait outside the bar felt like it would last forever as Annie poorly attempted to calm her shaking hands. She wasn’t sure if it was the cold, nervousness or excitement but Annie knew she was ready.

“Ann!” Looking down the street Annie watched as Eren ran towards her. “Sorry I’m late.”

Annie offered him a thin smile. “You’re here now,” She said, pulling him down by his collar to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday.” Taking his hand in hers she led him inside while clutching the rings in her other hand.

--------------

Once inside Annie reminded herself to thank Jean once she got the chance. The place was completely empty, the normally bright lights were dark, replaced by a series of candles that spanned the length of the bar and around each table.

“I… like what Jean has done with the place but don’t tell him I said that.”

Annie giggled. “Don’t worry, he’ll never know.” She said, taking him to the bar and sitting down.

“So what are we doing here?” Eren asked as he sat next to her.

Still holding his hand Annie took a deep breath “I wanted to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere we could talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Our future.”

Annie felt Eren go tense. “Good future or bad future?”

“Good, I hope.”

Eren sighed. “Okay, since it’s my birthday could you be a little more clear, you had, or still, have me kinda worried.”

“I’ve been talking to everyone,” Annie explained. “I was wondering what to get you for your birthday and our anniversary. I wanted it to be special. Ymir said I should take charge, Bertholdt and Reiner helped me figure it out, Hitch helped me plan it out and Jean gave me a venue. They all helped me figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“What I want. From you, from this relationship,” Annie said as she reached for the ring. “I want to marry you,” Once again Eren tensed up, as if his blood and frozen in his veins. He remained still as Annie revealed the shimmering blue stone and woven metal band. “Are you going to say anything or have you finally run out of things to say?” Annie asked with a nervous laugh.

Eren swallowed the lump in his throat. “You asked first?”

Annie nodded. “Yeah, like I said everyone helped me figure it out.”

“I guess I should thank them.” Eren said, his eyes still fixed on the ring.

“Even Jean?”

Eren’s eyes widened. “Yeah,” He sighed. “Even Jean.”

“You know you still haven’t technically answered.”

With shaking hands Eren held out his hand as Annie put the ring on his finger. “Is that a good enough answer?”

Annie felt her heart swell as she nodded. “Although I have one last question.”

“Anything?”

Annie laughed. “Are you okay with Hitch planning our wedding?”

#Ereannieweek2020 #ereaniweek2020 #Eren Jaeger #Annie Leonhardt #eren x annie

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Loki Baby Pt 18

Special thanks to Incaprincess for helping me think up how to take this part. Huge hugs your way for helping me out of my slump. :D

@theincaprincess, @alishlieb, @lilith15000, @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Harsh and fast your mind had drifted off and again you felt old rages and irritations flood back into the front of your mind. The world seemed to drift into the distance as the savage thoughts came forward. All the way back to the end of the universe where you had left Clara Oswald and Ashildr. One hard punch to keep your godfather from losing his memories and to follow the orders of the Council on Gallifrey to retrieve the stolen Tardis. She wanted to wait out eternity before facing her death so there you left her with her friend and sent the Doctor on his way while you returned the stolen Tardis now in pendant form you dropped back at the Council. The sting of your knuckles still there while you peered up at a painting of one of the old battles Odin had gone on.

Turned around Jack caught that same lingering gaze he knew he himself had been locked in. A common side effect of creatures lost to this path, creatures left to assume they were monsters one time or another, cursed beings to only bring about pain and suffering. “Where are you?” Jack whispered folding his arms around you from behind.

Lowly you muttered, “Punching Clara Oswald.”

Chuckling to himself he replied, “She broke the rules.”

“It was more the landscape of the end of the universe. That cluster of columns looks familiar.”

Jack’s head tilted and he smirked, “Ah, just like Trespan, that statue looks like your great great uncle Hector.” His head turned and he asked, “Loki, is this Trespan?”

Loki turned from the control panel he was explaining to Peter on how to operate the viewer to a database of film reels to see a battle Thor had mentioned and came closer asking, “Trespan?”

Jack nodded and asked, “Three suns, pink, blue and green, got about five rings and these huge temples. Giant screeching hippo like creatures that can fly, two month swooping seasons, absolutely dreadful, not really sure why they stayed there to be honest..”

Loki’s brows furrowed a moment and he said, “We call it Xquiem, but yes, father did mention it was a dreadful place. You know it well?”

Jack turned saying, “That statue is my great uncle Hector. Took Jaqi there once as a kid.”

“They do have spectacular burritos though.”

Loki wet his lips, “Was this before or after father annihilated the planet?”

Sharply you giggled saying, “Planet looked like that when he landed, worst he did was switch on the recouping generator,” that had Loki’s brow inching up, “Whole planet’s stuck in a reversing timeline, Odin landed in its decaying age, like a reverse acid rain, soon as they build something it crumbles to dust and slowly goes back to new again. Whole generations in their elder days seeing their towns and homes anew, there is beauty in growing old. They remodel in their final years so the next generation could begin to see the beauty too. But they were invaded, before Odin and locked in a stasis, which he kicked back on again, hence the trouble in trying to conquer.”

Loki chuckled, “Makes me wonder how much of father’s tall tales became his legacy easily mended.”

Out his hand stretched and he said, “I promised you view of our inner silver falls. Now sapphires, but stunning all the same.” Making you smirk and lay your hand on his with jack grinning in his path after you.

Through the Palace and out into the open swaying green fields between golden fields of grains you followed the eager King towards a distant stream at the end of a trio of water falls. The cool silver water shifting to clear streams splitting below with floating clumps of silver separating from the fall collected by sifters and the giant octupi under the surface shimmered in varying colors circling the stone path you walked across. Crouching down your hand reached under the water and a baby gladly coiled around your fingers allowing you to lift it and look it over while Peter did the same further down chuckling as two adults climbed up his legs.

Loki, “They do enjoy the attention. They won’t hurt us, actually have secretions we collect for some of our medicines and the sifters perfect their nest conditions.”

Jack, “How come there aren’t more?”

Loki, “We have more in falls farther South. Far larger, less useful for medicines but they do keep the walrus from taking over our grazing pastures.”

A faint ring turned your head and you stood asking, “You hear that?”

From your palm the baby’s skin flaps between its tentacles opened and it leapt from your palm to float back down to the water and Loki moved closer to your side peering upwards pointing at a floating cube, “What is that?”

Looking from him to the cube his finger was aimed at you let out a giggle, “Mail.”

Loki, “It looks like a tesseract.”

Smirking up at him you reached out claiming the box saying, “And who do you imagine gave your people the tech to protect that infinity stone, I suspect Odin claimed that too.”

Glowing brightly in your palm, the marking coated box that began to whisper, though your grin dropped and you rolled your eyes making Loki smirk at Peter’s waist deep walk to you asking, “That like an old tape recorder?”

“Something like that.” Turning to look at Jack you huffed out, “We have to go to Church.”

Loki, “An actual church?”

“Not the sort you would assume. It’s the base for the Papal Mainframe.”

Jack, “Wonder what it could be. Tasha knows better than to write us without reason.” He looked to Peter, “Her and the missus hate one another.”

“Can’t be good,” Looking to Loki you asked, “How comfortable are you with nudity?”

Peter looked over you three asking, “Nudity?”

Jack, “Can’t go to church with clothes on.” Leading the way back to Precious with Peter timidly following after you only to relax at Jack’s saying, “Don’t worry, you can stay in the ship.”

Peter nodded and with K9 trotting to join you eyeing the message in your palm stating, “There does not seem to be any underlying messages encoded.”

“No,” Through the door you led the way saying, “Precious, we’re off to Church.” Triggering her console to light up and begin to hum and you glanced at Peter, “We’re gonna go change, if you go through the green door you can give my arcade a whirl.” His brows inched up, “Takes virtual reality to a whole new level.”

His lips parted and K9 stated, “I shall guide you through the interface,” trotting to a hall on the right leading Peter in his excited path to see what your arcade was like.

Into your costume room you went and gripped the bottom of your shirt up over your head you pulled folding it to leave on a stool saying to Loki, “I’ll do my best not to stare.”

In the bunching of his own shirt he pulled up over his head onto his shoulders and arms to himself he chuckled trying not to look your way seeing your shorts being added with your panties to the pile over your bra. Jack took notice of his blush and said, “Feel free to stare my way all you like.” Only making the King chuckle again and undo his trousers to add to his own pile hearing Precious humming to you warning of how close she was getting.

Back to the control panel you went settling the message on the console sending off a warning pulse of your arrival causing their gate to open for you to land in their docking bay. Curiously eyeing the ship Loki stepped out behind you with Jack exiting first, from the lines of uniform wearing men to your back he took in all he could of your figure under your loose waist length curls you were brushing over your left shoulder on the side your father was on. The motion only luring Loki to steal a glance your way from the corner of his vision.

“Bluejay.”

“Tasha Lem, you wrote?”

Flatly from a cold gaze at Jack, who was glaring at her in return, “I am surprised you came without your crypt keeper.”

Jack, “My wife isn’t the only one with trick blades, Tasha, get to the point or I’ll give you a new hole in your head to go with that Dalek probe.”

“Perhaps I might show you what my weapon can do.” She snarked back.

To which you replied, “Please do I enjoy a good conductor.” Her eyes snapped back to you seeing the lightning flickering in your eyes matching the currents flowing between your fingertips.

Straightening up she inhaled deeply and said, “Had I been allowed to contact the Doctor I would have, but it was addressed to you.” From a floating tray she lifted a newspaper you claimed and opened flipping to the classifieds.

Straight through the French printed ads for nurses and maids for households you spotted one calling for a Bluejay for a Blueberry Bellerophon. “Oh what is the little tyrant up to now?” Jack glanced at you as you turned saying, “Napoleon.”

Loki turned glancing up seeing you three inside Precious walking back to the costume room to get dressed again, “We are after a tyrant?”

Jack, “More like a person who irritated him.”

“Or the one irritating him.”

Loki nodded then glanced back at the door, “Is that normally,”

You patted his bicep saying after wiggling into your panties, “We never really got along. She was one of Doctor’s flings, liked to parade her way around his ship flying it where she wanted after he lost one of his wives and hit a slump.”

Loki watched you hooking your bra and strolling around him to find a pair of pants while the duo got back into their own pants. The King asked watching you bounce a pair of black jeans up, pausing at your thighs with a huff, “Damnit Doctor…stealing my good pants.” Pushing them down you stepped out of them and kicked them away turning back to burrow under a long rack of shirts to dig in the cubbies between that and the skirts, “Grumpy twig of a man.”

Loki chuckled and his smile doubled at your pulling out another pair, “Ah ha.” You unfolded, lowering to bounce into and nip at your lip in zipping and hooking the button before turning in a finger wiggling browse through your collection of sweaters to pull on a baggy forest green one you added a grey vest over it. Matching long socks and tall boots were next to be pulled over your tight jeans as the men finished adjusting their shirts.

Loki, “Will we be requiring weapons?”

“Most likely, no. He’s not as imposing as he seems by his reputation.”

Out to the main hall you led the way only to see Peter wide eyed sliding into the hall ruffling his fingers through his hair, “King Kong, millipedes, everywhere.”

With a smirk you said, “Ya, really turns out to be more like Skyrim than a four hour action shooter. Full immersion.”

With a nod Peter wet his lips asking, “Church, went well?”

Jack, “We got a message to head to HMS Bellerophon.”

Peter’s brows furrowed a moment muttering the name then said, “Sounds French? HMS, a ship?”

Loki, “Apparently we are to see a tyrant named Napoleon.”

That dropped Peter’s jaw and he asked while you showed the page to K9, who was scanning it for any more messages, “Napoleon?! I thought we could only visit the city and fly over a couple battles, not actually go see the man himself!”

Your head tilted a moment, “Well, technically we can meet him, he’s just not the most hospitable. Hence the help message.”

K9, “This message has Corsair’s numerical code etched into the reverse image of the message behind the one calling for aid.”

Lowly you muttered, “Figured as much. Anyone else would prefer Hamilton or Hendrickson over Napoleon any day.”

Jack, “Can’t imagine why she would be calling for aid.”

You shrugged moving to the control panel eyeing the signals flowing across the screen making your brows furrow, “It seems they’ve fired a cannon at her Tardis.”

Jack let out a laugh, “Oh, no doubt the tyrant will be in pieces when we land.”

Seeing Loki’s confusion Peter broke into a full on description of the tyrant in question and a bit on his reputation while you steered your ship to hover beside Napoleon’s, “Alright, bit of a hop.” You said walking to the door you opened revealing the scent of smoke and salt water on the breeze along with voices and orders through the ship. Into your dangling hand K9 passed you your screwdriver sheath you pocketed then hoped out onto the railing and onto the deck with him at your side.

Behind you the trio hopped down and past the parting soldiers clearly recognizing you and frightened from your ship appearing from nowhere that shut and shifted to settle around your neck. Straight to the door for the Captain’s quarters you walked following the familiar female voice shouting curses at the men around her. Once you were in her sights the dark haired hazel eyed woman relaxed in her bindings saying, “Bluejay.”

The name had the men turning to puff up with guns shifting to you inhaling sharply while K9 shot a laser off to burn her binds from your side. “Corsair, you know we weren’t supposed to come back to these waters this decade past shielded overhead scouting, you set the terms.”

She fired back in a pop up to her feet, “I wouldn’t have but he stole my muffin tin and he’s lying about it and blasted a cannon ball at my ship!”

The man in question stood with his arms crossed leaning against his desk only to inch up his chin smugly when your gaze hit his in the arching of your brow, “We’ve talked about this.”

Shaking his head he released his arms to wave a hand in the air through Peter’s subtle slip away closer to Napoleon’s side, “I do not know this muffin you speak of.”

“Leader of the French Naval Forces doesn’t understand muffin, got it.” Lowering your gaze to K9 at Corsair’s feet you said, “K9, scan the room please,” after a moment your fingers rose to your pendant, “Copper, if you and your family wouldn’t mind searching the rest of the ship for a muffin tin.” Around you the giant floating otters appeared and soared off through the ship luring screams from the frightened sailors in Napoleon’s smug stance stiffening.

Leaning sideways in his own interrogating gaze he muttered to Peter, “This is him? Hardly a threat to me.”

Peter smirked replying, “You and me both.”

Napoleon’s resolve hardening by the moment through the growing sound of shouts and things being rummaged through while Peter got to his side and out of his view made Jack smirk seeing him measuring himself against the man with his hand and capturing the result on his phone with a picture. Once the man’s head turned Peter flashed a grin and hopped over the desk to walk around to Corsair’s side giving her a grin as well. Peering down at him she said, “You’re new.”

Peter said, “My second trip really. Just came from Asgard.”

Corsair, “I love Asgard, have you seen the Truffle fields?”

Loki said, “Ah, those were lost when the Eastern shore caught fire.”

Her grin sank, “Oh, you look familiar.”

Jack said, “King Loki of Asgard.”

Corsair pointed at him saying, “That’s it, the resemblance is uncanny, haven’t been in ages.”

K9 completed his final circle of the room stating, “Search results, negative.”

Napoleon, “See, there-,”

Through the door Copper and his brothers flew, three of them holding tins that Corsair came to inspect, the one on the end she said pointed to, “This one’s mine! See, my snake!” She said causing the other two otters to hurl the tins through the door at the shouting Frenchmen silencing in the attack, to your side they flew and vanished to enter your ship to be fully protected again, proudly chattering amongst themselves while the confused Frenchmen wondered at your flying creatures.

Napoleon broke his silence at her shaking the tin in his face, “No muffin tin? You pint sized puff of hot air!”

Aloofly he replied after a purse of his lips, “Ah, that is muffin? I thought it was for soap.”

A crack left Corsair in her near lunge for Napoleon Jack ended in his arm looping around her stomach to keep her from killing the man, “The fuck! Soap?! I’ll turn you into soap!”

With a sigh you turned while she was carried out of the room back to the deck and giving him the ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture you made your own way out, “Keep it in line Bonaparte.”

At Loki’s side you strolled across the deck picking up your pace to make the hop up onto the rail and into your now hovering ship again releasing a whistle and wagging your finger you said, “Come on Cosmo, we’ll patch you up.”

At that a smoking flamingo on a stick that was hiding in the mast lowered and zoomed in through your door that closed behind you making Loki chuckle. “Camouflage I take it?”

“He’s usually a giant serpent, must have hit it just right to jam him into a flamingo yard ornament.”

Corsair huffed saying, “You should have let me throttle him.”

Jack said helping to straighten her long skirt’s outer layer, “You know he’s due to die in soon anyways.”

She huffed again, “Not soon enough.”

Loki said, “If you require time for repairs you could join us on Asgard.”

Corsair said, “Ah, I’m not technically allowed to leave the planet for a week still.”

Loki glanced at you as you said, “After a Time Lord heals or regenerates there’s a courtesy grounding for all Tardis except for that Time Lord once they are recovered.”

Corsair, “Heard you took a nasty hit in that Reaper scuffle back in the 40’s. You alright?”

You nodded, “Just a nick to a nerve. Needed a rest. You sure about lingering?”

She nodded, “Yup, don’t mind me I have a poker game to get back to. Just got the call on my way back to my castle from a poker game with Ivan the Terrible, got kicked out of town, apparently I was terrorizing him. Imagine that.”

You giggled and Jack said, “Always did have thin skin.”

Peter, “So Napoleon is a thief and Ivan the Terrible is a ninny?”

With a giggle you said, “Wait till you meet Alexander the Great, obsessed with lemons, and I mean obsessed.”

Corsair giggled as Cosmo gave Precious the coordinates to their castle hideaway in Norway, “Do try to hide any glitter from him, always ends badly, always.” Leading the way over to your armchairs she asked Peter, “So, when are you off to next?” Her eyes drifting over to you in your cross legged lean into Loki’s side weaving your arm and hand with his stirring a curious smirk across her lips.

Peter pursed his lips a moment and he said, “Well if you’re talking Alexander maybe we could drop in on King Leonidas in Sparta.”

“Ooh, nice choice, however, I do have to warn you, it’s not like in the movies, he was nearly 60 when he died. Not all buff men in leather bikinis and crimson capes ripped to no end.”

For a moment he paused and Jack stroked his back as he said, “I feel, so betrayed.”

Each detail of the film was gone through and scoffs grew while Jack smirked chatting with Loki who was clearly not caught up to that section of history yet. Yet smoothing his hands over his face Peter grumbled, “This is just like when I heard in school there was no Santa Clause.” The pause and wide eyed gaze when he looked your face over was priceless as he shot out, “There is?!”

Corsair giggled out, “Why wouldn’t there be?”

“Although his preferred name on Earth is Sven, but he does operate on a belief system that is time sensitive and shielded to appear like parents do the work because they can only spend so much time on each child. Like, in films and such where the mom clearly signed dad’s name but mom is just smiling and confused swearing she only bought two gifts but there’s three and she keeps saying open it so she can find out what is inside to try and remember buying it. Things like that.”

Practically vibrating Peter let out a squeak folding his hands together on his lap as you glanced at Loki’s watch and said, “You know, we could catch him on his off season if you wanted to meet him.”

Jack, “Just don’t complain about presents you didn’t get, does not end well.”

Peter glanced between you, “How does it go?”

Corsair giggled, “He sort of explodes.”

“Rebuilding the shop is such a chore so we try to avoid that.”

Peter nipped at his lip, “maybe not today, I did agree to go to Sif’s partner’s musical show.”

Loki, “Ah, yes, mother did mention that.”

“Take your time, we can hang out for a few days give you some time to think it over.”

One vast castle later and back to Asgard you went drawing a relaxed sigh from Queen Frigga on her balcony staring at the spot you had left not four minutes ago. A calming wave from Loki came with his guiding you and Jack up to the sitting room with tea ready for you all as Peter swung off to meet up with Sif and her partner to introduce him to the other musicians.

Loki released your hand to lean in and kiss Frigga’s cheek, “Sorry mother, a distress call came from another Frey in the past. Quite amusing, the French have a tiny tyrant in their past, a Napoleon, who has a fondness for kleptomania.”

Frigga chuckled, “Well, I am glad it was not Thor,”

Loki’s brow inched up, “Why would it be Thor?”

She replied, “He would be missing you terribly. Heimdall keeps me up to date on his progress.”

Loki, “I could always send word that he could send for Rocket if he wished for a visit.”

Valkyrie passing by paused stating, “I could send the message if you wished, Your Majesty.”

Frigga, “That would be lovely, thank you. Both my boys back in time for the equinox.”

Loki chuckled weakly, “No doubt he will be glad for the ale and old faces to comfort his next few months on Midgard.”

Turning to you he claimed your hand again showing you the waiting tea, easing you into your chair beside his.

#Loki x Reader OC

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