#THE PRIEST WOULD BE A HOSTAGE

[medouse]

does anyone remember the ancient memes of like. that audiostalker g*me gr*mps edit. the one where theyre yelling "no" over and over? strong suspicion thats going to be lavernes internal thoughts during a fight. theyre a face and a healer not a tank. YOU hit it and dont let it hit me 💙

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[iamatinydinosaur]

🌲John Dory🌲

First Encounter

It wasnt any normal day. Today was Bridget and Gristle's wedding. You and Poppy were super pumped for this. The two of you have been helping Bridget plan her big day for a month. You flew into Bridget's room with the younger pink troll. "Bridget how you feeling?!" Poppy shouted jumping up and down. You smiled smoothing out your dress.

"I'm so excited! I can finally marry the man I love!" The Troll and Bergen giggled together. You smiled sadly. You're so happy for the two of them finding two people they can love unconditionally. However, you've been feeling empty. It just felt embarrassing. You're 34 and still aren't even close to settling down. "Anyway let's sort out your dress!" You shouted clapping your hands together.

The next 30 minutes was trying different dress styles out that Satin and Chenille put together. You and Poppy cringed at every dress. You sat down on Bridget's bed. "Why won't anything work?" Bridget muttered feeling discouraged. You were about to answer when Poppy squealed making you yelp and fall off the bed. "Satin! Chenille! Follow me! We need balloons." Poppy ran out of the room with the two joined trolls following after her. "While they're gone let me do your hair and fix your veil." You smiled at the Bergen, jumping on her shoulder. "Thanks Y/N." Bridget smiled up at you as you got to work.

Time skip

You stood with Poppy and Branch watching Bridget float down in her balloon wedding dress. When you saw it you hid your cringing since Bridget loved it so much, also you knew Gristle would love it. You watched Poppy run over complementing the bergen before popping the dress, revealing the white version of the outfit she first wore on hers and Gristle's first date. You liked this outfit better. You looked over at Poppy hugging Branch's arm watching the ceremony. (The fact RuPaul plays the priest Miss Maxine make love the movie even more!!)

"Stop the wedding!" Everyone jumped turning around seeing a troll jump down. You squinted at the trolls, the sunlight blocking your vision. He jumped down. You eyes widen. That John Dory from Brozone. When they were first a thing you had a massive crush on him. "Sorry for the interruption I'm just looking for a troll called- Baby Branch!" John ran over. You watched the interaction unfold with Poppy. You could tell she was starting to get protective of her boyfriend. When John smacked him on his 'Junk in the trunk' you couldn't help but snicker, earning a glare from Branch. You were too busy making fun of Branch and him having a go at you to that you didn't John staring at you with a slight blush.

You turned back around as John started to explain that Floyd was taken hostage by Velvet and Vaneer. Poppy and Branch decided to go along. "Y/N come with us." Poppy asked taking your hands. "Huh, I shouldn't. I don't want to get in the way." You said looking at the two brothers. "The more the merrier and we need all the help we need." John said smiling. You bit your lip weighing out the pro and cons. "Okay." You said smiling back at him.

"Excuse me, I don't want to wait any longer to get married to the love of my life!" Gristle exclaimed taking Bridget's hand in his. She smiled as a chorus of "aws" could be heard. You all watched as Miss Maxine pronounced them Husband and Wife. You watched as Bridget pounced on Gristle kissing him. You watched with Poppy smiling widely, watching your friend finally get married.

You all bid farewell to everyone setting off to find the other members of Brozone and to save Floyd.

A/N: I haven't written in years damn. I hope you like the first one shot. Especially if you're an John Dory lover.

@pendephoebe

[amateurvoltaire]

Wait a minute, Napoleon praised the Vendée resistance?... Why....?

Hi! Thanks so much for your question!

Yes, Napoleon did show a certain admiration for the Vendée resistance, though this was mostly for practical reasons: he wanted them to like him. Why? Because they were a semi-metaphorical powder keg! Throughout his reign, he approached the Vendée with extreme caution, often using a carrot-and-stick method to keep the region in check. The flattery was part of the "carrot."

Unsurprisingly, this cautionary attitude existed long before he was in power. Napoleon’s initial stance towards the West (1) was one of deliberate neutrality. Essentially, he avoided it like the plague. Since 1795, when he refused his appointment to the Army of the West, he consistently steered clear of the region’s affairs despite repeatedly stating that peace there was essential.

Why so passive? My guess is that he saw it as career suicide. Nothing good ever came to generals who tangled with the West...

By the time Napoleon became First Consul in 1799, the West was still a problem—a hotbed of rebellion, in fact. The Law of Hostages (2), the deportation of refractory priests, and conscription had stirred things up enough that Charles d’Autichamp and others were raising armies. Although this uprising fizzled out by November, it was a reminder that the region was still volatile.

From a strategic viewpoint, the West also represented a vulnerable border for France, especially with the ever-looming threat of English intervention. Controlling it was necessary to prevent foreign interference, whether driven by émigrés or other factions.

Politically, the Vendée was a glaring reminder of the revolutionary regimes’ failures (3) and became an emotional anchor for both royalists and revolutionaries. The French, weary of war, had seen two failed peace efforts in the region. The first attempt, from December 1794 to June 1795, collapsed over fundamental disagreements about religion and loyalty to the Republic. By May 1795, Vendéen leaders, bolstered by the Anglo-émigré alliance and promises from the Count of Artois, reignited conflict. The second peace attempt, led by General Hoche from 1796 to 1799, initially showed promise, but the coup of 18 Fructidor sabotaged his efforts, and by the summer of 1799, things were back to square one.

In short, achieving peace in the Vendée was important but elusive. Successfully doing so would be a huge PR win for the young First Consul. And Napoleon definitely loved his wins.

His immediate dilemma was how to secure lasting peace. Six years of repression had proven useless. As such, he turned to diplomacy, carefully crafted laws, a hefty dose of charm, and a focus on economic recovery.

Napoleon’s previous neutrality paid off by earning him a decent amount of public trust in the region. And, whether he genuinely believed it or not, flattering the Vendéens by praising their military prowess and describing the conflict as "le Combat des Géants” helped. This, along with his correct understanding that religion, not royalism, was the crux of the rebellion, earned him the support of key figures like Abbé Bernier.

Economically, Napoleon took a "throw-money-at-the-problem" approach. He launched an ambitious reconstruction programme, allocating millions of francs to rebuild roads (4) and houses and even create a new city (5). Alongside this, he doled out aid to the needy, offered grants for rebuilding, prioritised education, gave tax exemptions, and moderated military conscription. He was focused on rebuilding the region and erasing as many of the markings of war as he could. His propaganda visit to the area in 1808 basically sought to ingratiate him further with the locals by showing interest in their history and the war.

But despite these gestures, Napoleon remained cautious. His reconciliatory actions were paired with close surveillance of former Vendéen leaders and potential troublemakers. For better control, he also attempted to co-opt the families of former Vendéen commanders into his army, though with mixed results. For example, Louis de La Rochejaquelein (6) dodged service by pleading poor health and a large family. At the same time, his brother Auguste wasn’t so lucky, ending up as a sub-lieutenant under threat of imprisonment. Meanwhile, Charette’s nephew Louis joined Napoleon’s honour guard, only to later be arrested on suspicion of plotting. Talmont’s son was also a sub-lieutenant. Others, like Guillaume Faugaret (7)  and the Viscount of Scépeau (8),  were allowed to retreat into public life, becoming mayors and avoiding overt political involvement.

In short, Napoleon was trying really hard to win these people over—for entirely pragmatic reasons. Despite his flattery and attempts at charm, the region remained difficult to control. Don’t get me wrong, he arguably did better than the regimes before him, but incidents like the Lead Affair, the rise of Le Petit Église, and various plots showed that the West was still a risky and volatile region.

Notes

(1) The conflict went beyond the department of the Vendee and encompassed most of the north-west of France.

(2) The Law of Hostages, passed by the Directory in 1799, allowed for the detention of relatives of émigrés or rebels as "hostages" to ensure their good behaviour. If any anti-revolutionary actions occurred, these hostages could be fined, imprisoned, or even deported, effectively using them as leverage to maintain order.

(3) Fun-fact: since 1793, every year , one government or another would announce the end of the war in the Vendee, only for it to start again…

(4) One of the main reasons why the various insurgencies were so successful were because the whole region was mostly forests/marshes and had very few roads, and those roads were bordered by bushes in which the insurgents would hide and wait for the republican armies.

(5) In 1804, Napoleon decreed the creation of a new city of 12,000 to 15,000 inhabitants at La Roche-sur-Yon, which was named Napoléon. This wasn’t a vanity project but  was part of his strategy to establish regional administrative control⁠.

(6) Louis and Auguste de la Rochejaquelein were the brothers of the late Henri de la Rochejaquelein. Louis was married to Lescure’s widow, of Memoirs fame.

(7) Guillaume Faugaret was one of Charette’s former leuterrants

(8) He was the brother-in-law of Bonchamps

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: mentions of/hints to past abuse.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Your brother, Uhtred, has just returned from his journey north, and he has brought back a shy but rather handsome Dane.

word count: 1,8k.

note: this was supposed to be a one-shot, but our boy really deserves all the love, so there will be at least another chapter.

You have my word.

Part 1. [part 2] [part 3]

You hate when he calls you that, but he had been gone for months and you were that happy he had returned safe, so you decided to not say anything this time.

'Brother!' you called out and ran towards Uhtred as he climbed off his horse.

'Little sister!' Uhtred smiled, and he embraced you.

You told him your name and the Dane looked up at you, nodded, and looked back down to his feet again.  You studied the Dane while Uhtred made a whole speech to him about how you were off limits, and that if he would try something with you, Uhtred would dismember him.

'Word had spread that there was some trouble with Kjartan's men?'

'Yes,' Uhtred said, 'we had some spies. But I killed them all. Except for that one,' he cocked his head towards a Dane, who was across the village's square, and you followed his eyes.

'You kept a hostage?'

'No, he's my servant.'

'So you got yourself a pet then?'

'No, I will train him to be a warrior, I have a feeling he might be good eventually.'

'Brother,' you sighed, 'how do you know he will not betray you?'

'Sister,' Uhtred said seriously, 'he asked to serve me. He promised me his loyalty. He has a fighting spirit in him, yes, but for now he seems rather harmless. He's Kjartan's bastard son, and he wants Kjartan dead as much as I do.'

'I hope you're right,' you said.

'I am,' Uhtred smiled, 'Sihtric! Come here, boy!' he called out, 'I will show you.' The Dane came running across the square.

'Lord?' he panted, and he held his head down.

'Sihtric, I want you to meet my sister.'

You saw that Sihtric was very nervous, shy and obedient. He was tall, a little thin but still quite muscular. He was dressed in leather armour and he carried a knife and a sword. You saw he had bruises, recent cuts, dried blood and old scars on his face, yet you thought he was very handsome.

Later that night you stopped by the alehouse. Uhtred celebrated his return, so the place was packed. You had been there for about an hour and constantly found yourself looking for the Dane, with no luck.

'Do you understand?' Uhtred asked after his speech.

'Yes, lord,' Sihtric said.

'Good, now go and take care of the horses.'

'Yes, lord.' 

'See? Harmless,' Uhtred chuckled as Sihtric ran away. He looked back at you and saw you were slightly frowning at the running Dane.

'Sister,' he said firmly.

'What?' you rolled your eyes.

'You have a look.'

'What look?'

Uhtred sighed, 'A look that I do not like.'

'Then you shouldn't bring back cute Danes,' you teased and gave Uhtred a push.

'I did not,' he said. You shrugged at him and walked away with a smile.

'He is not cute!' Uhtred yelled after you.

You got up and walked outside, enjoying the cool, fresh air. You looked around, but it seemed like everyone was either asleep or inside the alehouse, for the place looked deserted.

'You didn't invite the Dane?´ you asked Uhtred, and you rested your head upon his shoulder.

'You mean Sihtric?' Uhtred asked, slurring his words a little. He clearly had a few too many.

'He was here before,' he continued, 'I think… I don't know where he went. Or if he was here.'

'Should I look for him? What if he's up to something?'

'Maybe, little sister, you should,' he smiled, and you punched his shoulder.

You didn't know where Sihtric stayed at night, you hadn't asked Uhtred, so you decided to just take a little walk. You didn't really think the Dane was up to something, but you found it strange that he was not out drinking, and deep inside you just you wanted to check on him, to see if he was okay.

After nearly half an hour you still hadn't found him. You had caught a priest and a servant in the stables, much to your disgrace.

You figured you'd walk to the river, as you like to spend time there, for it is always quiet, especially at night. And it was a beautiful night, albeit a bit cold, as autumn was approaching.

You were making your way to the river, through the woods, when you suddenly heard a twig snap behind you. You stood still.

'Who's there?' you asked, and waited a moment. But the only sound you heard now was the sound of the nearby river. You looked around in the dark, and you heard a sudden rustling of leaves to your left.

You reached for Wasp-Sting, the knife Uhtred gave you some years ago, 'You better come out now,' you said, 'I will gut you if you try something. Or if I find you.'

And then the moon lit up the skin of someone slowly walking towards you.

'I am not armed, lady,' a warm, but shaky voice said. 'I don't mean any harm, I swear.'

You saw a man approaching with his hands above his head. Your eyes adjusted to the bright moonlight on his skin, and you realised it was Sihtric.

'Sihtric?'

'I apologise,' he said and he stood still, slowly dropping his hands, avoiding eye contact as he turned his face to the side. For a moment you just stood there, watching the shy but muscular Dane who was only a few paces away from you, admiring his perfect side profile as the moon lit up his strong jawline.

You couldn't help but laugh, to which Sihtric slightly looked up, before facing down again. 

'You… do… know you can… look at me, right?' you asked, slowly. 

'Lord Uhtred said he would take my eyes if I would,' he answered quickly, 'my lady.' And he slightly bent one knee to make a quick bow towards you.

'Lord Uhtred,' you emphasised the word lord, 'is not going to do anything. He is just teasing you,' you smiled and you took a step closer to him.

Sihtric flinched at your movement, quickly stepped back and threw his hands up to cover his face in reflex. You stopped dead in your tracks and also threw your hands up, gesturing you wouldn't do anything to harm him.

'I am not here to harm you either,' you said gently, 'I promise.'

Sihtric didn't move for a moment, but then hesitantly dropped his hands a little. 'You won't?' he asked, and he turned his body towards you, his face down, eyes still fixated on his feet.

'No,' you chuckled softly, I actually was looking for you.'

You saw his eyes repeatedly move up to you and quickly back to his feet. 'Why?' he then asked, 'h-have I done s-something wrong, my lady?' 

'What? Sihtric, no-'

'I am sorry if I did, I did not mean to. I-I did not know. I promise it will not happen again, let me try again. W-whatever it is, please. I will do better.' His words spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall, and you had to try your hardest to not drown in the rush it came out with.

'Sihtric,' you interrupted him a little firmly, to which you saw him close his eyes. He swallowed hard, and you felt a sudden sadness crawl into your bones, as your thoughts quickly trailed off to when you had met him earlier that day. And you suddenly understood that the behaviour of this beautiful, shy and seemingly harmless man in front of you was something he could not help. And when you connected his body language to your memory of the bruises and scars on his face, you felt your stomach drop.

'Sihtric,' you said quietly, 'you have not done anything wrong, I promise. I was only looking for you because I didn't see you at the alehouse, among the other men. It made me a little worried about you. And I wanted to know if you were okay.'

He slowly opened his eyes, let out a shaky breath and gathered all his courage to finally look you in the eyes.

'I promise,' you smiled softly at him as you locked eyes.

'Y-you were worried about me?'

'Yeah, a little, maybe,' you chuckled.

'Why?' he asked, and he looked down to his feet again.

'I'm not sure,' you said, 'I just…' and you paused to consider your words, something Sihtric seemingly did not do often.

'I would just like to talk to you. Maybe get to know you a little,' you continued and sighed, 'you just caught my interest earlier today.'

You saw Sihtric's lips curled into a shy smile, and so did yours.

You saw Sihtric felt flustered, and he tried to compose himself. 'Lady, I do not deserve your interest. I am a nobody, a bastard son, I have no importance.'

'Well, that is not for you to decide,' you said and smiled, 'I want to get to know you.'

'May I step closer?' you asked, 'to get a better look at you?'

He was silent for a moment, but then nodded in agreement. You stepped towards him and saw how he became uncomfortable the closer you got to him.

'I will not hurt you, ever, you have my word,' you said, to which he suddenly looked up into your eyes. You felt your heart break as his mismatched eyes gazed into yours with a fragile look. You both didn't speak for a moment and just stood there, merely one pace apart.

'You don't let people get close to you often?' you almost whispered, as you closed the space between the two of you.

'No,' he said, shook his head and looked down again, 'people only come close to me when they wish to hurt me,' he said, and a broken smile appeared on his lips.

Sihtric allowed your eyes to inspect him, and followed you cautiously with his own as you looked at his face, his neck, his shoulders and his arms, all the way to his hands. He still hadn't rid himself of the dried blood on his temple and under his nose, and you let out a sigh as you saw how many scars he had on his visible body parts.

Sihtric didn't know where to look and his lips curled into a shy smile again. After a few seconds he finally nodded his head. He hesitantly reached for your hand, as if he expected you to pull away from him. You heard a shaky sigh of relief escape his lips when he felt you gently squeeze his cold hand.

'Will you come with me?' you then asked, and you held out your hand.

'Where to?' he asked shyly.

'To my home,' you smiled.

'Why?' his face flustered.

'To take care of you,' you reassured him softly, 'at least for the night, I insist,' you smiled.

[shinjisdone]

To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 8)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other seet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 7 is here - Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up; Thorfinn leaves you alone for revenge

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Part 10 is here - Thorfinn and you bound by heart; Promises of Vinland broken and abandoned

Tag list: @luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Only mentioned and used as examples. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: conversations about love in general (but hinted at to be the Christianity's view of unconditional love. I tried to have it a bit more character-focused), qestioning your bond with Thorfinn, Thorfinn being stupid, speeding through the plot because Canute and Askeladd are the main characters now I guess]

You're Gonna Make Me Go, You're Gonna Make Me Drown...

The snow is cold.

Even as everything is barren and clad in a gravely sick and whitest cloud of snow to let the prince know it is a dream, the snow below still feels cold.

He sees the blood on Ragnar and he knows how cold he feels as well but compared to all that he has known in his life, the rest of the world seemed far colder.

The man stays warm even as he begged him not to go. As he threw caution to the wind at his wise words of loss, of how he must awaken and grow.

He tossed it all aside.

Yet the outside world is harsh and forced his awakening with a splatter of blood.

Canute awakened and saw a familiar back. Under him he could not feel the cold of the white snow of the blankets he laid upon as another round of blood dared to taint his skin.

A viking he reckoned as Björn bellowed like a yet-to-be-seen beast as he threw his arm back yet again to cause another blow to a skull. His eyes wide and milky as he wildly smashed about him. To the left, was the priest with his alcohol. In front of him, with their back facing him, was you.

"...You've woken up now, finally." You soberly began as you watched the one-sided fighting, "Björn and the rest of the band are fighting over you, prince. Whoever wins gets to keep you...and everyone but Björn is ready to abandon Askeladd."

"...Everybody but Björn and Thorfinn."

You explain the fighting before you and the one behind the hills. Askeladd taking hostage and Thorfinn dueling for his right to kill him. You, are stuck here.

The atmsophere is awkward. It was as if the roars of battle did not exist, as if the bloodbath before did not exist - rather there was a silence that was drowning. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that Canute bore the same demure face as you.

"...I've had a dream..."

He began with the faintest of smiles...

"...Ragnar was there and he bid goodbye. He's gone, I know that...now," He seemed to hesitate as he took a deep but shaky breath, "Now...there is no one in the world left who loves me anymore..."

You look back to the ground below you. The snow under had long melted, your hands red and freezing from the contact of it. Your voice barely found the strength to be anything above a whisper. "...I am sorry, prince...I never wished that upon you. This shouldn't have happened but Askeladd is..."

You gritted your teeth. Askeladd was many things...and he seemed to not have an ounce of...care in his heart for his band.

Why are you surprised? The man, the killer and kidnapper of royalty...the leader of a band so vile. Yet it still hurt to be here.

Hearing something shift behind you, though you were still lost in your own, useless thoughts.

"Why...are you out of all people apologizing?"

The grave tone in his question made you snap your eyes to him.

Canute's eyes, though red, seemed...cold and deep.

The evident frown on his face was now a scowl, however, one of slight confusion. Did he...always look like that?

For the first time, you hear him say your name.

"Why...are you out of all people not fighting?"

You startle as he so boldly took ahold of your shoulder. Before that, the prince barely could glance at you.

"You seem so rueful...yet you are one of them who brought me here. You took me hostage just like Askeladd, but you still provide me with your comfort."

Feeling yourself rise and back away from the young man, your eyes widened, mouth silent. Yet Canute did not let go.

"You provide me with your comfort, your pity, your blade and weapon. With your body as a shield yet only out of obligation. You shared your rations out of obligation when Ragnar was no more but still did so with a smile. Why?"

Canute finally seemed to frown.

"The day before...you have killed for one. You rose your blade to kill for Thorfinn and willingly tainted yourself with blood, with sin for his safety. The day after that you shared the warmth and laughter as if none of that happened."

"Prince..."

"You kill and attack everyone but each other...your kindness does not reach anyone but him. I must have simply been lucky...or did I seem so meek to you to lower your guard? For you to be so merciless and ruthless to bring the slightest bit if goodness to a man who is just as cruel...and now you are here demurred by all the unfairness of it all? Is that love?"

Startled like a deer, you shift back. Canute spoke in riddles to you...or, perhaps, the word 'love' did linger in the back of your mind from a time far before your viking era?

That is up to you - but it cannot be denied that this royal must have lost his mind.

"When you kill for each other, is that love? When you indulge in your jokes, is that love? Is it love that you two share while you spare the rest of the world none?"

"Is that a bond of love?"

Moving even further back meant facing Björn and while both men seemed unnerving right now, you'd rather face the perplexing Canute. Though you cannot give an answer to his riddles.

"Do you love Thorfinn? And does Thorfinn love you? I've been wondering that since I knew you two."

You look away. It is hard to say whether or not you spared love any thought since your time here in Askeladd's band. The man and the rest of these vile creatures did not seem to know any love. Not Björn who was killing his own comrades, nor any of the men below the hills that were indulging in the art of battle and its entertainment.

Yet did you know any love?

Did you know love when graced by the shines of the sun? Did you love the feeling of winter, even as it tried to freeze you to death in the darkest of nights? Did you show any love to the critters you've killed for food? Did you know love when greeted by Thorfinn and his many snarky remarks? If so, did you love him from the beginning, when he was his cold, stark self or did you gift him any now, now that you know you could trust him?

Trust him now, even after he left you here to fight for the killer of his father?

It is strange.

It is strange as Canute discussed with the priest. As he compared the love of Ragnar and that of Thorfinn - to which the young prince took offense to.

"Both of them are discriminating. They prefer parts of the world over another. Your Ragnar preferred you over a village, and the young viking seemed to not hold any love for anything but this one." He pointed at you.

It is vile. It is discriminating, their love. They do not love all as they should. Perhaps they couldn't.

And so, the priest pointed at you again; "And this one is no different. You know love and you discriminate. You kill and steal and now drown in the consequences of your lacking love. You showed it out of pity to His Higness, I presume...but it still holds nothing. Even you, as you hold the young viking boy dear to you, can only show unconditional love in your death."

You could only watch with wide eyes. Were they right? Were they wrong? Did they know love better than you did?

Did you even know what all of this meant?

Did you?

It did not seem so.

For you stared in awe at the sight before you - the meek Canute craddling the face of a wild beast, Björn, as he struggled to swing another final blow. Eyes watched intently as he lowered his bloodied fist and held him close to his heart. Embracing him like a mother - a brother - a kin - a hurting heart!

Shocked, you stumble up on your feet as Björn regained concsiousness of his dazed state. This weak royal calmed someone as bloodlusting and barbaric as Björn!

You barely could breath and so was the priest. Mumbling about a miracle as Canute ordered the rest of the surviving men to tend to his wounds - as if he was deserving of tenderness - and to ready a sleigh for him. For he was injured, and the injured needed treatment.

The men berated of the unfairness of it all. Of the rules of fighting and of the winners and the losers. One shall be graced with victory while the other shall suffer.

The prince turned to you, ordering you to help him gather the lost horses as well. Even now his touch was firm but gentle.

"I shall show you the meaning of your battles as well. Even your death if I must. For you still hold an inkling of love...I can offer you paradise on earth if you let it happen."

Feeling Like I'm Living In Your Shadow...

He lost conciousness for a good moment, he know he did...and even though it felt like an eternity, he reckoned he flew higher than the birds...

Even after Thorkell broke his arm, he was still standing. Standing there, tall and alive as he kept asking him the same question.

"Do you know what makes a true warrior?"

Is it the valkyries and their offering hand? The promise for Valhalla? Does one need to die with honor or simply have a high body count?

Thorkell admitted on hoping the son of the man stronger than him could answer the conundrum. But the young blonde was only lost.

Lost on how to kill him. Askeladd had promised to find a weak point but so far the giant bastard has yet to stumble and fall.

His daggers are tainted with his blood but no matter the many slices, Thorkell was not admitting defeat. He challenged him to a duel, he sliced his chain mail, got his arm broken and Askeladd is on the verge of bleeding out...

The cheers of the men around him was deafening, too.

As it felt like an eternity to this fight, Thorfinn did not even notice that he wasn't thinking about anything but Askeladd.

Thorkell promised him tales of his father, who he apparently knew, but even thinking about Thors would only make him lose focus.

He couldn't afford to think about his father right now. Not about his mother or sister, Askeladd or you.

He could only listen to the hollers, the wind, Throkell's steps and the words of wisdom leaving Askeladd's mouth...

"Y'know, it almost seemed like Thors did love my niece Helga..."

Thorfinn backed away from a swing of his axe.

"So is love what makes a true warrior? Ah, no...couldn't be it, now could it?"

Thorfinn blocked it all out. Focus on the axes. Cut through the ankles and biceps. Win and you'll be fine.

And so he seemed to be. Blinded briefly by the reflection of Askeladd's blade and hit in the head, Thorkell fell into the snow. With a bellow, Thorfinn casted aside his shock and went for the eye.

He can win this. He'll win Askeladd back and kill him in a duel himself. He'll win, he'll win!

Whatever else may happen after that does not matter.

And so he won.

Enough not to have him and Askeladd be slaughtered by the others and having escaped with a mere scar and broken arm.

Canute descended the hill and with him, a small army of Thorkell's men. To his right were you, riding close by with a frown that could frighten the men. Thorkell watched the prince's bravery and equal foolishness. His lack of fear irritated the viking but he still believed it to be better to become his vassal instead of being his kidnapper.

You got off to tend to Björn, fastened at the sleigh, just like Canute ordered. As Thorkell's band followed the young royal with perplexed faces, Thorfinn tagged along before his eyes widened at the sight of you.

Running up to you, the calmness that overtook him due to his victory ceased and he almost panted like a dog as he finally reached you. One arm in a sling while the other hovered above yours - almost wanting to grab hold of it.

"You alright?" He panted out as his eyes looked you up and down - and so did yours.

The young fella was truly worn out. Even though he was lucky his arm had only been broken, bruises are surely soon to follow. You couldn't see any blood, blood that wasn't his at least, but it was clear that him even being able to stand could be considered a miracle.

The idiot gambled with another round with Thorkell the Tall, after all. It is a miracle he was alive.

"I am." You responded in a whisper, looking away with a frown. Without another word, you followed Canute.

I Know No One's There, I'll Stay, I'll Stay...

Thorfinn trotted after you like a confused child.

While staying close to the prince, the young viking talked to you mundanely as if nothing had happened. The tales that Thorkell told him - who was strolling alongside Askeladd with a tune - and how he knew about his father. About his mother and the many battles Thors had fought, and how he suddenly seemed to give it all up.

He told you how he now seemed to become a vassal for the princess, as if you had not witnessed it. Thorkell the Tall now following orders from soft Canute out of all people. The same man who almost made mincemeat out of the both of you.

Now there he was, strolling along with his eyepatch.

"What's the matter with you?" Thorfinn rose a brow.

You glanced to him. Arm tightly in a sling as if hugging himself, though his bored gaze made it clear that he was anything but concerned for his own safety. He had talked and talked ever since you met up again but not once did he ask you about your experience up the hill.

It was irrelevant to him. As long as you weren't beaten or bruised or killed, any kind of incident did not matter to him.

He did not even ask if you needed to fight for your survival. If you had to kill any previous bandmates - they did not matter though you could understand from where he came from with that logic.

They did not matter.

No one is left anyway. Eradicated either by Thorkell's, Askeladd's or Thorfinn's hand. Whether or not you helped out with getting rid of the vermin did not matter in the end.

None of that...was love, was it?

"Nothing." You curtly responded and focused on guiding the horses.

You cannot believe how much of an errand boy he was playing.

The meeting with the king was intimidating enough - you thought your good intentions to Canute would grand you to be on the good side of the king but he was keen on assanitating his own child. Canute seemed well aware and, with Askeladd by his side now, planning to kill his father himself.

It was intimidating. The meek, fair princess now plotting murder. He was so small to you, a frail bird too scared to fly - now he intended to conquer the sky.

You wished you weren't there. But as Canute introduced you as his guardian, you didn't really have a choice in this matter.

If you are female, well, having you there might do more harm then good. King Sweyn questioning his son's sanity on putting his life in the hands of a woman.

Still, what is done is done, and Thorfinn played along nicely. Both you and Askeladd could see that. The young man was training despite his broken arm, made a self-made sling or what you assumed to be support as he stabbed through the air.

The evening was cold but not refreshing to you. Spending the night in the barn next to the inn, where everyone merrily ate and celebrated the prince's safe return, you strolled along the house as if lost in a forest.

The inn was warm but unwelcome, even if Canute was in there. He ordered food to be prepared for you and Thorfinn but you'd rather wait outside than go in (Again, as a woman going in might be a bad idea).

The door opened and you watched Askeladd carefreely taking a piss on the snow. He grinned at you. "Not going to come in, into the warmth? The food is good."

You declined, saying that food would be prepared for you. The older man clicked his tongue as he shook his head. Pride is going to freeze you to death. Just look at all the men he lost.

"Only you and Thorfinn remain, oh, and Björn, too. What are you going to do after all this, eh, kid? I wouldn't call you loyal to me."

Scoffing, you turned away. Perhaps you did have a plan. Wanting to run away to a far-away place, start your own viking band or stay as Canute's guardian. Or maybe, you were as clueless as Askeladd made you out to be. Wandering like a lost child.

"Are you just gonna keep following Thorfinn like a pup? Or maybe he'll keep on clinging to you after he got his revenge."

You turn to him with a glare. Askeladd truly was an enigma of a man...does he hate you just as much as he hated his other bandmates? Why does he keep having you around when Thorfinn is a much better tool? Even now he does what he says in order to get a duel. And why would Canute, the one who spoke of love to you, recruit a cruel man like Askeladd?

You couldnt find any answers that night. Thorfinn kept on stabbing through the air, only the aroma of food making him stop. He gobbled it all up and you kept on pointing out the scraps of food stuck on his lips. Watching him eat, you absent-mindedly called his name.

"...Why do you keep me around, Thorfinn?"

The blonde let out a confused noise. You took a scrap of meat off his cheek before eating it yourself.

"Why would you ask that?" He kept on stuffing his mouth. Truly, why? He was the one who asked you that question many months before, he was the one confused by your behavior and actions. Yet here you are putting his into question?

"I don't want you to die." Though he kept on eating, his eyes stayed downcast and his voice barely above a whisper. Still, that was enough of an answer to him. It had been before. But you did not seemed satisfied by it.

"It's just strange." You mumbled and inhaled sharply to gather your words, "Thorfinn, do you-"

You halt, then hesitated. There was furstration in your eyes that even he could make out.

Was his wish for your survival his gracing of love?

Then why did he not love when surrounded by the sea, by land, animals and food?

Why did you gift love to the one companion to when he aims to murder out of honor?

Sighing, you sat back and leaned against his shoulder. Swallowing the last crumbles, Thorfinn wrapped you in a blanket as best as he could with one arm.

"Take this. It gets freezing cold here at night."

"...Why is my friend such a fool?"

You whispered and Thorfinn let out an offended 'huh'? He flicked your cheek before making himself comfortable. "You're acting so strange."

[notstilinski]

Kevin Can F Himself Starters !

Taken from season two of the 2021 AMC series, Kevin Can F Himself! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! There may be some light spoilers for the series!

“We’ll fix it together, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never had a hostage before. I’m not great at it yet.”

“I have no idea. I can’t tell if it’s been twenty minutes or eight hours.”

“Okay. So you’re done trying to kill my best friend. Congrats. You still tried once!”

“How the hell am I dating a cop?”

“Maybe they don’t care when I whine, but he laughs when you bleed.”

“They say ‘we’ all the time like you’re in this together, but, (Name), where are they?”

“They tried to kill them. Can you believe? Bitches tried to kill me, too.”

“Jesus. The nightmare continues.”

“I mean ‘cause you have the general vibe of a sad dog in a cone.”

“I don’t want to be me anymore.”

“I swear to you, I am working on it. Because I really do want you around.”

“I only wish you hit me harder so I could forget all this shit.”

“I’m not in (Name), but the general sense of failure just, sorta, trickles down.”

“Who knew there was a version of death sadder than regular death?”

“It just feels like punishment for dying alone.”

“I’m not like you, I can’t just pretend to like things.”

“You ever think that it’s not that you have a bad sense of direction, you just gotta pay attention to where you’re going?”

“I’ve been squatting in the basement for the past two weeks.”

“The more times you bring up the one nice thing you ever did for me, the less nice it gets.”

“Did a demon just achieve its final, most powerful form in our kitchen?”

“See how I say that with no visible eye roll?”

“It just seems like you’re someone who never had to share.”

“If I play the field, I’ll end up under it.”

“And you don’t like me. It’s fine. People don’t have to like each other.”

“Not when I’ve just been insulted and rejected by a man who I always thought of as my creepy uncle.”

“Yeah, and maybe that stuff was worth it when I thought we might actually be together.”

“Yeah, and I swore I’d never talk to a cop without a lawyer present, but here we are.”

“When I think too much about something, that’s the second I start talking myself out of it, okay?”

“You’re a hazard.”

“Uh, fun is for people with disposable income.”

“I woke up. Another win.”

“Well, they did corner me last night and told me sobriety was the reason I’m not fun anymore.”

“That’s residual priest nervousness, if you ask me.”

“What does the beauty matter if there is no other soul to share it with?”

“Okay. Is that true or is that just what /they/ tell you?”

“I don’t want to have to worry about him, but I can’t stop worrying about him.”

“(Name) will be fine. (Name)’s always fine.”

“There’s a reason that ‘drinking’ rhymes with ‘thinking.’”

“Because you’re just so excited to die?”

“I feel like I dropped something and I feel it next to me. And I’m trying to figure out what it is, and I’m lying there wide awake convinced that if I don’t pick it up, then something terrible is going to happen.”

“Oh, sure, like you’re suddenly concerned about me.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to be alone. And maybe there’s not always a difference.”

“They laughed. They didn’t listen to me at all. No one listens to me.”

“(Name) would have died without you? Maybe you should go home sometimes.”

“I think it’s rearranging deck chairs at the Titanic at this point.”

“I’ll see you for three weeks in February while I work on my tan!”

“I don’t think they realized it. They gave everything up to protect me.”

“And now that I’m left here without them, I don’t feel better off. I just feel… left.”

“I’m not really concerned with protecting (Name). Or anyone like them, really.”

“Well, but you know that we’re not actually better off without you, right?”

“Without me, you will have nothing. Because I will fucking destroy you.”

“I had a terrible, terrible day. And you’re the only person I hang out with now. Is that okay?”

“Let’s die alone together."

[pendwelling]

You can’t tell me the first thing priest Dokja does when transmigrated to TWSB isn’t locking himself in the royal library and refuses to come out

(Crown prince YJH and Priest KDJ is the funniest image, and obviously HSY is in the background causing problems)

Meanwhile poor Yeseo is on the verge of a panic attack in ORV

(Yeseo trying to parse through his sisters tear filled rambles about her favorite book and therefore being the weirdest prophet know to man while Cedric and Christelle are just there wondering what is up with him)

OOOHHH KDJ locking himself in the Imperial library would be so KDJ of him to do HAHA, tho the main obstacle for that is to first get permission from the Crown 🥲 which, sadly for him.... would mean cozying up in some way to either whoever is the Cardinal and/or Empress/Emperor in this AU (it could range from Persephone and Hades, to Namgung Minyoung, or to even Kyrgios [but I think he fits Johann's role more], etc etc)

((Unsurprisingly I'm gonna go off on a tangent bc anything TWSB related makes my Freak™ show—)) (I JUST LOVE SOOKYM'S WORLDBUILDING SM.... IM SORRY I CANT HELP IT.....) 😭😭😭😭 but libraries—or rather books—actually have a rather important part to play in TWSB, or at least, in showcasing a noble family's strength, power, and prestige. In the Divine Kingdom of Venetiaan, the general populace has an incredibly purposefully low education and literacy rate (due to Queen Lilianne's plan of using the population's dumbification to manipulate their blind curated religious beliefs into having them conscript for her war), so owning books is seen as a symbol of wealth and high education, and the more wealthy a family is, the bigger they would represent that in their family's library. The Riester Empire is different in that education of the common folk is NOT something that they purposefully deprive them of (in fact, we've actually seen the Imperial Family invest in academies for different sorts of talents/skills that could accept even commoners as students), but the significance and importance of books and libraries is something both countries share!

ANYWAY, small tangent over wkdjdkd But all that is to say, a diplomatic hostage like Jesse Venetiaan (and KDJ in this AU) would not have casual permission to use something as precious as the Imperial Library sadly :')...... Which is unfortunate for our Reader bc in a lot of Fantasy AUs the library is a place that KDJ commonly escapes to WKWKKWKWK (IT'S ONE OF MY FAV TROPES NGL...... 😫😭 library lurker KDJ who eventually catches the eye of [usually Crown Prince or Duke of the North] YJH who is entranced by the peaceful figure KDJ makes, backlit from the light of the window and focused on whatever trashy novel he's reading......)

But assuming KDJ knows his chatacter's original fate in the original story (dying during the Riester-Venetiaan war), just like he does in ORV, I bet he would be the type to know exactly what to do and what to avoid, and how to achieve the perfect most "ideal" ending for the story. He's a scheming lil bastard and I trust his survival abilities (well..... until he dies. but he'll come back like the rat he is LMAO...) But considering his personality (at least with The Audacity that the Fourth Wall allows him to have), I think he'd head straight to scheming his way into the good graces of people that he could benefit from (and gaining access to the Imperial Library for some good reads def feels like an essential benefit wkwkwkk) with as much liberties as his complex position as a diplomatic hostage could allow him.

AND OHHHHHHHH YEAH..... POOR JUNG YESEO...... It's such a sad sad SAD image to think about, but also....the though of him frantically trying to organize hundreds of chapters of a repetitive regression scenario story VIA his little sister's tear-filled incoherent hyperfixated ramblings is. kinda funny in a very mean way (LMAO). CedChris would ask him/wonder if he's actually a prophet but when compared to /actual/ prophets like Camille Bacary, they'll kinda look at his sweating face and go "🤨😐 right... prophet huh....". Though it should be said that Yeseo is actually crazy smart when he wants to be/when the situation requires it, so I trust he could do his best to help his companions in an apocalypse with any valuable information he has absorbed thru osmosis via his sister. (And in the case of the "Acciddentally-took-Eunseo's-phone" scenario—canonically, Yeseo managed to get through all 302 chapters of QPB's part 1 in a few days, but it was mostly skimming haha but you can assume he'd be somewhat of a quick reader....... though the stress of scenarios would definitely make him a zombie over Eunseo's phone.) But regardless, considering the personalities of these kids, I still feel like an orv!TWSB(or rather QPB) would be more lighthearted(as lighthearted as it can be) to reflect its targeted Reader: Eunseo! Think of an Action Fantasy Regression novel with a persevering main character like Ham Ga-in Christelle who gets through difficulties with as much stubbornness and cheer as she can (though this would naturally dim throughout regressions, but the core of her character is still important). Idk how far into TWSB you are so I don't want to say much wkdjkdkd but yeah..... KDJ's relationship with TWSA and Eunseo's with QPB are SO similar and yet so different, and that difference can partly be traced back to the type of people they are, which is reflected in the type of genre their favourite respective novels are (which also reflects on the characters in said story too) TT

HAA.......... Somehow, I think I end up writing way too much in response to my Asks sometimes, but ANYWAY WKFJKDDKDKD

Thank you Anon for feeding into these AU thoughts, they're always fun to think about and hear what others have to say!!!!!! 🥹 SORRY THAT I KEPT GOING OFF TRACK. CERTIFIED TWSB YAPPER HERE....... 🥲

[pinkanonwrites]

Vash with a Courier!Reader

GN!Reader headcanons below!

Your job was far from an easy one, especially in the washed-out sandscapes of Gunsmoke where bandits and ne’er-do-wells could be lurking behind every dune and cliffside. You were a lone Courier, shuttling mail and packages in between the towns and major cities with the small herd of Thomases at your command. It was in one of those podunk towns where you met Vash for the first time, him squaring up against the bandits while you snuck about freeing hostages and recovering some of your stolen cargo.

Neither of you expected much past it, just a simple teaming up when it was easy and convenient. Yet somehow, whatever town you trotted into next, it seemed that Vash the Stampede was already there. Sometimes he was alone, sometimes he was flanked by two silly insurance agents and a so-called priest. But regardless of who he was or wasn’t with, he always had a smile and a few words for you.

You became an odd pair of friends, trading stories and knick-knacks whenever you happened to run across each other on your respective journeys. Vash was never the type to keep too much on him, he preferred to travel light. But he found himself getting more and more drawn to little baubles and curiosities he’d find in town shops, wondering if you’d like it, how you’d react if (when) he handed it to you. You gave him a feather from your head Thomas that he kept tucked into the inner pocket of his duster basically at all times.

Speaking of which, he’s obsessed with your Thomas herd! He’s constantly cooing and trying to snuggle with them, even as they gnaw on his coat and nibble at his spiky hair. You teach him about the massive bird-beasts and take him riding from time to time, your pair of Thomases careening up and down the dunes with your laughter bubbling through the rushing air.

You’d never once considered trying for the bounty on Vash’s head, something he was eternally grateful for though he never asked why himself. But he didn’t actually have to, because you ended up supplying the story yourself one night while sipping drinks under the star-speckled sky. As hard as it was, you truly adored your job. You liked helping people in need, making them happy, making sure they had what they needed. And 60 billion double-dollar bounty or not, you could tell that Vash was the same as you, he really just wanted to help. You really admired that.

It was at those words, that you admired him, that something finally clicked in place in Vash’s head. You weren’t even looking at him, staring up at the stars with this look of such contentment and comfort on your face, like you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. That’s when he finally realized what that odd pull was whenever he saw something that reminded him of you, that bubbling excitement whenever he ended up running into you in the next town, the next city.

He liked you.

And god, he really had no idea how to feel about that. He knew that simply being near you would put you in incredible danger, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to fully distance himself from you. He’d gotten too attached, too comfortable. As strong as you were, compared to the kinds of people he was dealing with you were incredibly fragile, and the last thing he ever wanted was for you to get hurt because of his burdens.

And yet, he just cant help himself, he’s incredibly shameless. He flirts with you constantly but is flustered to the point of stammering with every compliment you give him, constantly toying at the idea of something more but unable to take the first steps himself. You’ll have to be incredibly patient and persistent with him to actually get him to be willing to enter a relationship with you.

Once you are though it’s so painfully obvious he’s smitten with you to literally everyone you guys ever meet. He bursts into delighted tears when you first tell him you’re going to be traveling alongside him from now on, not just wandering and hoping you bump into each other. You’re the first person he worries about when things go awry and the first person he celebrates with when he manages to pull it all together again. You tell his favorite travel stories to his other companions and he’s ecstatic with how fast you make friends with them too.

He’ll move to the ends of Gunsmoke’s most treacherous deserts and back to make sure you were safe and happy, and he can’t help but feel loved knowing that you’d do the same for him too.

[fateandloveentwined]

5 notes on Xie Lian and maybe a note more

omg this took so long i'll proofread in the morning. written in chinese originally, under "read more". annotations on [google docs] with translations to come because there are too many.

(if you do chinese, skip to the cut! it is way better than the translation cri.)

it is fortunate that their ship name is coined Hualian and not Hua-xie. The flower withers, the petals fall. Yet there is a time for blossoms, a time for withers — if huaxie it really is, still it is befitting of their eight hundred years of separations and reencounters.

仙花垂憐，川城傾謝。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在無間，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

o n e .

He was pierced by a hundred swords. Thereafter, he offered to be pierced again. The nightly terrors that prowl wild in his dreams: he was ready to embrace it once more. The heart pierces, and yet it trembles.

t w o.

A thought experiment: if Wuming didn't die for Xie Lian at the rematerialisation of the hundred swords, would Xie Lian have accepted his second ascension?

The world is a wretched sea. Mortals, misery. Some people carry with them the weight of conscience, atlas or abyss on their shoulders as they edge stepwise towards the heavenly skies, for they know that the higher they go, the more power they wield in their hands to change the course of the stars. Lin Shu stands on the shoulders of legacy and demarcates Conscience on the ground. He steps into the encirclement he has carved: he holds himself hostage and falls into the nether realms of the incessant inferno, subject to an unyielding pursuit for bygone honours and nobility in store. It takes courage, to live like this.

But it also takes another kind of courage, to not live like this. Xie Lian wasn’t like Lin Shu. Dethroned, mortalised, buried and stripped of power and grace, he wandered on earth for eight hundred years. He did not save the destitute mortals, desolate and crying for help. He did not bestow on them the bountiful blessings, as what a god could do. The did-not-do’s — it takes in another courage to be him.

t h r e e.

Had Xie Lian really collected scraps these eight hundred years? To deny would be an injury to his memoir, but there is more to that. He served as the high priest of a kingdom, a general to an army; through the grapevine, the crown prince in white had played many roles on the stage of life, a hundred years here in the role of one, and a hundred from forth in the robes of another. In time, the tales of the one who inspired rose and ebbed, yet the legacies remain. He didn’t protect the people with his deified status, yet what endures is his compassion and mercy. In the rain, the figure clad in white walks past the world in joy and tears and touches the hearts he passes — this was his salvation, and his ascension to godhood.

f o u r.

At his second banishment, Xie Lian implores Jun Wu to assuage him of his merit and luck. Mortals light incense in exchange for blessings in supplication. Xie Lian disperses Fortune to earth instead, and disassembles Divinity for the common people to carve out blessings of their own lives.

The works of one cannot salvage the teetering constructs of a foundering world. The world is a tapestry of woven histories; people save the people as the tales unfurl. The stitches tangling in a sea of light, blessed faces lit up in the night by the millions of lanterns adorning the households of the earth, keeping it bright as stars in the sky. And it was so, what Xie Lian and Hua Cheng did.

f i v e.

The sword nears his neck: he is unfazed. The tenderness and gentleness of the noble spirit endures, staid as the meekness of nephrite jade. In the vicissitudes of temperaments, he sits, blasé; he does not concern himself with the triumphs and setbacks of life.

Clouds and storms wash across the world as he continues, with eased smiles and casual dialogue.

It is the most pitiable thing, of all in the world, gazing upon one who smiles placid in face of abject misery. He laughs in his affliction, yet is there such a thing, to be okay in utter wretchedness?

Fleeting moments of forlornness and joy all condensed in the time of a single gaze: his experiences refine him into a jade of the heart. The days of the ingenuous youth awash in ages past, gone were the luckiest teen of the kingdom, but the pureness in the eyes behind the sheaths of pain remain.

— I’m used to it, it matters no more;

who is there in this race with him but the immutable laws of nature in the crescent moon and wind?

The splendour surges, the crowds fete, the splendour falls — in the desert there is none: there is no glass of water waiting at your salvation. Dust and silt fork at each’s turn of fate; flies shovel across the path towards their better destinies. So long as one has feelings, has desires, how could one be truly free? The flower remains. The vista is unchanged. Yet the splendorous tower — the radiant memories of the past — bygones — and still he says that although the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives content. Where, pray, is the fount of the utopian peach blossom? How so, that the heart is at peace, in face of all this?

Yet he is well. His heart at peace. Where the heart lies, the peach blossoms spring.

+ 1

Xie Lian is this person, as such. Though the spring of the peach blossoms have long since dwindled, he hopes, towards.

Original chinese version below the cut

所幸，他们选的CP叫花怜，不是花谢。不过“花落花开自有时”，若真为花谢，也配合他们这八百年的聚散离合罢。

仙花垂怜，川城倾谢。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在无间，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

一、

百剑穿身后复挺出，再一次历万剑戳戮之痛。这一点，我是痛心、亦是悸动的。

二、

有过这样的想法，花城若是没有为谢怜挡下了第二次的万剑戮身，怜怜是不是不会愧疚如斯，会接受第二次的飞升？

“琅琊榜”林殊跟谢怜是不一样的。苍生于苦海，有的人会承载着毕生愧疚跬步而行，因为上了天庭，才有最大的力气赋以一拼，拯救最多的人。此后一生举步维艰，承载着、背负着的不再是一个人小时候的清平理想，更是踩着他人骨脊向上爬行的椎心之痛——往后是画地为牢，是不顾己身也要焚尽一切，济众生于颠簸的无间岁月。这无庸置疑是一种勇气。

可谢怜没有这么做。失去了神力、身分，八百载流连人世，他没有拯救到苍穹下的芸芸众生，没有为他们争取最大的福祉。可这，也须要另一股勇气。

三、

谢怜这八百年真的去收破烂了吗？有，当然有。可他当过国师、当过将军，成就过数之不尽，江湖传闻中不为人知的百年故事。他没有以神明身分保佑万民，可他的慈怜犹存；雨中笠者，垂緌间点拂人间百态——这是他的拯救、他的神明。

四、

第二次飞升之际，谢怜哀求君吾散去自己一身功德、一身气运，自此潦倒人间历尽尘俗。人皆供神求福，谢怜将其福泽尽散，颠沛流离之人得享其华。他致神明于凡人，使世间重拾自由、意志。

孤木难支，一人之劳无能挽苍生、解万苦；大厦将倾，独木焉能匡扶？拯挽苍生，自苍生始，遂藉万民之手拯之。此后万家灯火灿若星河，烟火千里红尘无虞。谢怜、花城做到了。

五、

刀斧加身而神色不改、面无惧色，谦谦君子温润如玉，今古兴衰谈笑风生中雨过天青。宠辱不惊，看庭前花开花落；去留无意，望天上云卷云舒。

云淡风轻。

最疼是口是心非之人，三两莞尔散去心中阴霾，愈是疼痛，愈是笑逐颜开，浑若无事。可刀斧悬颈，万剐千刀，心中岂能无恙？

百般悲喜付诸抬首一眸，千番历练炼就柔和似水：如切如磋、如琢如磨。削磨净尽的是昔日的棱角利刃，透澈瞳帘背后是磔刑凌迟般的刀剜苦楚。“习惯了，不足为外人道矣”——清风拂我，明月清风我。

可笑这世间起朱楼、宴宾客，人情冷暖的荒漠里连救命的一杯水也不肯施舍。浮沉各异势；泣血蝇虫笑苍天：蚁排兵、蜂酿蜜，有感情、有欲望，世间焉得自在者？花相似、景依旧，烟锁秦楼、却道“身在无间，心在桃源”。桃源何在，心何安之？

然心安。心之所向，是桃源。

Tl;dr：谢怜就是这样的人。纵武陵人远，吾往矣。

Full annotations found here. Untranslated for now because there are simply too many; I suggest copying and pasting into the browser if you are interested in the poetry and verses cited. Many of them are not used as per their original meaning, however, so it is 99% on me if you caught the reference but did not understand it.

Anyhow, a note on the two most important allusions, because there is value in such:

[1] 身在无间，心在桃源。Whence the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives beyond, content.

A suggested translation of "Body in abyss, heart in paradise" because I vehemently abhor the official tl.

Incessant hints to the nirvana of buddhism. I didn't play with the idea of using paradise like in John Milton's poem to encapsulate the utopian ideals of Jin dynasty Tao Yuanming's Taoist Peach Blossom Spring visions. In Tao's essay he expresses the notion "I can live in a peaceful provincial paradise where the peach blossoms spring and forget about worldly matters", which is not exactly the biblical Eden. Probably owing to the idea that Xie Lian never actively sought out an extraterrestrial, heavenly, peach-blossom-spring paradise, I did not translate it literally here but figuratively, though opinion probably divides on this one.

[2] 纵武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。

念武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。——《凤凰台上忆吹箫·香冷金猊》 李清照

李氏取自：

烟锁凤楼无限事，茫茫，鸾镜鸳衾两断肠。——《南乡子·细雨湿流光》 冯延巳

Extreme liberties taken. Li Qingzhao wrote the first poem from the perspective of a lover. She sits at her own chambers reminiscing about her lost lover. This in turn was alluding to Feng Yansi's poem. Both works reference a tower/chamber where two mythical lovers spent their time at before ascension. As such, this phrase denotes here something unattainable from past memories and someone locked in perpetuum, in stasis, waiting for something to come.

In relation to this line on the chamber/tower by Li Qingzhao, a direct allusion to Tao Yuanming's peach blossom utopia was also alluded to in Li's poem in the antecedent line, despite both being used to speak of romance and not sociopolitical utopian ideals. The sleep-deprived me thus thought it "apt" to cite both lines in the writing to express Xie Lian's longing for the peach blossom paradise, despite said paradise being no longer extant on Earth, and him being in incessant hell. The peach blossoms in question tie in with mxtx's allusion of the peach blossom spring in tgcf's famous quotation; thus explains the reason for all the convoluted quoting.

this much for now. I hope something makes sense, at least. The english version is very, very figurative since I realised the chinese version was nigh impossible to literally translate without dedicating a relatively great amount of time to it. I don't know how this will be received at all, but why hi, and hope it is something at least xD

[eretzyisrael]

by Ben Cohen

The French Catholic priest who developed an international reputation for his pioneering research into the Nazi “Holocaust by bullets” in Ukraine has spoken out forcefully against the antisemitic attitudes coloring criticism of Israel’s war against Hamas in Gaza.

“I always say: if there were no Jews in Israel, few people would look out for the Palestinians,” Father Patrick Desbois told the French language service of Israeli broadcaster i24 on Tuesday.

Desbois has dedicated his life to researching the Holocaust, fighting antisemitism, and furthering relations between Catholics and Jews. In 2004 he helped found Yahad-In Unum, a project whose mission is to investigate the mass executions of Jews and Roma in Ukraine and Belarus between 1941 and 1944. In the process, Desbois and his team located the graves of more than 1 million Jews throughout Eastern Europe and interviewed scores of witnesses.

Desbois was particularly irked by repeated claims on social media over the Christmas holiday that Jesus himself would be persecuted by Israel were he still alive.

“If he had lived in 1942, Jesus would have been deported to Auschwitz, and if he had been born today, he would be the target of missiles or be a hostage in Gaza,” Desbois remarked, referring to the seizure of more than 200 people during the Oct. 7 pogrom carried out by Hamas terrorists in southern Israel.

Desbois insisted that the motive behind such messages was political, not religious.

“What we see in Bethlehem today, this need to affirm that Jesus was not Jewish, is political,” he argued. “Hamas has always officially supported Christians, but not in Gaza.”

He added that the “Islamists are always with us, except when we are at home; at home, we try to survive.”

Desbois also voiced concern about the alleged participation of Hamas terrorists in the oppression of Iraq’s Yazidi minority in 2014 at the hands of ISIS.

“I do not forget, either, and we never talk about it, that the Palestinians in Gaza, who were not locked in cages as we believe, were circulating a lot, and a number participated in the genocide of the Yazidi minority in Iraq in 2014 alongside the jihadists,” said Desbois, whose efforts have encompassed advocacy on their behalf. “Others also participated in the Yazidi slave trade.”

In an extensive interview with The Algemeiner in 2018, Desbois articulated his view that the fundamental goal of antisemitism has not changed since the Nazi era.

“The Nazis wanted to eliminate every last Jew, even the babies and the old people,” he said. Now, he continued, “they say to the Jews, ‘get out of France,’ ‘get out of Germany,’ ‘get out of Britain,’ ‘get out of Palestine.’ And at the end, who will stay?”

[theravenmuse]

Tagged by @kotias

How many works do you have in AO3? 55! A few of which are art or meta, but the majority are fics.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 329,403 words.

What fandoms do you write for? Almost exclusively Good Omens.

Top five fics by Kudos:

1. I Could Be Yours (E) - 614 Kudos

The version of Good Omens where Aziraphale and Crowley are a pair of horny immortals who enjoy engaging in very long, very elaborate, VERY INTENSE role plays.

This fic is currently part of a hostage situation and will not be updated unless/until that is resolved. I do have a handful of chapters written and ready to go though.

2. I’ll Cum Quietly (E) - 613 Kudos (for a one chapter fic? We were all a little horny after that ending, I suppose. 😆)

Aziraphale has a REACTION to Crowley saying that line. Spoiler alert: Crowley does not come quietly. XD

3. The Nightingales Were Just Sleeping In (T) - 518 Kudos

The one where Crowley falls to the bookshop floor, a sobbing mess, and these two idiots finally figure out they’re just on opposite sides of the same page.

4. Oh, Simple Thing, Where Have You Gone (M/E I keep changing my mind) - 490 Kudos

Let’s make it worse! And then eventually fix it, I promise.

Immediately post season 2, we’re going to find out just how sinister the Metatron’s plan is.

Still a WIP. I’m coming back to this one as soon as I catch up on my event things.

5. Show Me You Love Me? (E) - 406 Kudos

After dealing with a few unruly demons, Aziraphale has been crowned the local demon expert. This mostly means informing the local priests that they have in fact trapped yet another normal human and setting the poor fellows loose. That is until today.

Alternatively: Crowley gets caught by some enthusiastic humans and was likely well on his way to discorporation before Aziraphale steps in. Aziraphale tenderly cares for Crowley, and then there are love confessions, and then Aziraphale takes care of Crowley in a different way.

Do you respond to comments? When I have the spoons I respond to every comment, even the basic “I loved this” ones. But spoons have been in short supply lately so I’ve only been responding to comments that I have meaningful responses to.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh my. Isn’t that a question. And surprisingly, it does have a definitive answer. This was only the fifth fic I ever published. It’s the first dark fic I ever wrote. It altered the way I think about using horror elements in storytelling. It has very few hits and kudos. It remains to this day one of my favourite works, despite the fact that I’ve grown so much in my prose and story structuring since then.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (E) Mind the tags. I did not do in depth CWs the way I do them now. All of the warnings are in the tags only.

A Christmas horror story in which Crowley accidentally releases the demon of Yule, Krampus. Intense horror elements throughout, especially at the end. There is no bright side at the end of this. There is no safety. There is no peace.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? This one is actually harder. I know I’m more known for dark fic, but I’ve written more than one piece where they’re just completely happy at the end. Nothing could be better. Because of that, I’m going to go with the one with the happy ending that means the most to me. That would be this one:

There were Angels Dining at the Ritz (G)

Seasons 1, 2, and 3 (I hope) from the perspective of a waitress at the Ritz.

Do you get hate on fics? Not really. I’ve gotten two hate comments over 30+ dark and/or intense kink fics. One of those accounts is perma-banned, the other got off with a warning. Try it, I dare you.

Do you write smut? Yes indeed. The kinkier the better. You didn’t ask, but this is my favourite soft smut:

Just Another Day in the Rest of Their Lives (E)

It's a soft sort of spice, being woken by your lover's kisses in the cottage you share in the South Downs. How long can they linger here, letting eternity pass them by?

And this is my favourite kink:

Submission (E)

Crowley is in one of his "bratty bottom" moods and needs some help calming down.

And finally, my favourite dark smut fics:

Belle Mort (E) - lovingly nicknamed “Necro”

Heaven is on to the Arrangement. Fortunately, Aziraphale has a plan to throw them off the scent. Surely hereditary enemies couldn't be fraternizing if one of them discorporates the other? Crowley would never agree to such a plan, of course, but they can talk about it after.

No Escape For the Wicked (E) - lovingly nicknamed “eggs”

Crowley has been Lucifer's brood bitch from the dawn of the Earth, a duty he can't escape after his treachery. When he is forced to return to the depths of Hell for his task following his betrayal, he finds a vengefully jealous master.

Craziest Crossover? I don’t know about craziest, but this Good Omens X The Sandman is quite a bit of kinky fun.

Desire (E)

Crowley has spent the last several thousand years keeping Desire at bay. He's had to. But after a certain night in 1941, when Crowley's defenses are shot and Desire comes in the shape of his angel, the demon at last gives in to a temptation of his own making.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. I do occasionally scour for stolen works through general Google search, but that isn’t a guarantee.

Have you ever had a fic translated? The first chapter of I Could Be Yours has a Russian translation. I’m unsure if the translator intends to do more. The lovely @nosferatini has also made a podfic of Platypi and Other Insignificant Topics of Discussion.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not that has been published yet. I have written fics based on other works and have had a few write fics based on mine. There’s a lovely comic up on Gleafer’s Patreon based on one of my own Patreon Exclusive fics. The Great Flood (available now to free and paid members on my Patreon).

All time favourite ship? Aziraphale/Crowley. Honorable mention to the crack ship I’ll go down with: The Bookshop/The Bentley.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Still unnamed. Serial art thief Anthony Crowley/FBI agent Ezra Fell. Slow burn. And I mean slooooow burn. Currently sitting at 150k words. It will be well over 400k when completed, I think.

What are your writing strengths? Intense emotion. Intense psychological elements. Putting just the right amount of feeling into a whump fic that the pain hits that much harder.

What are your writing weaknesses? I’m still a fairly young writer. I’ve only been publishing fic for four years. I’ve only really been writing for about fifteen. Because of that, I’m still evolving very rapidly. I see it the most in my prose. I’m still learning how grammar works among other things.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? It’s fine. It can help with the story immersion. I don’t speak any other language well enough to use more than the occasional short phrase. I do have an upcoming Rennaisance Era Pirate/Witch Crowley who says quite a few Irish Gaelic expletives.

First fandom you wrote in? Warrior cats. Never published but I do still have it somewhere around here. Written in pencil so it’s fading fast. 😆

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? YOU WOULD HAVE ME CHOOSE BETWEEN MY CHILDREN?!

Okay, I really did try. I scrolled through several times but I can’t choose. So instead, have the crack fic that I nearly got a heart attack over when someone sent an ask about it to Neil Gaiman’s inbox. 😳

Hey Sexy, Wanna Oil My Exhaust Pipe? (E)

The Bentley doesn't appreciate being left out in the cold while her demon gets it on with his angel. Fortunately, the bookshop is all too willing to engage in some fun times of their own.

Tagging: @nosferatini @theonewiththeshippinggoogles @naromoreau @startledplatypus @depressedpenguin2

[luvyeni]

"who in stray kids would be the type to accidentally get someone pregnant but not want it AT FIRST"

Ok this is hard cause starting a family is a big step. With the way the fandom is growing (and slowly becoming toxic) and the boys schedules are busy...a child just may be an added hassle (not in a bad way. I'm just saying kids are a big step).

But the members that I feel fit are Chan, Han and I.N.

Chan: I mean come on he has a breeding kink (source: my delusional brain). So a pregnancy would have been an outcome (Plus an excuse to call this man Daddy...[slams all my chips on the counter] all in. But he's still the "insomniac with wide shoulders to carry the responsibilities of being the leader". He just doesn't think he could manage all of that right now. But then again a child being half him and half his partner...his heart just might explode. After the boys smacked some sense into him (and probably held his laptop hostage) they sent him home to be with his loving partner and their child. He would totally be a great dad ( I mean he already is with all his 7 chaotic kids 😂😂).

Han: our all-rounder and ace venturing into fatherhood. Poor baby would be anxious. He feels he could not handle looking after a child when he can't even handle his own mind. But ofc Lee Know would reassure him that he doesn't have to have it figured out right now...and that no matter what he'd always be there (look I'm a sucker for Lee Know and his forever soft spot for Hannie). Plus a child with his cute cheeks... he's sold. That child would be absolutely spoiled (especially by Lee Know). And let's send our prayers now cause puberty means mini predebut Han (Hyunjin is dreading this time the most). Lullaby? I think you mean diss tracks Han made 😂😂.

I.N: wdym Baby?? He is BABY 😂😂 I genuinely think he'd be worried that he's too young to start a family...that he's too clumsy and not responsible enough. Being I.N of stray kids and now Yang Jeongin the parent...a lot to take in. But he did want to become a teacher(In addition to being a priest) cause he loves kids. And now he created a mini him and his partner 🥰. That child would definitely be spoiled and doted on by their 7 uncles. You see how they treat I.N and now imagine a baby that looks like I.N....exactly.

I've gotten about 10 different answers since asking this with good reason why for each member and it has been helpful but unfortunately i am still faced with my dilemma because it's for a smau 😭

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: sexual themes, misogyny, dominance, alcohol, very lowkey hint to past abuse.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you managed to escape the castle and went looking for Sihtric, but how careful were you?

word count: 5,2k

[part I] [part III]

Part II: The Truth.

You found out it was not hard to escape the castle. Many knew you by name, but not by face. You grabbed one of the servants' cloaks to cover your dress, which was too fancy and would most likely draw attention, and you lowered the hood to hide your face. You snuck out through the kitchen's backdoor, carrying a basket of apples to not look suspicious incase anyone would see you.

Outside, you became nervous. You remembered how earlier that day you had seen Sihtric again, as you had been staring out of the window. Just like the day before. He saw you as he rode his horse back to the stable. He made sure you could see him all too well as he got off his horse. You kept watching him and you blushed each time Sihtric looked your way, which he did a lot. He seemed to enjoy the reaction he got out of you, so he sat down and decided to sharpen his knife while facing you. He simply drove you crazy. And unable to really communicate, all you could do was exchange looks, smiles and smirks. Before he left, after Finan had called him, he smiled and winked at you. The thought of that wink made your body tremble again.

You dropped the basket of apples, took a deep breath and quietly made your way to the alehouse. You kept looking if you weren't followed, and stopped in front of the alehouse. You smelled the ale and felt the heat coming out through the entrance. Suddenly you felt this might have been a bad idea, but before you knew it, your legs carried you inside. You kept your head low as you slipped through the crowd. It was warm, noisy, and drunk men bumped into you. As you tried to make your way to an empty table, one drunk spilled his ale on your cloak. You cursed. But at least now you definitely didn't look like a princess. Once you finally sat down, your eyes started to scan the crowd, looking for the Dane. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but it must have been a while, as the spilled ale on your cloak had dried already. But you hadn't seen Sihtric anywhere yet. You started to realise this was indeed a bad idea. You saw many men with wives or whores in their lap, and some men had both. The possibility of finding Sihtric with a lady in his lap was not something you were prepared for. You decided to leave, but as you stood up you suddenly saw him. You stopped breathing for a moment. He was only several tables away from you, accompanied by Finan and a young man, who you hadn't seen before, but looked very out of place. There was no woman with Sihtric, but Finan was talking to several, while pointing at the young man. You saw a woman walk over, and she sat down in the young man's lap. The poor bastard shrieked, and Sihtric threw his head back as he laughed out loud. Sihtric slapped the young man's shoulder and squeezed it, before he looked away from them and immediately locked eyes with you. He squinted his eyes slightly as he saw you. You froze. He then gave you a mischievous smirk and took a sip from his ale. You quickly looked away, pulled your hood down further, and you made your way out of the alehouse as fast as you could. 

You cursed yourself as you stepped outside. You had no idea who he really was, and yet you came alone to the alehouse. You, a princess of all things. And you suddenly feared that if he'd find out who you were, he would most definitely take you hostage and demand silver for your release. Or worse, he could just kill you. Or hump you, and then kill you. Afterall, the priest said he was a brute. And since he was a Dane, this behaviour was expected. You shuddered and quickly walked the empty road back to the castle. You had reached the stables when suddenly a low, male voice spoke and startled you.

'Lady,' the low voice called to you. 

You gasped and froze. The voice sounded at least 10 steps away from you. The street was empty, and you contemplated running away, for the castle was close. But you also knew it was more than likely that whoever was calling you, would be faster than you. 

You slowly turned around, keeping your head down and your face covered.

'Show me your face, woman,' the voice said, amused. 

You heard him take two steps closer towards you, and you closed your eyes. You took a deep breath, not knowing if the man who spoke to you was a guard who would take you back to the castle, or worse, if it was the Dane.

'Lady,' the man sounded impatient now, stepping closer.

You knew there was no way out, and with trembling hands you lifted your hood off and opened your eyes. You slowly looked up and locked eyes with the man, who was now only a few steps away from you.

Sihtric. 

You clenched your jaw upon seeing him and tried to swallow, but your mouth had gone dry and your cheeks turned red. Luckily it was dark, so he couldn't tell.

'Yeah… I thought it was you,' Sihtric smiled, and he looked you up and down, 'you enjoyed watching me?' he asked, raising an eyebrow as he bit his tongue between his teeth.

You didn't answer him, your voice would tremble if you spoke now.

He took another step closer, which made you take a step back.

'What, you lost your tongue?' he asked, 'or did you not enjoy what you saw?'

'No,' you replied hoarsely, taking another step back. 

But you were abruptly stopped as your back hit a wall. Unknowingly, you had backed yourself into the stable wall. The same wall that had hidden Sihtric from view yesterday, except from yours. And you knew that if he wanted to hurt you, no one would see it.

He sensed your fear, chuckled, and took another step towards you. He was now so close that you could feel his body heat. And you smelled the ale in his breath as he moved his face closer to yours, looking deep into your eyes. And in that moment, the burning torch which lit the dark stable, revealed his mismatched eyes and the scars on his beautiful, yet dangerous face. 

'No?' Sihtric repeated you, gently lifting your chin up with his hand. 

He softly brushed his rough thumb over your lower lip and squinted his eyes, as if he was inspecting you.

'Hmm, no,' he spoke softly, 'I can see you didn't lose your tongue. So you mean to tell me that, no, you didn't like what you saw?' he asked, and he became cocky.

His warmth, his attitude and the touch of his hand had made you forget how to talk for a moment.

He looked away, smiled, shook his head and then looked back into your eyes. 

'So, how long were you watching me yesterday?'

'Long enough,' you blurted out, surprised at how confident you managed to sound.

'Oh, really?' he smirked, and gently pushed his body against yours, 'So, do you watch other men too?'

You became dizzy as you felt his breath on your lips. You desperately wanted to taste him.

You closed your eyes as you tried to shake that thought, but it didn't help that Sihtric slid his hand down to your neck. And you could see the mischief in his eyes when you opened yours. 

'Do… you… tease other women too?' you managed to ask. 

You were sure he could feel your heartbeat, as you expected him to wrap his hand around your throat. Which you secretly hoped he would do. And you hoped he would kiss you, and that he would tighten his grip around your throat as he did, letting you know he was in charge. But instead, he let go of you. He smirked and took a few steps back and he composed himself. His back straight, his chin up and his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat.

'No, lady,' he said, suddenly politely, 'you caught my eye, so I only tease you. But if you are spoken for, then allow me to apologise-'

'I am not spoken for,' you interrupted, being surprised by his manners, 'and I do not look at other men.'

Sihtric nodded, somewhat confused. He brought his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed it as he spoke.

'I thought that… you know,' he mumbled, 'that a king always beds his servants.'

'I am no servant,' you snapped.

'Then why do you live in the castle?'

'I am… I am a nun,' you lied, as confident as you could.

Sihtric looked at you for a moment and then burst into laughter.

'A nun?' he asked through his laugh. 

You let out a nervous chuckle and tried to laugh along.

But then his smile disappeared, almost as fast as it had appeared. He rushed towards you, and before you realised it, he had already shoved you back against the stable wall. He grabbed your arms firmly and pressed his forehead against yours. 

'So you're God's woman, hm?' he licked his lips, 'does He not forbid you any form of pleasure?' he asked with a low, threatening voice.

'Y… yes,' you stuttered.

'Then why did you watch me?' he breathed heavily, 'and why did you come look for me tonight?'

You didn't answer him. And you felt that you should be scared now, and maybe you were, but his low voice and his dominance turned you on more than anything else.

He brought his face down to your ear, never loosening his grip on you, and you became dizzy again when you heard his heavy breathing.

'You lie to me,' he growled, 'I think your god wants me to punish you for that sin.'

'Will you?' you almost moaned, and you pushed your body against his.

Sihtric released your arms and quickly slid one hand up the back of your head. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head slightly back, his grip strong and tight. You couldn't help but moan as he did, and you saw the hunger in his eyes when he looked at you. Making you feel a strange mixture of fear and lust. 

'You wish to play with me, lady?' his voice was deep and guttural, 'you are no nun, you aren't wearing a cross. And you say you are no servant. So, are you a whore then?'

You knew he had come back from battle only a day ago, and you also knew that many warriors used whores to find relief after those battles.

He bit his lower lip and moved his hand down to your hip. Sihtric's grip on you was hard, as was his breathing, and you could feel he had bruised you already. 

'I am no whore, but…' you said, breathing heavily, and you grabbed onto the leather belt around his waist, making him clench his jaw. You looked into his hungry eyes as he slipped his other hand under your cloak, and dug his fingers into your waist. 

'But?' he asked.

And he pulled you towards him, moving his hand smoothly down your thigh without taking his eyes off you, shoving your dress up to your thigh. 

You gasped at his touch, and he pushed your legs apart with his knee, in one swift move. He placed his hand behind your knee and pulled it up to his hip. 

Sihtric positioned himself between your thighs, allowing you to feel how hard he was, and he used his whole body to push you back against the wall again.

'I am no whore,' you said again, pushing your hips against his, making him groan.

'But if you wish to hump me, you-'

'Gods, I wish to,' he grunted. 

And before you could finish your sentence, Sihtric had you turned around already. He tore off your cloak, exposing your shoulders and your dress. He dragged you over to a fence, just outside of the stables. You felt his warm, strong hand on the back of your neck, and you willingly let him bent you over the fence. As you waited for him to continue, he suddenly noticed your dress. It was clean. And pretty. Unlike those of the woman he ever had before you. 

You heard a low growl escape his lips, and his grip on the back of your neck tightened.

'Not a servant,' he spoke in a husky whisper, 'not a nun and not a whore. And yet you live with the king,' he paused, 'so you must be important.'

And suddenly you felt your fear come back. You already learned that Sihtric was unpredictable. And he now understood you were not just any woman, but a woman of importance. 

He pulled you up, facing him.

'Have you ever been with a Dane?' he asked, catching his breath.

You shook your head.

'Is it wrong for you to be touched by a Dane?'

'Yes,' you admitted, 'but I don't care if it is wrong.'

Then he smiled, turned you around, wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you against his chest.

'Lady,' he whispered in your ear, 'then I give you my word. I will do everything to make it feel right for you.'

And with those words, you forget everything you were ever taught about the Danes. All you wanted was to feel this man inside you. You didn't care if you got caught, or that he was a pagan, or if he could be dangerous. Sihtric's arms around you made you feel as if nothing could hurt you in this moment. You placed your hands on his arm bracers and you closed your eyes.

You allowed his warm, soft lips on your neck, playfully kissing his way down to your shoulder, making you slowly relaxed into his arms.

'Does this feel right?' Sihtric panted, as he felt your body weaken against his.

'Hmm,' you moaned.

'Good girl,' he whispered, 'but what is a good girl doing with a man like me?'

He tightened his embrace and softly bit your ear.

'I can't… get you out of… of my head,' you breathed heavily, 'ever… since I … since I saw you… ye-... yesterday'. 

'I can't get you out of my head either.'

'Then please,' you begged, 'please, I want you. I just want you. You don't know how I long for you.'

He spun you back around and he looked deeply into your eyes. And you swore you could see that the hunger in his eyes was making place for vulnerability and hope.

'You want me?' he asked quietly.

'You have no idea,' you smiled.

He smirked, albeit somewhat broken, and he placed one hand on your neck and he started to kiss you. Roughly at first, tightening his grip on your neck and biting your lip in between kisses. Letting you feel how he desired you.

As you became more at ease with Sihtric, you moved one hand up into his hair, and used your other hand to pull at his leather armour. 

You felt him smile against your lips as you moved your hand slowly up his arm, and you quickly learned that the more you touched Sihtric, the needier he became.

And soon he started to kiss you more gently, softly licking your lips after he bit them, before he pulled away to gaze into your eyes.

You took his face and pulled his lips back against yours, kissing him real slow this time. 

You allowed his tongue into your mouth, tasting his lust, his desire, his passion and his hunger. Quickly, you both started to moan into each other's mouths, and you began to feel that you weren't "just a lady to hump" to him. There was more to this. 

You could taste it in his kiss now, and feel it in his hands.

He wanted to feel desired too.

But then Sihtric broke the kiss, shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. 

'No, not like this,' he mumbled under his breath, as he rested his face against yours. 

And you understood that the Dane would not take you now, not here at the stables, even if he really wanted to. You were no whore to him.

You both tried to catch your breath, and started to laugh as your bodies were still pressed against each other. You did not want to let go of him, and you felt Sihtric had the same need to keep you close. You both knew that the tension between the two of you was something special. And you did not want to lie to him anymore, you wanted him to know who you really were. 

You took his face in your hands and looked into his eyes.

'Sihtric,' you whispered.

'Hmm, you know my name?' his voice was weak, and he looked at you with near love-drunk eyes.

'Yes,' you smiled at him, 'the priests are not very fond of you here.'

He chuckled.

'I don't care about them', he whispered, 'I only want you to be fond of me.'

He leaned in again and kissed you deeply, lovingly, and you gladly let him.

'Wait,' you said as you broke his kiss.

'I don't want to wait,' he murmured, almost begging, and he brought his lips to yours again.

'Sihtric,' you giggled, 'but I have to tell you something,' you became serious.

He restrained himself and looked at you.

'I'm actually…', and as you tried to tell him the truth, you both heard rapid footsteps approaching. 

You and Sihtric both looked up and you froze to the ground when you saw Father Beocca storming towards you.

'What in God's name are you doing!?' Beocca whispered angrily at you.

You looked at him, shocked, eyes wide. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

'And you?' he asked Sihtric, equally as angry, and he slapped the back of his head.

'Father?' Sihtric winced, confused, rubbing his hand over his head.

'You should know better than to try and hump a princess!' Beocca snapped at him. 

Beocca took your arm and pulled you out of Sihtric's embrace.

'Father,' Sihtric said again, but he couldn't say anything else.

He looked puzzled at you, and then back to Beocca.

'I-,' Sihtric stammered.

'No!' Beocca fummed, and he tried to drag you away, but you broke out of his grip.

'He doesn't know, Beocca!' you hissed, 'I was about to tell him, but then-'

'Then what?' Beocca snarled, 'then you decided you'd let him disgrace you first? Good Heavens, what are you thinking?

'No!' you quietly yelled, 'then you barged in!'

'Do you think that having a bastard's child will make your situation better?' Beocca said as he threw up his arms in disbelief.

Sihtric could not bring himself to speak, as he did not understand what was going on. 

You looked at him, and then down to the ground.

"Sihtric,' you said quietly, refusing to look at him, 'I am Alfred's daughter. The one who was sent to a monastery.'

Sihtric's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

'Princess,' he gasped.

He took a step back and kneeled before you, keeping his head down.

'No, no, get up, please,' you said, 'I do not wish to be treated differently.' 

You walked over to Sihtric, only to be stopped by Beocca before you reached the Dane.

Sihtric looked up as Beocca grabbed your arm, keeping you away from him.

'No,' Beocca hissed at you.

You flinched at him, and a sudden look of rage come over Sihtric's face. He stood up, took a step towards Beocca and reached for his knife.

'Go on, kill me now, Dane, and you know you will never see her again,' Beocca threatened.

Sihtric froze and hissed through his teeth, 'But, Father, I did not know!'

'And now you do,' Beocca said, 'you will be hanged if this comes out! Do not go near her again if you want to live.'

'But, Father-'

'No!' Beocca interrupted, 'the only man she will ever love is God,' he said as he dragged you away, 'so do not waste your time.'

That is a lie!' you yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

Beocca stopped and muttered something to the sky.

'This,' Beocca said, while gesturing between you and Sihtric, 'can never be. You are a Christian, and a princess! He is a Dane, and a heathen!' Beocca paused, 'and a rat.'

'Really,' Sihtric shrugged, 'have you forgotten that easily about 'Thyra?' he snapped.

Thyra?' you asked, but both men didn't hear you.

'Boy,' Beocca snapped back at Sihtric, getting up into his face, 'do you not remember what happened to her?' his voice broke slightly, but he composed himself, 'you listen to me, son, you will not go near the princess again. Or I will baptise you myself before they hang you, so you will rest in Heaven. No Valhalla for you, do you understand?'

Sihtric threw his hands up and backed off. 

'Okay, okay,' he said and he clenched his jaw.

You looked at Sihtric, and thought he was not that much of a brute now, for he didn't even put up a fight against a priest.

And before Beocca dragged you back inside the castle, you glanced one last time over your shoulder.

You saw how Sihtric dragged his hands down over his bewildered face, and then furiously kicked at the stable wall, letting out a deep, angry growl.

'Sihtric,' your voice broke.

And that was the last you saw of him.

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter Twelve

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twelve: One Hell of a Crisis

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian handle the issues aboard the train before having an encounter with Claude.

            After a few minutes of running, (Y/N) and Sebastian looked out over the train below them, farther down the hill they overlooked. Ahead lay a divergence in the track. On one side was a town where there would be a stop and the bomb the kidnapper left would explode. On the other, the track continued. It was clear what the demons needed to do.

            “Forks would hit better from here,” said (Y/N).

            “I agree,” said Sebastian. He threw three forks from his jacket pocket. The cutlery precisely hit the levers on the side of the track, switching the train’s path from the station to continuing on tracks.

            The demons leapt down from the hill onto the locomotive of the train. The conductor was staring at the change in direction in shock.

            “Excuse us,” said (Y/N). The conductor whirled on them. “There is a bomb on this train that will detonate when it stops. Do not pull the brakes, whatever you do.”

            “H-Huh?” The conductor was not given an answer as (Y/N) and Sebastian entered the passenger cars again.

            “Ah! You’re Phantomhive’s butler and maid!” exclaimed Fred from where he was curled up with a stomach ache.

            “Where is the Young Master?” asked Sebastian curtly.

            “He went to save a child in the freight carriage,” said Fred.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. Ciel was likely running straight into trouble or had done so already.

            The door opened behind them, and the nervous conductor cleared his throat to speak to the passengers. “I-I came to inform you…Not long ago, the train switched to a different track and is now headed in another direction. On our current course, we are heading towards an unused iron bridge. It probably won’t be able to withstand the weight of this train, so our final destination…” He swallowed. “Will probably be heaven!”

            There was a moment of silence as the passengers absorbed the information. Then chaos broke out as people screamed and ran about. (Y/N) was just impressed by the conductor’s delivery of the news as if it was a normal change in destination (though they were cursing their bad luck that a bomb prevented them from stopping but the tracks were also going to run out).

            “Then, we’d better stop this train quickly,” said a new voice.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched as they faced the other end of the passenger car. A man walked into the room holding Ciel as a hostage with a knife to his neck. Ciel looked annoyed. (Y/N) was irritated by the multitude of issues being thrown their way.

            Sebastian was amused. “Young Master. So you have been taken hostage once again. It really seems like you enjoy being captured.”

            “What are you talking about?” huffed Ciel.

            “So…it was you.” The “priest” stood up. His face twisted in anger. “Johnny the Slaughterer.”

            The passengers froze as yet another emergency appeared; the murderer had escaped containment.

            “Look who’s here. Jack-Knife Hayward,” said Johnny. He brought the knife to Ciel’s throat again before addressing everyone present. “You can guess what’ll happen to this boy if someone doesn’t stop the train, right?”

            “We would all like the train to stop, I assure you,” said (Y/N). They smiled brightly. “But if it does, a bomb planted by a kidnapper will detonate.”

            The murderer now looked as confused and worried as the rest of the passengers.

            Fred groaned and pulled himself to a seated position. “A-And there’s also a cholera outbreak.”

            Hell, our luck is terrible, thought (Y/N).

            “A train with a bomb inside, heading for a shabby bridge, and as if that’s not enough, there’s cholera, too?” listed off Johnny incredulously.

            “Indeed.” Sebastian shook his head ruefully. “It’s a full-course critical situation.”

            “Enough with this farce,” said Ciel. “Sebastian, (Y/N), do something to resolve this situation. Now. That’s an order, Sebastian.”

            “Yes, my Lord.” Sebastian bowed.

            “I am tired of this mess,” remarked (Y/N) in agreement.

            “Enough of this!” said Johnny. “I don’t care about cholera or bombs. I’ll get out of this on my own!” He pulled Ciel with him and exited the room.

            “Young Master!” Sebastian moved after him, but Fred caught him around the waist.

            “Wait! You’re just servants! This is too much for you,” said Fred. “At a time like this, we should rely on the help of all the professionals who happen to be gathered aboard this train! Let’s join forces and fight against evil.”

            I preferred his brother. (Y/N)’s nose twitched.

            “I see. You’re being quite optimistic,” said Sebastian.

            “He may be right,” said Jack (Jack-Knife Hayward). “In the past, I also made a living as an assassin.” He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal more of his tattoos. “Then, Johnny killed someone important to me, so I decided to quit and become a priest. A passage of the Bible says, ‘Thou art thine enemy.’ It’s time to bring this matter to a close. But I currently have no weapons.”

            “Use this.” The grumpy Japanese man unwrapped his precious parcel. He extended a katana to Jack. “This katana, Zantoumaru, is a treasure handed down through our family. I brought it with me to pass on to my son, who is studying here, but I think it will be better employed helping you.”

            “Then, you can leave the bomb to me,” declared the archaeologist, standing up. “I happen to have worked with timing devices when excavating ruins. Normally, you have two cords: a black one and a red one. One is a dummy. If you cut the right one, you’ll succeed in deactivating the bomb, but if you get it wrong, then BOOM! The only problem is that it will take time to locate the bomb.”

            “Oh! Maybe we’re safe!” cried the timetable obsessed man. “The switch ahead is important! If we switch at the track bound for High Peak, then switch again at the following point…Oh! We can gain twenty minutes!”

            “Oh, yay!” cried the passengers as ideas were thrown out.

            (Y/N) wasn’t sold, and although they were impressed, they trusted their and Sebastian’s abilities much more. Sebastian though the same and opened a window.

            He smiled. “Thank you for very much, but we can do it alone.”

            As the passenger’s blinked in confusion, the demons flipped outside onto the roof of the train. Ahead of them, Johnny was dragging Ciel towards the back of the train.

            “You’re persistent,” huffed Johnny.

            “Please hand over the Young Master,” said Sebastian.

            “Yeah…Just wait there. I’m coming,” said Johnny.

            (Y/N) nearly rolled their eyes. He clearly had something he supposed was “clever” in mind. However, it wouldn’t work.

            “I won!”

            Johnny dropped to the ground as the train sped towards a tunnel, grinning madly as he expected Sebastian and (Y/N) to be killed upon impact with the tunnel’s ceiling. His eyes widened with horror, instead. Sebastian stood tall, his head burrowing through the ceiling with ease since his demonic self was stronger than the stone that did no harm. (Y/N) had at the last moment bent into a backbend, contorting themself past human capabilities.

            Sebastian stepped forward towards Johnny when the train exited the tunnel. Johnny let go of Ciel in fear and scrambled back.

            “Here, Young Master,” said Sebastian, extending a hand.

            “Y-You’re monsters!” cried Johnny.

            (Y/N) picked up Johnny by the collar, and the man trembled at the strength of the maid. “Goodbye, murderer.” They tossed him off the train.

            “Now, for the bomb,” said Sebastian. He turned and grabbed the edges of the train car. “Even if there were red or black cords…” He lifted the ceiling from the train, revealing the bomb attached to the inside. “…there would be no need to choose between them.” Sebastian through the ceiling into the air, and the bomb detonated far above them.

            “Hey. Think of the passengers,” said Ciel, glancing at the man in the cloak and hat, still sitting at a table.

            “All is well,” said Sebastian pleasantly.

            “That was the dining car,” said (Y/N).

            “Besides, that passenger…” Sebastian trailed off when he and (Y/N) met each other’s gaze. “Oh, well. Next is the bridge problem.”

            Sebastian and (Y/N) jumped from the roof and ran to the front of the train, stopping on the tracks before the bridge. The two planted their feet. The train approached. They were hit. However, their strength outperformed the engine of the train, and it slowed to a stop before hitting the unstable bridge. It hung on the edge with the two demons in front.

            “You barely made it,” said Ciel, climbing down from the roof.

            “How could we be Phantomhive servants if we could not properly cook a full course critical situation?” said Sebastian smugly.

            “Besides, everyone is disembarking as we speak, all in one piece,” said (Y/N) as the three walked to see the rest of the passengers getting off the train.

            “Y-You’re wonderful, Mr. Butler, Mx. Maid,” said Fred, stumbling towards them and holding his stomach.

            “Right! The cholera outbreak.” Ciel looked at (Y/N) and Sebastian. That was the last crisis to solve. “There’s a chance that all the passengers might be infected.”

            “Of course not. No one has cholera,” said (Y/N), smirking when Ciel turned to them in confusion. “They have stomachaches. If you recall, they all ate the eel pie on the menu and then had rice balls with plum. Eel and plum are not a good combination, and together they caused the pains of what people assumed was cholera.” They held up a vial. “Digestive medicine should do the trick.” They tossed the vial to Fred, who eagerly swallowed and jumped up when he felt better. (Y/N) smirked. “Humans have such sensitive stomachs; they should know better than to mix certain foods.”

            “You two aren’t ordinary servants,” said Fred, looking at (Y/N) and Sebastian.

            “We are a hell of a pair of servants,” said Sebastian.

            “Sebastian, ensure the passengers disembark safely,” said Ciel. “And make sure my luggage is unharmed.”

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian. He and (Y/N) walked towards the freight car. Sebastian broke off to check on some passengers, and (Y/N) went to check the luggage.

            (Y/N) picked up Ciel’s valise and, content with its intactness, turned to leave. They were met with Claude standing directly before them.

            “(Y/N) Noir,” said Claude simply.

            (Y/N) didn’t flinch at him knowing their current human name. Just as Sebastian had investigated him and the Trancy Manor, it followed that Claude would investigate them. “Claude Faustus.” Not letting him initiate the conversation, they looked him up and down judgmentally and tsked. “For a butler, you’re not very put together. Why, you have frosting all over your nose.” (They absolutely knew them and Sebastian dealing with the train had caused it, but they weren’t about to leave Claude a chance to speak).

            Claude didn’t flinch at their words either, but he opened his mouth, and his long tongue reached up to lick the frosting away. (Y/N)’s nose twitched in distaste.

            “You work for the Phantomhives, correct? Alongside, what is it now, ‘Sebastian Michaelis?’ ” said Claude.

            “You know I do.” (Y/N) didn’t play games. Well, not with demons such as Claude.

            “And yet you have no contract.” Claude’s eyes traced over them. The curiosity rested lightly in his words. “I suppose you play this part for entertainment. It must be getting boring. Perhaps you’ll find a more…stimulating environment.”

            “As you could see today, life is never boring at the Young Master’s side.” Sebastian stepped up beside (Y/N). His words were amiable, but his gaze was hard as his eyes met Claude’s. He didn’t like the other demon approaching (Y/N).

            “No, it is not,” agreed (Y/N). They raised an eyebrow distastefully at Claude. “I doubt I could find anything more ‘stimulating’ between contracts. Certainly not in a den of thieves.” The jab at Claude stealing Ciel’s soul was clear.

            “I can see you’re quite content,” observed Claude, his eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly as he looked between the raven and cat demons.

            “What called you into our business today?” said Sebastian, curtly moving to the point. He wouldn’t dance around the point with Claude, the thief of Ciel’s soul, especially not when the demon’s attention was so enraptured with (Y/N).

            Claude’s eyes moved from (Y/N) to Sebastian, and he pulled a letter from his pocket. “If you’d like to investigating His Highness, you need only enter through the front gate.” He knew Ciel was looking into the Queen’s Spider after her mention of his involvement in cases that grew suspiciously criminal. He also knew Sebastian didn’t want Ciel near the Trancy Manor in case anything went wrong with his memories and soul, but Sebastian would have to let Ciel go once Claude continued to speak. “Besides, you want to help Young Master Ciel exact his revenge, do you not?”

            Sebastian plucked the letter from his hand. (Y/N) glanced over and read the invitation. It was to a costume ball for Halloween.

            “I shall see you there,” said Claude, turning and walking away.

            (Y/N) and Sebastian didn’t respond. Sebastian already knew he would go. He had been searching for a way to bring Ciel’s soul to maturity once more, and he was capable of dealing with Claude in order to get his meal. (Y/N) would go because Sebastian did. They wouldn’t let him go to the Trancy Manor, the den of demons, as a lone demon versus a group.

            Sebastian knew they would come, but he was torn. On the one hand, having them near would satisfy his own desires and also mean he could be at their side if the Trancy demons attempted anything. On the other hand, Sebastian wanted (Y/N) nowhere near Claude. He had seen Claude’s reaction when they had appeared.

            The moment Claude had taken in their demonic aura, there had flashed in his golden eyes something wild. He had torn a piece of (Y/N)’s skirt away in his attempt to grab them. And now he had approached them and insinuated they should leave the Phantomhive household and come to the Trancy Manor for a more “stimulating” experience.

            Sebastian’s eyes flashed fuchsia. He didn’t like the way Claude looked at (Y/N). He didn’t like the way his eyes followed them covetously. Claude was planning something, and now it didn’t just involve Ciel. It involved (Y/N).

l

            (Y/N) wouldn’t be tempted from the Phantomhive household. No…that wasn’t right. No, (Y/N) wouldn’t be tempted from Sebastian. Claude couldn’t understand it, but (Y/N) was remaining by their former mentor’s side. Not even the promise of more entertainment (which His Highness was constantly creating, if a bit impetuous and vulgar with Hannah) interested the younger demon.

            That was alright, though. Claude didn’t need to rely on words and promises to draw (Y/N) in. His plans were along far different lines. Claude preferred a more action-oriented plan, anyways.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

[wordsandgears]

Midnight burger posting at midnight

In an Au where the EX “rescued” Ted (A.K.A hostage/ forced vacation as Casper puts it) along with Casper:

Casper’s whole thing with Ted is to get him out of his shell (he sees himself in Ted and hates that he can relate to the helplessness of determinism and its shackles, for he too once felt the burden of mundanity)

Ted’s adamant that someone is coming to get him and almost ejects them out into space in whatever vessel the EX was driving

(the EX is very good at holding people in place)

Every time they stop somewhere they have to wrangle him in, I picture Casper making a joke about needing to get one of those child leashes for him

That usually makes him so offended that he forgets about escaping and they can carry on with their journey

Wherever they are Ted has something to say about the state and the use of whatever planet/space object they’re on (Ted propaganda, always some sort of false)

Very unwelcome in red’s rectangle (should’ve stayed behind but is very untrustworthy)

Ted’s wild west persona would be a priest with a past more sullied than an oil spill in the ocean.

Escalating tensions with his tries of descalations of repeating laws and penal codes, not really playing along but also not not playing along.

Not as smooth as Casper and not as gung ho as Ex,

Like Casper in the before Throwing-Ava-into-deep-space times Ted would be adamantly against any “meaningless” detours that extend their time together.

Helping with the jailbreak cements the fact that Ted is a traitor, and a bittersweet (at lest in Ted standards) reunion makes him finally look back in his actions, though outwardly he acts the same to most

(except to Casper and Ex due to the fact that being that powerful and that old you could probably read anyone)

At the battle of time’s melody Ted is solemn yet abrasively uncooperative

There’s three ending for Ted in this Au. (1.like Canon he wonders the universe, by his own valuation) ((2.he gose with BurtBurt to simply see what’ll happen, maybe to gain some semblance of routine he once had)) (((3.and most outlandishly, he stays and raised plant babies with a sentient bush and inter dimensional robot)))

Character design

BurtBurt - I imagine she always wears a fur coat, like most people of her race she has three sets of arms, one set is always crossed and another always has a pen and paper in hand. Her hair has cartoony swirls at the ends and her skin is a very pale pink

Verge - basically double trouble from she-Ra but blue, wears the space equivalent of any weather survivalist gear. Color blind

Minski - a more human humanoid spider, looks human except for the six arms protruding out the back and eight pitch black eyes. Waits finely tailored suits.

Shell - looks like a bush, has holly berries growing on them sorta like a birthmark or defining characteristic

Ava - how I imagine manuela dominguez form the magnus archives, white lab coat, long straight thick black hair, brown skinned.

Gloria - a Mexican Justina Machado, long dark brown curly hair that reaches her back that’s always tied in a bun or ponytail, her outfits are always pristine and bright as if she just got them that day.

Casper - Jake Johnson, grey hairs

Leif - just Leif

Random thoughts

PolyBurger should be a thing - let the employees and the boss and the regular kiss while HR looks on in jovial disapproval.