#again depends on the whims of fate

[atissi]

second commission for @tokidorito: just a normal catholic. character uses any pronouns

[tanmono]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN MAIN ROUTE....

CHAPTER TWO.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

minors and ageless blogs dni.

Recently, I became Prince Gilbert’s friend.

I just returned to the castle from the city's bookstore, not feeling alive.

Gilbert: Come to think of it, friends are supposed to eat together.

Prince Gilbert, who seems to be in a good mood all the time, said it on a whim.

I was already exhausted, and all I could only return was the worn out smile.

Gilbert: Starting tomorrow, every meal and your portion will be prepared next to me.

Emma: And if I say no...

Gilbert: Eh— What? You want to hear about my military campaign?

Emma: I mean, i would be very delighted to be with Prince Gilbert!

Gilbert: Haha, I'm glad you are.

Emma: ………..

Gilbert: See you, little rabbit.

Prince Gilbert easily flips off his cloak and turned his steps toward the guest room.

The moment his back was out of sight, my breath spilled out involuntarily.

(Let's go to Sariel quickly.)

Even after the tramped beast disappeared, the unpleasant palpitations took away my body temperature, and my hands seemed to tremble.

It feels like I have been forced into an extreme situation with a wall in front and a tiger in the back.

(……I don't want to cry, but I feel like I’m going to.)

As I started walking with my face low down, I bumped into something and fell down with a thud.

Emma: Oh, I'm sorry—

Chevalier: ………..

Emma: ……Your highness.

Chevalier: …………

Emma: Prince Chevalier?

Prince Chevalier looked down at me with icy cold eyes, not saying anything.

The cold-hearted prince, who is the leader of the foreign government faction and is sometimes called "The ruthless and merciless as a cruel beast."

Without changing his expression at all, he turned back the way he came.

(Oh, I guess we’re not going out.)

As I stand there, then Prince Chevalier looked back at me, who just tilted his chin.

(You want me to follow you?)

I followed Prince Chevalier to his secret library room.

(I didn't know such a place like this existed.)

What stored on the bookshelf are more of artistic in nature, such as plays, poetry, and stories, rather than books of a practical nature.

Had my mood weren’t so dull, I would have jumped on it.

Chevalier: I heard you went to town with eye patch.

Standing by the window of the moonlight, Prince Chevalier finally speaks.

Chevalier: What did he ask for?

(I'm guessing you can pretty much tell what the situation was rather than asking "what happened").

Emma: It's about being friends.

Chevalier: …………..

Even I, who has only been staying here as Belle for a short time, could see that Prince Chevalier is by far the most intelligent of the eight princes.

Even for such a prince, "friends" seems to have been so unexpected that a short silence fell.

Chevalier: Why did he asked you to be his friend?

Emma: I didn't really understand it either, but...

Thinking back to my exchange with Prince Gilbert, I told Prince Chevalier about exactly what I saw and heard.

Eventually my words died down and the stacks were enveloped in the silence of night.

(Looking back, there was a lot of mystery, but all I know is that there is some sort of plot.)

Emma: Prince Chevalier... Is there a way I can break off this friendship?

Chevalier: Why do you need to break off?

Emma: ...... I feel like the fate of my country depends on me, and I'm scared.

I still can't stop my palpitations of my heart because there is a possibility that the beautiful rose will be stained with blood again depending on my words and actions.

The heavy responsibility as "Belle" is just too much for me, and I don't think I can handle it any longer.

I bite my lip and Prince Chevalier snickers dismissively.

Chevalier: Don't be conceited

Chevalier: Our country is not fragile enough to be influenced by the words and actions of a little girl.

Chevalier: Your statement is almost like you’re saying that I'm incompetent, correct?

(……. That's right.)

There are eight noble fields in the Rhodolite.

Their duty is to protect the country – and what I have just said now is equivalent in saying that they will not be able to fulfill that responsibility.

(Even though the princes of Rhodolite would never lose to Prince Gilbert.)

Chevalier: You are a fool to take his threats seriously.

Emma: .... My apologies.

(I am not alone.)

I felt that the thread of tension that had tightened my heart had suddenly loosened.

Chevalier: There is no need for a verbal apology.

Emma: Ah—

I felt the pressure of his finger poking my forehead and I raise my eyebrows involuntarily.

(Being bitten and poked……. What a mess today.)

Chevalier: As punishment, you must show me your sincerity.

Emma: Sincerity……?

Chevalier: Yes, in fact, I was just thinking of ways to use you

Prince Chevalier, who suddenly lifted the corner of his lips, had the same face as that trampling beast.

Chevalier: Be my pawn, simpleton.

Emma: Pawn?

Chevalier: As your "friend," I'm asking you to find out what you know.

(……!)

Emma: In other words ....... a spy?

Chevalier: An exclusive one.

The proposal was offered took my breath away.

(I see. ...... I thought "friends" was all bad, but it's good to use it the other way around.)

Why did Prince Gilbert showed up at the diplomatic arena and decide to stay at Rhodolite for a long period of time?

In the first place, why did Obsidian who had been severing relations for a long time, start moving now?

There is too little information at hand to counter unknown threats.

But Prince Gilbert should know most of the answers that Rhodolite is looking for.

(If I manage well, I might learn a thing or two.)

(And based on that, Prince Chevalier and the others can take measures.)

When I looked up at him, he snickered at me again.

Chevalier: By the way, exclusive spies don't leak information to anyone other than their master.

Chevalier: You know what this means, don't you?

Emma: .....You mean don't tell the other princes?

Chevalier: Yes. Report to me alone about any and all important findings regarding the eye patch.

Chevalier: Trust neither the prince, nor the bureaucrats, nor the servants, nor your butler, nor anyone else.

Emma: Why is that—

Chevalier: A number of people from Obsidian's side have already infiltrated the castle.

Accepting those words that were calmly told to me felt like swallowing the thorns of a rose.

(But... I knew it.)

(If Prince Gilbert knows the fact I am "Belle", it means that someone has leaked the information.)

Someone "who" is likely to be in a position to gain access to Belle’s national security information.

The prince, some courtiers and Rio are the candidates.

(I want to believe in everyone, but I need to accept reality for what it is.)

Chevalier: Above all, the trampling beast specializes in "dominating others and manipulating them at will"

Chevalier: It is entirely possible that today's allies could become tomorrow's enemies.

(I don't even want to think that such a terrible thing will happen....)

I am sure that Prince Chevalier knows more about Prince Gilbert than I do.

(And I'm not someone else's problem either.)

I already know that there is no "choice" in the options given by Prince Gilbert.

Emma: .... I'll keep that in mind.

Nodding in acknowledgment of the pain, Prince Chevalier pulls out something shiny gold from his pocket pants.

It was placed on my hand.

Emma: This is….?

(Tiger emblem pin badge...insignia maybe?)

Each prince is given a coat of arms.

The personal servants and knights wear plain insignia on their uniforms.

It was the first time I had ever seen anything from Prince Chevalier.

Chevalier: I can predict what the eye patch will do next.

Chevalier: That thing is going to make some nasty demands in the future. In that case, there should be no time to let Glasses be the judge of that.

(Glasses ........ I think you mean Sariel.)

Chevalier: You can make your decision. No need to ask permission every time.

Chevalier: I will take full responsibility for everything regarding your words and actions.

( —! So that’s what this insignia is for.)

It may be a small batch, but the meaning behind it is significant.

Emma: ...... Is it really okay?

Chevalier: As long as it fulfills its role.

Chevalier: I will protect you as long as you are useful to me.

Chevalier: If you lose value, you will be thrown away at worst.

Emma: ……….

Chevalier: That's all I'm going to say.

(...... I was so anxious my hands were shaking, but before I knew it, it had subsided.)

The presence of Prince Chevalier was reassuring enough to bring the heat back to my cold fingertips.

Emma: Thank you........ I will certainly live up to your expectations.

I bowed deeply, and Prince Chevalier snorted and heads for the doorway of the library.

But his back stopped in front of the door.

Emma: ……..Prince Chevalier?

Chevalier: There was once a man who preached that the essence of a human is love.

(…….Love?)

I listened to the words spun without turning around.

Chevalier: Love in this case is compassionate for others.

Chevalier: The theory is that there are no real bad people in the world, just those who are influenced by their surroundings.

Chevalier: What do you think?

(That’s a difficult question...)

And I have never thought about it before.

I try to gather up all the words in my head, but I can't find any answers.

(You want to say that the essence of a villain is "love", right?)

The first thing that came to mind was Prince Gilbert's face.

(I wonder if there is such a thing as "love" in that guy.)

If Prince Gilbert, who can trample on people with a smile has compassion for others —

Right now, I can only lowered my head.

Emma: I don't know, but ......

Emma: I have a feeling the answer lies with Prince Gilbert.

Chevalier: …………

Prince Chevalier doesn't say anything, and this time he left the library.

(I wonder if one day I will understand the meaning of the current question.)

I clutched the insignia and engraved it in a corner of my memory.

After a long night, I nervously headed to the dining room where the guests of honor were gathered.

Emma: ……….

Silvio: ………

Keith: ………

Gilbert: You like sweets, don't you, little rabbit? See, I asked the chef to prepare a lot of them for you.

Gilbert: Eat as much as you want. Oh, and give me all what’s left.

Gilbert: Our country was in a food shortage for a while, so I don't want to waste food.

Gilbert: Hehe, I can't wait to see what you start with.

(.....What the hell is with this situation.)

Prince Silvio and Prince Keith, who stopped eating and looked stunned in front of us — Next to me was Prince Gilbert, who was smiling as he prepared a mountain of dessert for me.

To begin with, the table was set with food for about ten people, not four.

About seven of them are gathered under Prince Gilbert.

(It's strange in various ways and their gaze hurts.)

I was prepared for this from the moment I was invited to dinner, but this morning is tougher than I had imagined.

Gilbert: Go on, eat. Or do you want me to feed you instead?

Emma: Yeah, no...... Bon appétit.

(I can feel some eyes in front of me wanting to say something, but for once I'll let my mind go empty.)

With knife and fork in hand, I cut the cake into bites — then I brought it to my mouth, remembering the table manners that Sariel had taught me, but it didn't taste much.

(.........I’ve never even told Prince Gilbert I liked sweets in the first place.)

Gilbert: How is it? Does it taste good?

Emma: ….Delicious

Gilbert: Hmm.

(....... Prince Gilbert's eyes are not smiling.)

(Come to think of it, you told me before that you don't like lies? I should have been honest.)

Silvio: Hey, gloomy bastard, ya see that?

Keith: ........ Yes, In my eyes, they look like the prey and the perpetrator.

Silvio: So it's more likely that woman was forcibly handcuffed?

Keith: I'm not sure that's the right way to put it......

Gilbert: What? Do you want to know the relationship between me and little rabbit?

(…..The question is finally asked.)

Prince Silvio and Prince Keith must have been wondering about this ever since the day of the goodwill meeting.

For the friendly Benitoite and neutral Jade, the Obsidian is a symbol of threat.

They wondered about the daughter who escorted the prince of that country.

Emma: My friend.

I quickly answered before Prince Gilbert opened his mouth.

(I must prevent any word that would imply that I am "Belle".)

Silvio: Ha, don't tell me you're lying through your teeth.

Gilbert: But it’s true, though? And to prove it, I know everything about her.

Silvio: Such as?

Gilbert: There was a bakery run by an elderly couples near her house.

(!?)

Gilbert: Her hobby is to go to the hills overlooking the city with sandwich and drink in hand while reading a book.

Gilbert: She kept reading from morning till evening to the point she caught a bad cold because of that.

Gilbert: At that time, everyone in the city was worried. It seems that there was a little commotion.

(…………Only people were close to me know that.)

(And the last time I had a cold was before I met Rio, so that was at least three years ago.)

Supposedly, I would say "because I became Belle, Prince Gilbert caught his attention."

I don't think there was a spy who would report even such a trivial episode in the past that would be of no use whatsoever.

(Could it be that Prince Gilbert met me before I became "Belle"?)

(.....Impossible. Because I'm just a town girl.)

I haven’t done anything to catch the eye of the prince with great power.

Yes, I have never met Prince Gilbert in the past.

(Such a characteristic person, once I see it, I should not forget it ........)

However, it is necessary to accept the facts as facts — that Prince Gilbert probably "knows all about me".

(Just how the hell did he finds out about my private life……)

Lost in thoughts, my fingertips trembled and my fork slip to the floor.

As I rushed to bring it, Prince Gilbert cold fingers grabbed my hand.

Gilbert: Little rabbit, dropping things accidentally is something most common people do.

(Ah...)

Emma: I’m very sorry. I'm just feeling a little under the weather.

He returns to his posture and looks toward the servant who had been waiting by the wall.

The whole process of entrusting a dropped item and getting a new fork ready is one of manners.

Fortunately, Prince Silvio and Keith did not doubt that I am a duchess.

Rather, they looked at me with pity.

Silvio: From the looks of her, you got that information from somewhere, didn't you?

Gilbert: Yeah.

Silvio: No way, you know any other craps like that, do you?

Gilbert: What, you want to hear more? Well, there's about a hundred.

(...I'm getting dizzy.)

Keith: Prince Gilbert... Even if you really are her friend, you're invading too much into her private life.

Silvio: Do you know what they say about men like that?

Silvio: It's called a perverted stalker bastard.

(Prince Silvio!?)

Gilbert: Ahaha, I see. I've never heard of that word before because it doesn't exist in Obsidian.

Prince Gilbert only laughs refreshingly as he didn't seem offended.

(………….. I don't understand him.)

Emma: Where did you learn about me?

Gilbert: Secret.

After all that talkativeness. When we broached the subject, they resumed eating as if they have lost interest.

(I don’t expect you to tell me so easily but…….)

Emma: .... It's unfair.

Gilbert: Hmm?

I gathered my courage, remembering the insignia that was in my skirt pocket.

Emma: You know so much about me one way but I don't know anything about you.

Emma: Even though we’re friends, I think it's ironic. Right?

Gilbert: Haha! Indeed it is.

Unexpectedly, Prince Gilbert acknowledged my words.

Gilbert: Friendship is the process of getting to know each other. Therefore, you have the right to know about me.

Gilbert: But I guess one single mealtime isn't enough.

Gilbert: That's exactly why I need to be with you from morning to night all the time to match the amount of information I know about you.

Gilbert: Right?

(Um, why am I in such a cold sweat when I'm the one who started this?)

I placed down the knife and fork, and Prince Gilbert wrapped his hands around my fingers.

I felt like I was a rabbit in a tiger's embrace, even though I wasn't being treated violently.

Gilbert: Let me help you with your work.

Emma: What!?

Silvio and Keith: Pff– / Ah—

Prince Silvio spit out the tea he was drinking while Prince Keith dropped the cutlery he was holding on the floor.

(You want to help me?)

(You, Prince Gilbert, the trampling beast and the enemy of Rhodolite.....?)

Gilbert: You are..... well, you're helping the princes with their official duties for the sake of the dynamics, right?

Emma: ….Yes.

Of course, I don't ever recall talking to Prince Gilbert about that.

But that's how we see it externally.

(Maybe he's saying, "I'll help you select a king.")

Gilbert: If I can help you, you will stay with me forever, right?

Emma: But, Prince Gilbert, you have official duties, as well—

Gilbert: Don't worry, I can make as much time as I have to spend with you.

Gilbert: No big deal, right?

Emma: ……….

Gilbert: I wonder if there's something I can help with.

Prince Gilbert, who glanced at Prince Silvio and Prince Keith, gently narrowed his blood-colored eyes.

(If I refused, you'll bring up the topic about "Belle"?)

Swallow the proposal or be swallowed by force.

The choices given to me today were unreasonable.

(But now I have a role other than fulfilling my duty as a "Belle")

If i didn’t listened to Prince Chevalier’s advice, my mind would’ve been blank.

I casually brushed off Prince Gilbert's hand as i lifted the corner of my mouth.

Emma: ..... Understood.

Emma: If Prince Gilbert wants to help me, I'd like to take your word for it.

Silvio and Keith: Ha?! / Emma!?

Gilbert: Heeh?

Emma: Because I too... ...would like to know about Prince Gilbert.

Silvio: Woman, are you an idiot!? It's not a problem that you can manage on your own.

Emma: …….No.

(Maybe Chevalier had read the whole situations.)

If I talked to Sariel and the other princes, they will surely try to keep Prince Gilbert away from me.

But that's impossible--it's "meaningless" to Prince Gilbert.

Prince Chevalier took the lead.

(If I had refused, it could have been used as an excuse to make things more complicated.)

He really is amazing person. He reads all the movements of Prince Gilbert.

Taking out the insignia from the pocket of the skirt and put it on the chest of the blouse.

Emma: It’s no problem.

The first to react to the insignia with the tiger's crest on it was Prince Gilbert.

Gilbert: Ahaha! I see, Chevalier.

Gilbert: I guess he’s reading my actions.

Emma: …………

Prince Gilbert’s smile bursts forth, not in exasperation, but rather as if he is truly enjoying himself.

Gilbert: That's why Rhodolite is one of the best.

Gilbert: It's worth crushing, isn't it........?

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[hexonthepeach]

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 4: bound

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate's clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue] [1: escape, again] [2: lost and found] [3: returned]

wc: 5.2k

chapter warnings: none, unless you count gratuitous use of wattpad tropes

recommended listening: city lights - tvxq! u-know ft. taeyong, blueblood - ive

Crown Prince Lee Taeyong [vulpin vulpes α] - (formerly) 4th in line for the throne

Winter is dry enough they go close to land for safety, windows open as Doyoung follows old streets, deeper into Zone One towards the waterline and the tallest and brightest of the megaliths, its base spanning blocks.

Outside the buildings grow taller, choked in bare mangrove trunks and vines. Dead leaves are torn down to layer cracked concrete and flooded pits, slowly burying the old grid. Outside the Dome and walled Old Seoul nature has returned with a vengeance–plantlife genetically altered to grow with violence. 

If Neo Seoul isn't eroded by the sea, it will be retaken by the Wild in less than a century. Only the seasons keep it in check.

The barricaded walls of each skyscraper are flanked by pop-ups and clubs boosting sound and smell into the crisp night air. News drones flit back and forth like dragonflies on a swamp of those swarming in from the less wealthy Zones for resupply and entertainment. 

There's the occasional gunshot and the sound of a throttled engine from someone showing off their fuel-run monstrosity but the real spectacle is in the sky, advertisements painted in video-graffiti on every surface, cells charged by the faintest of UV to project cold colors across the broken cityscape.

Drugs, sex, cheap food delivered at a whim, without discrimination. It's only the Syndicate keeping the sheen of civility on it, their hired armies and the NSMR indulging more than they enforce any kind of protection for the masses.

The rendezvous point is one of many clancorp enclaves, a Kim puppet company takeover of an old amusement park repurposed for gladiator spectacle. He knows this place all too well–his packmates even more.

For a small price one can rent any number of ancient costumes and join the stands to watch unmodded designated draw blood–sometimes to the death. If they don't have enough bodies they crush old vehicles together like chariots, engineered for theater in the flame from their exhausts and PA systems blasting martial music.

"Is she alright?" Doyoung asks once they've purred to a stop outside the service gate of the Lottery. 

"Fine," Taeil says. He hasn't looked up once from the digital feed deck in his hand, the other still holding an IV bag to the headrest behind the small, sleeping form beside him. 

Taeyong can recognize that posture for how often his own body has been in it, the awkwardness of a human spine adopting the fox's curl. Even more, the shivering from losing a fighting battle with the drugs dripping into your system. 

You're chasing an endpoint that won't be pretty. And whatever actions or deliberation he wields tonight will decide how soon and how painfully that will manifest.

The job had been simple: retrieve the Kim clan's prized daughter. According to the dossier she'd flitted away in one of her usual fanciful adventures with a rogue pack. 

All believable lies, but he knew Garam, knew what channels to go down to confirm that it wasn't her. No aspiring heiress with eyes on the Imperatrix title would have been so careless.

He'd still agreed to the job, more out of curiosity than strategy. At first he'd thought it was one of the other Syndicate omegas—perhaps a daughter from a less-wealthy branch with a reputation for roaming outside the Dome. 

He'd sent out the ops team with that instinctual tingle on the edge of his mind, more worried about involving Nyctos in a clancorps powerplay. A risk, as Doyoung had reiterated time and time again.

But he hadn't expected you. Regrettably, neither had his enforcer.

The perfume in the air is returning with the car stopped and he coughs weakly at it, the sandalwood overwhelming his senses. 

"Spray her down and change her clothes," he instructs Taeil. "And give her something to wake her up. She needs to be walking when we bring her in."

The doctor gives him a withering look, holding up his bag. "You want to do the honors? She's already taken more drugs in the past hour than our entire pack takes in a year."

"Just keep her alive. And conscious," Taeyong adds, extricating himself from your flopping tail. "There's green rooms on the first floor you can post up in. Jungwoo will lead, I'll send you the signal once it's time."

Moon doesn't answer, pulling out the port carefully from your arm, stopping the bleeding. Taeyong's ears flick unconsciously as he scents a particular strain of feline, now emitting from you with the recombinant effect of heat. 

Once out of the car he breathes deeply, for the first time grateful for the awful miasma of uncollected waste and burning plastic that permeates the metropolis's exposed floor. 

"What?" he asks, seeing Jungwoo's eye turned to him in profile. The younger man stretches out from his long stint in the passenger seat, his beatific face lit by the glow of the night carnival. 

"I didn't say a word," Jungwoo laughs, playing with a telescopic, dark cylinder before shoving it into his suit jacket.

"You were thinking it," Taeyong sighs. "Stick with Taeil. I trust you still have back access here?" 

"Yes, captain," he says, smiling. "You sure you don't need protection?"

"I need you to run interference," Taeyong says sharply. "We don't need an enforcer."

Doyoung finally exits the vehicle, still wearing the pinched expression Taeyong knows means he's holding back criticism. His dark eyes rove between the two men before returning back to the holographic readout of his tablet, so many rectangles on display that the text is barely legible.

"Too much security would be considered a sign of disrespect and weakness," Doyoung says, wrinkling his nose with obvious distaste for the smells coming from nearby dumpsters. "You get her cleaned up, we'll take care of the mess upstairs."

"Yes, cousin," Jungwoo says with a small bow, needling the elder on the point of shared relations. Taeyong watches the Canid approach the tense Lottery security and a bank of laser turrets with a self-assurance he can only dream of.

"Reconsidering the plan?" Doyoung asks, looking over his yellow-tinged glasses with their faint lines of readout from his watch dogs.

"No," Taeyong says firmly. He smooths his shirt and jacket before running a hand over his erratic hair, finding his ears flattened. "We'll perform the handoff. But only if and when I call it."

"Yes, captain." Doyoung sighs. Taeyong gets a faceful of menthol and green fields in his wake as his strategist immediately starts walking towards the heavily guarded entrance, chin raised and shoulders back. 

He knows this will be a long night. Best to get it over as soon as possible, for your sake. 

[two hours later]

The doors of the vacuum capsule release with a hiss–revealing a much-anticipated party of people rather than the ever-cycling sea of Beta waitstaff that had come in to change out ancient teapots and rekindle charcoal.

There's a perceptible air of surprise from the entourage, finding Doyoung and Taeyong alone. Doyoung trails through news feeds with a gentle movement of his fingertips.

"Our apologies, your highness." The family spokesman speaks but Taeyong's eyes remain fixed on the eldest Kim prince, a Duke in his own right. He lets the man bow until he feels the depth is suitable enough to offer a nod in return. 

"We expect that the delay was necessary?" he drawls, contemplating his cold clay cup of tea and the untouched spread. 

"We regret to have kept you–"

"Please spare me excuses," Taeyong says. "I assume you've already checked the report we sent you." 

The executive nods, swallowing, while the Duke bores holes into his forehead with his stare. 

"We are grateful to you for returning our daughter to us." Duke Kim nods once he's seated, testing one of the many untouched dishes on the table with his pinky. 

"You can keep your guard and attendant but I want this room cleared," Taeyong says. "Your second wife can stay, too."

He watches the older woman bristle at being caught out even as she was headed for the door with the rest, pulled back to seat herself on the edge of the long booths leading to a magnificent view of the stadium below. She smooths her evening gown over her lap, eyes immediately focused on the screen over Taeyong's head.

"You'll see we prepared the contract agreement for this closure as well as some additional details. In light of changes we had to make some additions we think you will agree with, easily," Doyoung says, not looking up. 

"The first amendment is a change in target. Attached to the register is our full documentation of your daughter's activities for the last three weeks, including her private social accounts and offline engagements."

The elder Kim seems to wither, colored a sickly yellow-pink from the exterior lighting. His spouse sits straighter, looking Taeyong in the eye. 

"We did not say she was our–"

"A convenient loophole, yes, Duchess Kim. Or should I call you Aunt?" Taeyong asks, dripping sarcasm. She doesn't bother to scold him, clearly outranked.

"We recognize the possibility that our organization was confused on which asset was involved and the need for discretion, but the Princess Consort's involvement makes this a state issue, not a clan one." 

Doyoung brushes through screens to settle on a few images, letting the room marinate in the data.

"We will assume you operated under Syndicate discretion in hiring us to retrieve the Princess. We generally wouldn't care which one. Our real concern is why you involved us when your daughter was the one to orchestrate her escape in the first place." 

The silence in the room is punctuated by Doyoung pouring fresh tea from the nearest iron kettle, the tenth brought into the room by Taeyong's reckoning. He hands him a cup with the barest brush of fingers and a nod.

Taeyong drinks, finally, grimacing at the flavor–obviously some experimental hybrid cooked up for the mass market at an inflated price.

"Yes, we were asked to return the Princess Consort, quietly," the Duke admits. "We'll double your commission. For discretion. Consider it an apology for our adopted daughter's indiscretion." 

Taeyong lowers his cup, uncrossing his legs. 

"What is the plan for the Princess Consort when she's returned?" Taeyong asks, keeping his voice steady. 

The Duke sputters, his wife sitting up straighter. "I don't believe that's your concern–"

"Unfortunately, it is, now." Taeyong slouches back, projecting disinterest. "What's the current ranking for Garam's succession?"

"Well, let's check, shall we." Doyoung pushes a readout to the main screens. "Fifth. Bordering on seventh."

"Seems that even the backalley averages have shifted without this news being leaked to scream sheets. Can't imagine the stock futures for our cousin will move less quickly," Taeyong says, his lips curling. 

"I have a small investment in Garam per the family share agreement," Doyoung says, sagely. "Although she lacks finesse she appears to have the motivation to succeed for Imperatrix once she's chosen for the harem. Perhaps she wished to be assured in her status. Nothing new in the palace. But it would be a shame if this incident came to light." 

"Triple," the Duke blurts out, earning a look and a head toss from his spouse. "She's just a child. It was a game to her."

"I'll ask you again," Taeyong says. "And I only want the truth, without pretense. What will you do with the Princess Consort once she's returned?" 

The matriarch is the one to answer, standing up. 

"My sister raised that child to be feral. Uncontrollable. She's a liability." She ignores her husband's weak response, emboldened by Taeyong's glare.

"We offered her mercy and you dump her back at our door. In heat, no less. Will you explain that to a Syndicate tribunal?" 

A few moments of silence is all it takes for the mistake to settle in, regret instantly apparent on the woman's contorted face, so modded the muscles no longer respond in a human way. Duke Kim crumbles, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. 

"In heat?" Doyoung looks up from his tablet, pretending to finally pay attention. "This is new information."

"Indeed," Taeyong says, steepling his hands. "Are you privy to something we are not?"

"The stench on her, she has the marks–"

"Our physician did note significant scar tissue, possibly a match to a failed bond mark made many years ago. But I fail to see how we could be accused of that. And her current condition is stable."

"We have biological scans—" This time the Duke grabs his wife's wrist, dragging her to sit down.

"You did this," the woman snarls. "You could have let those thieves have her. You want to know the truth? She's ruined. She'll be culled or sold to a third-rate pack. Or off herself like her mother. What's it to you, Your Highness?"

The last words are spoken as a threat. Taeyong lifts his head, calm despite the storm inside him.

"Bring her up, please," he says, waving his hand. "We can do a physical examination with witnesses. And then we'll discuss the handover."

He nods to the Imperial attache, well aware of his folded posture and the spike of anxiety coming off him in waves. The old eunuch fingers his short-trimmed beard, thinking as his spectacles flash with messages, his other hand writhing over the tabletop to respond. 

"The Syndicate has already logged a majority vote to your transmitted request," he announces. "You have approval for the examination, and the negotiation proceedings to take place between the Kim and Lee clans, with eldest patriarchs present and accounted for. Choi, Park, and Jeong have called for an emergency meeting for oversight and in-person approval."

"Any in-person meetings will need to be scheduled with advance notice for full clan representation." Doyoung responds, a little late. "She's on her way up."

The hiss of the door halts everything, but it's not your entourage. The waiter takes one look at the room and the tension and bows, stumbling out backwards.

"What do you want?" The Duchess asks in defeat. "Money? Backing?"

Taeyong turns slightly to his partner, meeting his questioning look. Doyoung is usually steps ahead, but not in this. He'd transmitted the message to the Syndicate directly for a reason.

"I propose something mutually beneficial," Taeyong says, spilling discount lapsang souchong on the ancient wood table as he sets his cup down. He waits a beat, specifically making eye contact with the Duke and ignoring his wife.

"You sell her to me."

You sit like you've been taught for court, held head high and back straight, but with the slightest sway of relaxed confidence. Your eyes don't leave the scene in the caged arena directly below the conference room, two heavily-modded designated fighters facing off in a blur of flesh and chrome.

The negotiation has been going on an hour since your arrival, after you'd been escorted to a private room to be poked and prodded by two staff physicians still in their company uniforms. The Imperial attache, Soong, records the examination with a drawling narration that makes shivers run over your exposed skin. 

You realize just how gentle Taeil has been with you by the way you are groped and handled, your borrowed white gown discarded to expose your bare flesh, instruments inserted in every orifice with little warning.

Once assured that your temperature is within range and your hormones are stable they leave, letting you adjust your clothing behind a tall lacquer screen that seems an afterthought after the assault. 

You're used to such disrespect. Your body had never truly belonged to you, after all.

You emerge once your heartbeat’s stabilized, calming yourself with the aid of a relaxant that’s done nothing to ease the pain of the ice bath you'd been subjected to in a grimy locker room. The medicinal balms and powders you'd doused in to obscure your scent are just as much an indignity, reduced to smelling like a pit fighter.

"She's clear, Your Highness." The eunuch coughs. "Unmarked as well, so still eligible for contract. The scar tissue is almost a decade old as evidenced by multiple layers of resurfaced tissue."

"As I said, we would not have brought a heat-gone omega to this spectacle," Doyoung says. "Perhaps we will take it to mean that Princess Lee–apologies–Duchess Kim was concerned for the welfare of her niece outside of a controlled environment."

"Thank you for your concern, Aunt," you finally speak, half-bowing in the older woman's direction. She'd embraced you when you entered but you could feel the steel in her frame, see the twitch of her lip as she forced her smile.

Before you might have felt a sense of betrayal. But you were prepared, somewhat, by the secret feed from the room played live over Jungwoo's field display. You'd heard her insults finally after years of cold politeness, unable to spare you even a kind word in the wake of her older sister's death.

Her only omega daughter, Garam, had been closer, feeding you tidbits of gossip and sticking up for you to the other court ladies at their endless functions. The fact that she'd sent you out with placebo suppressants was cruel, but not unexpected. You'd at least had your own stash to rely on. 

They must have thought you'd give yourself away quickly, that they could ruin your reputation and Halatus with a single blow.

You hadn’t found out what happened to the rogue pack, yet, but looking at Taeyong's elegant profile you can't imagine he's treated them with cruelty. Even before meeting him in the flesh his reputation had preceded him in his preference for logic over violence.

It's the others in his company you were worried about.

"There's no way we'll be able to do this openly as a deal with the Syndicate. You'll need to convince them that it's in their best interest," Doyoung says.

"And how exactly is that?" The Imperial attache asks. "She was scheduled to be married into Tekhne with her cousin and three other high potentials. We've spent years brokering this deal."

He keeps looking at you with sharp eyes, as if unconvinced of your state. You let your ears and tail curl back, feigning piety. 

"In exchange for our discretion on this whole matter, which is necessary to assure Garam's promotion, we'll join the bloc supporting Tekhne for ascension." Taeyong says. "The Kim family will be able to include an exclusive contract for Nyctos security as a part of her dowry."

Doyoung looks at him, whites showing around his dark eyes. You know he's a prey Alpha by how sweet his scent is–lilac and lavender with a hint of cream. It's a strange contrast to the anger bubbling right below the surface of his elegant face, carefully smoothed down.

"Wouldn't that be against your clan's vow of non-interference?" Soong barks a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. 

"We can't–" Doyoung begins.

"I'm not putting anyone's reputation on the line for this but my own, this is purely business." Taeyong lays his ringed hand on the table beside the digital readout. "We've included a clause to default the contract to Syndicate control should the Kims renege on any of our terms."

You know all too well what that means, squirming in your seat. 

"The rest of your clan will take this as an act of betrayal," Doyoung says quietly. 

"They have no bearing on my decisions," Taeyong says. "Every Lee in Nyctos has divorced themselves from court politics with their expulsion from the Dome. And in accordance with the 2115 Peace Treaty no male heirs of our clan will be eligible for succession."

"Then what is the point of breeding her?" The Duke asks, confused. 

"As soon as she entered the register we were identified as a potential pairbond and a vector for omega offspring," Taeyong says. "Projections at 89.9%."

You glance over, a little surprised.  

"Now, do you agree to the match?" he asks for what feels like the final time. 

"There's just a small matter of the investment options . . .”

You tune out the endless back-and-forth at the table, feeling numbness as they discuss your body and your life in the language of a financial transaction. The genetic probability of future heirs, tenth generation royal breeding (with the exception of your father, of course), phenotype expression–all just noise you've only ever heard indirectly. 

You may as well be a prized broodmare sold at auction.

At least the terms don't include a future trapped in the palace with its schemes and clancorps oversight. No, you'd just hope you weren't eaten alive by a feral Alpha.

"Are you alright?" Jungwoo slides beside you, careful to not touch your bare arm but coming dangerously close when he looks over your shoulder at the fight below. It's over already, the aftermath reduced to an automated cleaner bot trailing blood as limbs are carted away.

You nod, not wanting to speak for fear of your voice trembling. 

"Do you want to get some air?" 

You shake your head. 

Taeil intervenes by stepping up to you both, checking your pupils surreptitiously. 

"We're going to have to let them return you to the Dome until the contract can be finalized. Are you going to be alright?" he asks.

You nod absently, looking up into the doctor's cool gaze. In better light you can see the faded tracks of scars across his forehead and cheek, eyebrow nicked permanently. Cat claw, and a large one. 

Recognition makes your head spin. Of course, he was there. Along with another whose name you couldn't remember–you knew their scents better than some of your closer relations. 

You bristle internally, anger flaring in your breast. The architects of your current situation are now complicating it again. 

At least, you think, Taeyong had taken responsibility. The rest of his pack would have to, in time. 

"Would you be able to escort me?" You request, dipping your chin. "I can hire you directly."

"That won't be necessary," Doyoung says, concentrating half on you and half on the discussion at the table. 

"If the terms are accepted by the Syndicate," he pauses to make it clear they will be, "we will set a date to come retrieve the Princess Consort. There will have to be a ceremony, of course. As fitting the last of the immediate Lee family Imperial heirs."

You look past him at your savior himself, Taeyong's large eyes meeting yours with a twinge of sadness. You smile at him assuringly, managing politeness even though you feel drained of every emotion possible.

For a pairbond match, you could do worse. There's a bubbly kind of anxiety in your stomach at the idea of being chained to anyone. No attractiveness or familiarity or convenience can divorce you from the changes made to the very marrow of your bones when you'd been marked before.

Taeyong knows this, surely. You must just be a chess piece in a gambit, the weakest of pawns disguised as a Queen. 

Perhaps if you do your part they'll be able to let you go once you've been liberated. But there isn't a guarantee. 

"Since we're to be wed, can I make one request of my husband-to-be?" You ask, carefully. 

Taeyong nods, swallowing visibly as you lean towards him. 

"In private, please, Your Highness," you say demurely. You stand up and beckon him out of the room, thankful he waves off the others.

"Anything you say here is either being broadcast or recorded," he warns you once you're alone in the dim hallway, out of range of an unconcerned guard.

"I know." You indicate you wish to speak in his ear, forcing him to lean down to allow the soft red fur with its black tip to brush against your human nose. The sweet, herbal tones of his natural scent pull you closer, body brushing against his jacket.

"Thank you," you whisper– 

–along with "I'm sorry"

–right before you sink your teeth into the warm skin, savage enough to fill your mouth with blood and fur. 

"What exactly were you thinking?" Doyoung repeats for the thousandth time, voice shrill. 

You lean against the autocar's open window, your face in the air, scenting a million flavors of human and designated but mostly yourself. 

The perfume roiling off your body permeates the car, along with the iron tang of Taeyong's blood as he sways in the seat across from you, watching your innocent face like he intends to bury a dagger in it.

Occasionally you see a head turn on the street or hear a catcall but Doyoung is driving hazardously through the lower street level, swerving to avoid pedestrians and hoverbikes.

"I can't go back there." You state in a neutral tone, shaking your head. "They'll kill me before they let me leave." 

Taeyong glares at you, lips in a pout as he holds a towel full of ice to his head. A whiskey bottle from the vehicle's stash dangles between his knees, already half-empty. 

"We had a plan," he says. "Contingencies. You just leveled them all." 

"The mark was to seal the agreement. I couldn't trust you to keep your word," you explain meekly, still tasting copper and spice on your tongue. It's good, a little satiation for the hunger that continues to ramp inside you as the medication wears off.

Taeil had said you had a few hours until your next dose, but within the brief chaos of getting you out of the Lottery your condition had reverted to what you’d suffered before being hit with a freezing shower, an ice bath that turned your lips blue, drowned in neutralizers and injected with three different brands of inhibitors. 

"I have a much more potent treatment for you back at headquarters," Taeil says, hand on your forehead. He turns to Taeyong, repeating the gesture. "You'll need one too."

"How is that possible?" Jungwoo asks, surprise flickering over his long features.

"Not impossible." Taeyong says through gritted teeth. You thought he'd been flushed from the alcohol but clearly something is happening to his body as well. 

A rut? You feel a distant horror at having triggered his during your first heat. You'd only meant to pretend to mark him, but maybe the proximity of your Alpha had caused some unintended effect. 

"I'm sorry," you say, reaching forward. 

Taeyong looks at your hand like it's a live snake, until he realizes you're beckoning for the bottle.

He sighs after a second, offering it to you. You sniff at it, bracing yourself. 

"We'll get through it. We can delay it for a few days, probably. Long enough to establish some boundaries and rethink our approach." Taeyong groans, legs spreading. He pulls his tie loose, and immediately you scent cedarwood and blackberries. 

Your mouth waters slightly. 

"She looks like she's going to eat you. I thought she was bound to Johnny?" Jungwoo says, amused as he watches you across the car, tapping his nightstick against his knee in anticipation of you threatening his boss again.

There's an awkward silence, and you drink from the bottle directly, choking when the hot liquid coats your tongue and throat. 

Taeil thumps your back beside you, taking his own drag before passing the bottle to Jungwoo. 

"Figured it out, eh?" Taeil grunts at the younger man. 

Jungwoo cocks his head, teeth barely visible behind his grim smile. "Well. She does smell like him." 

Taeyong groans, leaning against the window. 

"Maybe you should tell them before we get back and have to break it to the kids." The doctor directs the words at you, surprisingly.

"Tell them what?" Doyoung parrots, glancing up in the rearview mirror as he waits in line for a green light to the upper level, well above the tidemark now.

"It's a long story." Taeil caps the bottle. "Back when we were a unit in the NSMR together. Yuta and Johnny were on our team. Transfers from an overseas base doing post-war recovery to pad out their service."

"It was a standard rescue operation. Or so we thought," Taeyong laughs wryly. He looks up at you, licking his lips. "Do you remember?" 

"Some," you say. "I was thirteen."

You wring your hands in your lap, thighs pulled tight together under the flimsy, blood-stained dress. You feel ridiculous. "You don't forget a bondmark."

Jungwoo's look of amusement fades immediately. "Why would he mark you?"

"It was an accident," you say. You'd never said it aloud, or even written it out, but your tone is rehearsed and cold. "He was in jimseung when he saved me. I was trapped underwater, drowning. He didn’t mean to hurt me."

"He frenzied." Taeil sighs. "Rare but not unprecedented. What doesn't usually happen is the victim of an accidental mark accepting the bond."

Doyoung responds first, smashing the dashboard with a string of expletives you hadn’t heard before. You cringe back, a familiar lump growing in your throat.

"I apologize for the burden I have placed on you," you say automatically. 

Taeyong shakes his head, wincing when he feels his injury. "It was no one's fault. Truthfully we all hoped it would go away on its own."

"Syndicate science is advanced enough, they should have been able to rewrite it," Taeil says. You can tell he's questioning it himself, watching your face for a reaction. 

"They tried," you say, automatically holding yourself. "Multiple bone marrow transplants. Genetic therapy. And then they kept me locked away so no one would find out. The doctors said once I had another Alpha's mark I'd be fine."

Taeil scoffs at that. 

"So you rejected the treatment?" Jungwoo asks, warm gaze alight with something sinister. "Did you arrange this little reunion yourself, too?"

"Of course not," you say, startled. "I never wanted to see him again. I hate him."

"Didn't look like hate from what I saw," he says, eyebrows raising.

"I'm not in control–" Your anger bristles more quickly when you see he's mocking you. You snap at him with your teeth, pitching forward.

"Hey, stay put–"

"Stop it," Taeyong growls, ears aggressive. Both of you stop yelling at each other for a moment before you round on the leader, hackles fully raised.

"Don't you dare command me before . . . " You begin, voice trailing off as realization jolts through you. 

His scent, the way he crouches into his seat rather than confront you back with your display of aggression, tail curling in. Disobedience was not tolerated in a pack by a prime Alpha, certainly not at the edge of a rut.

"Oh," you breathe. 

Jungwoo breaks into laughter at that, bending over as Taeyong's face flushes scarlet. The Vulpine collapses back in the seat, looking miserable beneath his poultice.

"Well. She'd find out soon enough," Taeil assures him.

"You're a . . . You can't be . . ."

"Omega," Doyoung finishes from the front. The word hangs between you, car suddenly silent.

You'd been so distracted you hadn’t realized you'd entered a dark service elevator, lifted up dozens of stories. The silence is overwhelming as the four men avoid speaking, Jungwoo still watching you with amused distrust.

When the doors open you find yourself in a large hangar, so high that only the tops of lesser megapolis towers can be seen in the night sky. The familiar bulk of the AV sits on a narrow landing strip outside.

Taeil checks that the massive room is empty before his hand finds the latch.

"You're both omegas going into heat at the same time, with the same competing genealogy and bonded Alpha," he says, opening the door. Immediately you're hit with a familiar scent–something that your vixen knows only as home. 

"Try not to kill each other."

[previous] [next]

[nesiacha]

After being critical about the episode "Secrets d’histoire les femmes de la révolution" I am forced to admit that the show remains just as mediocre concerning the episode on "Soliman le magnifique."

With the guests, I learned astonishing new things: Mahidevran would have actually been the mother of three of Suleiman's children and his favorite before the arrival of Hurrem. It's funny, I thought that due to the fratricide law, the rule was that a concubine of the sultan could only have one son; and that Suleiman broke the rule by having more than one son with Hurrem.

Have our guests discovered evidence that this rule had already been broken before under the fratricide law? Or how did they demonstrate that Mahidevran had been the favorite for a time while having the lowest salary among the concubines? The continuation to clarify these surprisingly grotesque points more precisely will be in the next episode (or not), like this alleged physical fight between Hurrem and Mahidevran that never actually happened. Or Mahidevran's alleged repeated crying fits when we have no proof of that (even though justified given the stressful positions of the concubines, generally these women were chosen for their intelligence and ability to keep their composure among other things).

Let's move on to the more serious points: I was expecting the classic but false explanation that Hurrem influenced Suleiman to eliminate Ibrahim. In real life, even if Hurrem and Ibrahim dislike each other, Ibrahim was not executed for that. Moreover, it's strange, the guests of this emission say that Suleiman is not manipulable (which is totally true) and then contradict themselves. We know that Hurrem was his adviser, but she wasn't the sultan.

The most shocking (or funniest to adopt depending on your point of view): a guest explains that some rumors say that Hurrem was Ibrahim's mistress before she was introduced to Suleiman and that she tried to eliminate Ibrahim so that this part of the episode would be forgotten. The guest may claim that it's subject to caution, but it's mostly nonsense (euphemism)

I understand better now why some people dismiss Hurrem and Ibrahim if they've seen this mediocre show.

Finally, Mustafa's execution, I don't need to tell you anything, I imagine you would have guessed on your own which way the explanations of his execution go. I admit to having had false hope when they were finally explaining the laws of fratricide (finally a truth explained that it's not the mothers' fault if the Sultan's sons are enemies) and when a guest was explaining how he wondered how Suleiman could be manipulated to this extent (I thought the guest was going to break the grotesque stereotype that Hurrem had Mustafa assassinated and it's entirely her fault, yes, I had a completely stupid false hope). But in the end, no, false hope not more than that especially when the show says that Suleiman has a strong morality (oh really, the guy mistreats the mother of his son Mustafa and condemns her to poverty even though even his father Selim Yavuz, a man of terrible temperament, left BulBul Hatun, the mother of his half-brother enemy Sehzade Ahmed, alone, which demonstrates unnecessary cruelty on Suleiman's part; Suleiman refuses to give the necessary support to his son Mustafa to defend the province out of fear of his popularity and therefore is ready to sacrifice a part of his people because of it, we don't have the same conception of morality).

Finally, Sehzade Mehmed, son of Sehzade Mustafa, is renamed Sehzade Murad when the show talks about him ( new inaccury) and his assassination. It feels like Suleiman acted on a whim and the show doesn't explain that the rule in Ottoman Empire is that when a sehzade is executed by his father the Sultan, all his sons perish with him. Or maybe our guests were completely unaware of this, which wouldn't surprise me.

Finally, Bayezid's fate is barely mentioned and as usual, the black legend of Selim II is once again briefly mentioned by saying that he was a mediocre leader compared to his father (which is false, I think Selim II was more competent than his father and I say this while also liking historical Sehzade Mustafa). So, in summary, in this show, Hurrem is still in her black legend, even though she did charity and tried to alleviate the fate of the slaves (I'm not saying she's a saint, but nobody was if we had to take her position she was mostly the scapegoat of a system change just like Anne Boleyn was in England to avoid blaming the real leaders), but a man like Tallien who pillages, massacres, betrays for better interests and fills his pockets, a very bloody weathervane is seen as heroic (some will argue that this comparison is anachronistic given that Tallien started in the French revolution but that's the conclusion I draw from these shows). Wow, what magnificent morality.

Other people seeking much more accurate references have gone to read the comic book "Ils ont fait fait l’histoire Soliman le magnifique." I've read it and I'm critical (although the mistakes are less serious). Already in this collection, there are good volumes like Elizabeth I's, but others in which I disagree. There is also a big problem: the comic starts with Mustafa's assassination, which means that many important elements are left out (that's the problem some people have the right to a trilogy in this comic like Napoleon to my despair, while others only have one volume which is insufficient to understand how the character got there). It is made clear that it's Suleiman who is behind the execution even if Hurrem approves and is even relieved by Mustafa's death (natural given the law of fratricide), it's not she who had the upper hand in the execution. However, historical inconsistencies arise: first the story takes up the false legend of Cihangir who dies of grief for Mustafa when in reality they were not close at all ( maybe they didn't meet each other). Selim II is seen as incompetent and Sehzade Bayezid as more competent (still false). We see a somewhat ruthless Hurrem but not enough of her gentle side (and the comic implies that Mahi, although absent-minded, is arrogant, the black legend about these women is tenacious and frustrating). Mustafa only makes two pages of appearances, Mihrimah is absent, Cihangir doesn't appear, only Bayezid makes the most appearances.

A detail that the comic seems to forget: the stranglers are deaf-mutes, so they couldn't argue about the execution of the youngest son of Bayezid (I know it's to accentuate the horror but we must try to remain consistent in history plus it was already horrific to know that a child was going to be executed because of his father's rebellion).

In short, I understand better now why I encounter some people convinced they hold the truth if they've only seen this show or rely solely on this comic.

[rexxdjarin]

Ok so when it comes to writing certain SW men please remember a) that most of these men are multi-faceted and generally good (even if it’s deep down) and b) the following:

Fives is fun and flirty but he’s also an incredibly loyal heroic and noble hero and leader. He’s not a man child who uses woman. Please stop writing him this way. He is motivating, passionate and compassionate. This is a man who fought tooth and nail to find the truth to try to protect an entire galaxys worth of people from a horrible fate. He is a massive hero with a very pure and well-intentioned soul. As are most [if not all tbh] the clones

Boba is incredibly complex and different to write depending on the era he’s in. He is secretly sensitive and most of all very lonely and that does influence his behavior. In good ways and bad. He does much of what he does out of trauma and loss and fear of abandonment. He put aside morals during OT in order to survive. It doesn’t excuse his behavior but you must understand: it’s not that he doesn’t care about things… he can’t afford to. He’s scared of all that can happen when he does. It’s coping mechanism. He makes sooo much progress with unlearning this bad behavior and I think we see that by him righting wrongs and trying to help people in TBOBF. I could write a novel on this LOL..

Wolffe is not abusive. He may be a bit gruff at times but he is not manipulative or mean or a man whore. I have a headcanon that even if he does hook up with a lot of people he’s NEVER cruel or mean about it. He cares just like any other clone. He’s a commander for gods sake. Don’t forget that in pursuit of trying to give him a distinct personality. AND one can be kinky and into rough sex without being abusive and it’s VERY important that distinction is made otherwise dangerous behavior is going to get normalized and in that community that is taken extremely seriously.

Din Djarin is a wild card. I will give you that. But again writing him as anything but a kind, morally good man is shitty. Din breaks rules to do the right thing NOT simply to thrive or exist or seem bad ass. He doesn’t care about that hahahah he cares deeply about protecting his own, adhering to his own sense of self and caring for grogu. Kinks are kinks and everything but there’s a lot of uncomfortable racially charged shit out there that needs to be stopped.

Cassian…for the love of god stop making him an UWU soft king with no agency or grit who fucking serves you and takes care of your every fucking whim like he’s a servant. I have seen WAY too many fics/comments etc from mainly white people writing him this way and I’ve heard from MULTIPLE latine people how extremely uncomfortable and not ok this framing of him is as a proudly Mexican actor. Please watch your tone and watch the way you view this character especially.

[biblioflyer]

What is Picard's narrative style?

Just sort of thinking aloud here, but I'm finding myself rather baffled by a particular sort of response to Jack Crusher that seems to be a reaction to a saccharine, uncritical adoration of him that I'm somehow completely unaware of. Maybe there's a huge area of the web that is fawning over Jack that I'm just not seeing because of the whims of the algorithm.

I have a feeling this reaction might be dependent on what framework people are looking at the show through and whether its the classic Trek framing of pulp drama and "protagonist centric morality" where Jack is somehow supposed to make us feel seen and be presumed to be correct in all things.

Which I think flies in the face of the sort of "prestige drama" framing of the streaming era where the protagonists are limited and fallible and while they may be motivated by high minded principles, adhering to those principles is not always easy: see also Crusher and Picard talking themselves into executing Vadic or Seven executing the gangster in season one, and the right course of action is not always obvious. I strongly believe that this is the more appropriate way to analyze Seasons One and Two of Picard, and I suspect Discovery becomes a richer series if one adopts this posture.

Speaking of which, this is all very reminiscent of criticism of Burnham oddly enough, which makes it extra odd and ironic because it also seems to be rooted in lingering anger over how the fandom has responded to Burnham and a perceived hypocrisy in the reception of Jack. Don't get me wrong, I got to like the guy even though I dislike both the secret lovechild trope and the messiah antichrist trope, but if I had thought I was supposed to assume he's objectively correct about everything and uber special, that would not have been the case.

If the assumption is that characters like Burnham and Jack are pulp action heroes then yes, the entire plot falls apart like a house of cards because they repeatedly do very poorly thought out things that turn out through happenstance to have been the right move after all for reasons no one could reasonably predict ahead of time. Additionally the plot winds up centering them as a key element in saving or condemning the Federation, the galaxy etc.

However! Greek tragedies involving Fate with a capital F also deal in self fulfilling prophecies and narratives that are going to fulfill themselves no matter how the characters try to resist. Some of the darkest stories humanity has ever told involved predestination paradoxes.

Which to me means that if we are to assume that modern Star Trek is more like The Expanse, Babylon 5, or even Deep Space Nine; absolutely no one should be assuming Jack is supposed to be an audience surrogate. He's just another mortal flailing his way through the story who didn't ask to be a chess piece in a Borg Xanatos gambit and, if anything, keeps trying to get people to stop dying in his stead.

People who are making these choices are very explicitly doing it not because Jack is uniquely deserving, but because he's not. The argument advanced time and again is that of solidarity. That actually the Vulcans are wrong and throwing people to the wolves because it would be more efficient from a consequentialist view is an error.

Now you don't have to buy that and I don't think Picard S3 actually did a great job of making this argument (major credit to Todd Stashwick for making what could easily have been yet another in a long line of Starfleet antagonists who have taken consequentialism too far and made him seem like the smartest guy in the room a lot of the time.)

But! If you think for instance that Turkey ought to be kicked out of NATO for its treatment of the Kurds with full recognition of the potential of earthquakes in the geopolitics of Southeastern Europe and the Middle East, or that the US is right to risk nuclear war to help Ukraine*: then there is an argument for sending a message to bad guys that there are people who will put skin in the game because its the right thing to do even if the risks are extreme. You could even make consequentialist arguments for following one's conscience that are rooted in solidarity and inspiring better behavior from others who may be inclined towards timidity.

*You are free to disagree with either of these propositions if that disagreement is rooted in reality and a legible ethical argument, I'm mainly using these as analogies rather than trying to sell the reader on them. The what, hows, whys, and other contingencies of geopolitics are fussy, the consequence vast, and I don't mean to flatten them.

Admittedly the debate over individualism vs consequentialism and Jack's narrative role is an argument that I think would have been strengthened if the series hadn't done an abrupt 180 on the recurring themes of the validity of people trying to solve problems on their own without having to be in Starfleet.

But there again, I get what was trying to be signaled by putting Jack, Raffi, and Seven on the bridge: Starfleet is turning the corner on excessive proceduralism. Which incidentally forgets that at several points in the narrative, the entire season might have been derailed if people had listened to Shaw, although I'm not unaware of the counter arguments about solidarity, humanity, and standing up to bullies....these just weren't arguments that were made well.

[eolewyn1010]

Dragging Frankenstein - Chapter 19

Which starts out gay, and keeps getting gayer. Half the time, I'm left wondering if Mary Shelley did this on purpose.

“Clerval desired the intercourse of the men of genius and talent” – XD Good on you, Henry, for setting higher standards than pretty. DAS GAY: 27

…okay, the way Victor is all about loving Henry and how wonderful Henry is gets them another one for their relationship. DAS GAY: 28

I’ll hold back from giving one for Henry being “anxious to gain experience and instruction”, but… yeah, have fun, sweetie. My brain is a little Pride Month-addled.

-.- Aaaand Henry promptly gets a sympathy point removed for wanting to progress India’s colonization. Dude.

“that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one who was entering on a new scene of life” o.O Okay, WHY is this reading like Henry has just come out and is exploring the local gay scene??

And with the “collecting materials” again, how does Victor hide them from his boyfriend, both in London and then during travelling? Imagine the conversation. “Uhm… Victor… you might wanna wash your underwear before packing it; the luggage is kind of smelly.”

“although I abhorred society” – wooooow, Victor is a real sunshine, isn’t he? I mean, I’m socially anxious, but that sounds more like the Creature in his hatred for humanity.

Once again, the passage of time confuses me. Shelley’s transitions, man. How tf do they need four months from London to Scotland? And why would they begin this journey in fucking February? And can Victor really afford to take this time? And give us a history lesson on the country, to boot. Like Bram Stoker, Shelley can’t resist the temptation to write a travel guide. Train schedules, anyone?

Every “soon” is “four months later”, Victor needed 6 fucking YEARS to go back home to visit his family. Honestly, I’m amazed that the shallow twit even still wants to marry Elizabeth and doesn’t consider her an old maid not worthy of his attention at this point. It’d be like him.

However, as my friend pointed out, he rarely ever thinks about actually being married to Elizabeth. It’s a very abstract concept to him, marrying her at all. How convenient that he doesn’t have to get used to it. Being married would require him to actually take the role he has rejected regarding the Creature. He’d have to take responsibility for Elizabeth and the household, for hypothetical children. He’d have to be dependable, emotionally, financially, in regards to the time he spends with them. It’s different with Henry. Henry is the one who’s always there to support him, and to be up for every whim of Victor’s. A marriage doesn’t work that way. Conclusion: Victor’s problem isn’t that the Creature is ugly. It’s just that Victor is a fucking deadbeat.

Ah, but it wouldn’t be complete without Victor moping. Feeling once more that Stephenie Meyer’s characters are heavily based on 19th century gothic horror novels, even though she completely fails at the horror part. All the same whiners. “Byronic hero” my ass; try “emo brat”.

“…at Servox and Chamonix. The latter name made me tremble when pronounced by Henry” – XDDD I know what Victor is on about, but the choice of words makes me think that, for a student of languages, Henry seems to really butcher that pronunciation.

“I could now almost fancy myself among the Swiss mountains.” – Yeah, why would you go anywhere else at all if not to feel exactly like at home?

When Victor talks about getting letters from home, he gives us this baffling line: “I hardly dared to read and ascertain my fate.” Oh, right. Whether Elizabeth and his father and brother are still alive is Victor’s fate. Had almost forgotten it. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 20

“you enjoy yourself, and let this be our rendezvous” – DAS GAY: 29

This journey is really an opportunity for the boys to have a gay old time, huh.

I’m giving this another double bc Henry gets so heartache-y at separating from Victor for a while, “I cannot feel at home in your absence” and all that. Henry, you’re too good for him. DAS GAY: 30

Victor travels to the Orkneys and sneers about how poor his surroundings and the people are -.- I held back on giving him a point for the smug attitude with which he just presumed some important scientist would be eager to share all his wisdom with him, the college drop-out brat, but I will so count his turning up his nose on miserable cows, “squalidness of the most miserable penury”, gaunt limbs, and meals that have the audacity to consist of oatmeal and vegetables. I SO PRIVILEGED: 9

“I ordered it to be repaired, bought some furniture, and took possession” – He’s insistent on pissing me off, the patronizing little shitstain. Why don’t you repair it yourself? I SO PRIVILEGED: 10

“As it was, I lived ungazed at and unmolested” o.O Is. Is Victor craving some gazes and molestation or something?

“employed in the most detestable occupation” …yeah, right, but when you did it the first time, serving no benefit but your own fame, then it was a noble undertaking of creating a new species and shit.

[lumi-procrastinate]

Interlaced Fate

Chapter 2/??? | Another Helory Story (Canon) | Helian's POV

I tried my best to learn romantic writing for this chapter but alas 'twas not my fate to be able to write romantic scenes on a whim, so I'm dragging my pal foxy @foxalone to co-write this one, enjoy! ^^ -Lumi

[Previous]

Mess. My mind was a complete and utter mess.

The strange encounter earlier filled my mind with doubt.

What I felt back there was indescribable. He was barely an acquaintance, and yet...

And yet...

My heart won't stop racing at the thought of him.

Taking a look at the place where the charming boy fell only made my thoughts more confusing.

For as long as I know, the possibility of making new friends would give me some sort of joy, but I don't think this is what I felt earlier.

'Maybe it's something... more?'

Realising what I just thought of embarrasses me. He was just a stranger, after all. Nothing more.

'Perhaps it's the shock. He fell on me and must have muddled me so much that I imagined things, yeah... That's what I must have felt'

The answer turning out to be as simple as that puts my mind at ease, the wind breezing gently around me helps too.

That is until a certain voice chimed in...

"Greetings again there, stranger."

My eyes widen as a warm feeling spreads across my chest, and my heart races yet again as I fidget around in my place.

"I'm here to apologize again, and you see... I seem to be a little lost, and I couldn't heal myself in my current state. Are you from around here, perhaps?" He said with the same tone from earlier with an idyllic smile.

The feeling from earlier crept back again; my body won't move, and I can't understand why I would feel so nervous.

"I... I.." I can't seem to mutter anything out.

The stranger tenderly looked at me, patiently waiting for my answer.

"Hey... yeah... I um... I-I..." I can't seem to talk clearly, much like a stuttering 5-year-old who's struggling to find the next word to say, "am I from... here?"

He giggled charmingly and hummed, "mm-hmm, that's what I asked."

It took me a few seconds before managing to say anything, "um... yeah, I'm from around here. You need help, right?"

My cheeks felt warmer as my fear from earlier seemingly dissipated, for some reason, talking to him felt... good.

'What's happening to me? Why am I feeling like this?'

"Indeed, I'm a little lost, and I think I need to heal myself. Could you perhaps help me out a little, stranger?" He added.

"I know someone who has healing powers... he could cure you I s-suppose..." I breathe in before encouraging myself to ask,"Hey... m-may I know what your... your name is?..."

"Oh my stars-" he giggled to himself, "-I'm so sorry for my impudence, I've completely forgotten to introduce myself, my name would be sans, but people usually call me memory, how about you?"

"I... you can call me Helian," My heart skipped a beat as he offered his hand to me.

"Well, nice to meet you then, Helian!" I managed to take his hand timidly.

The warm feeling imbued in my chest, yet again, it was indescribably similar to happiness.

"So.. shall we get going then?" He asked as he took away his hand.

"Huh? Oh! Of course!" I muttered as I started leading him in a somewhat clumsy way.

He giggled and followed me quietly throughout the journey.

After a while, we arrived in an area where I could usually find my acquaintance; he's known as Nishiki.

"Hey Nishiki..." I opened the conversation.

The skeleton was busy sketching the surrounding, he has fox-like ears and tails that twitched when he looked at us.

"Oh, hi again Helian, what's the occasion?" He responded nonchalantly.

"This is Memory, an acquaintance of mine -" I stepped aside to show Memory to him, "- he seems to be hurt, could you possibly cure him? Please..."

He looked at him quietly as he stood up and put his sketchbook down, "Hm... Depends. How much HP did you lose?"

Memory hesitated a little before manging to murmur something "0,5 ....out of 1."

Nishiki raises his eyebrow as he extends his arm. "Well... we need to link arms for the procedure, if you don't mind. "

"Oh, I don't mind at all," Memory responded instantly as he linked his arm with him.

My heart sunken for a s split second, but I tried my best to keep myself composed.

'This is required so he can feel all better... but why... Why do I feel so terrible looking at them.. together'

A translucent orange hologram manifested as Nishiki used his magic, interrupting my train of thoughts.

His HP was transferred to Memory instantly, and he fell to his knees because of it.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" Memory asked as he bent down, trying to help him out.

Nishiki just nodded as he took his offer and stood up.

"So... Is that all?" I managed to ask with my usual tone, trying my best not to appear cold.

"Indeed, the procedure is complete," he responded.

Memory smiles warmly and gives him a little bow. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

"Oh, don't worry, it's no big deal," he smiled at him as he replied.

Before my heart could calm down from looking at them, Memory spoke again.

"I am so sorry but you see... I have healing magic as well but I can't apply it to myself, it takes my energy so it's not that efficient and I was wondering, how did you do all that? That was really fascinating."

Nishiki looked at him in a tender way, "It's this family heritage... in my family, only females could do that kind of magic"

"Woah! That's really interesting," Memory exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly.

He laughed happily at the sight. "Oh fox!... I didn't think I could be interesting."

"Why I think you are, tell me more, please!" Memory gleamed with curiosity.

He smiled in flustration before beginning to talk. "Oh well..."

They gleefully converse with one another. Meanwhile, I... just stood there looking at them.

As time passes by, they seem to get along even more.

My mind blanked out all of the noises as my feelings clouded my thoughts.

For whatever reason, anger planted deep inside my chest.

'What does he have that makes him so much more interesting than me? I've known him first, so why does he talk more to him?'

To make matters worse, Nishiki seems to be upset about something, and the first thing that Memory did was hug him, trying to calm him down.

My chest got heavier instantly as my mind became a puddle of mess.

'Wh-what... why... is this making me angry? Why is it that I don't like him being nice to him... does that make me selfish? Why... why have I never been this angry before? Why.. does it hurt so much?'

The surrounding began to be blurry, I was in the verge of tears as I can't seem to withdraw a conclusion to my own feelings.

All I can do is withdraw myself from the scene, I felt way too many emotions that I don't like together.

Without saying a word or bidding a farewell of any kind, I've paced away.

I tried my best to think rationally for why those feelings appeared when I was around him and yet I could only come to one conclusion.

It was just me.

The one that having a problem was I alone.

There was never a problem present to begin with.

It was simply me being the problem.

'I was being selfish and rude even, that's why he doesn't want to even talk to me, that's why nobody likes me, I'm... just a foolish numbskull'

My mind spiralled into an abbyss of self loath as I kept running.

But then... the same charming voice chimed in.

"H-hey, wait!," he said as he stopped me, he held my hand in a firm manner as he made me turn around to face him.

"Helian... wasn't it? Thanks again, I owe you one. " Hearing his voice makes my vision fuzzy again.

'A-am I crying? In front of him from all people? What if he thinks I'm weak because of this... I- I can't possibly bear with that, I need to hold it back....'

But alas, my own body betrayed me.

My legs have grown weak and I sat down in an instant, tears streamed down my cheeks in an instant.

It felt so unfair, I never once cried in front of a stranger and yet...

I can't seem to hold my feelings back with him, I was about to break down yet again, but then...

"There there" he whispered to me as he hugs me.

My soul felt like it was put in a fluffy sheats of cotton as he pats my back and wipes away my tears.

"I don't know what upset you, but you can tell me if you want, I'm here for you" he looked directly into my eyes as he smiles comfortingly.

My mind became clear in an instant.

"No... Memory.. It's alright... I'm fine" I managed to mutter.

"Really?" He asked as he kept on patting me tenderly.

I tried my best to muster up a smile, "yes, you don't have to worry."

Instead of letting go of me, he gave me another hug.

"I'm glad then," he whispered in my 'ears'.

My heart races as reality itself became brighter for me.

I hugged him back as I savour the moment.

Oh how I wish we could be like this forever.

[End of chapter]

Helian!Sans, Nishiki!Skeleton, and Underblood belongs to @foxalone

[Next]

Alternative version: [Memory's POV]

[anamoon63]

Dale: Terry didn't 'abandon me to my fate', he offered me his support in getting us another apartment, and he'll help with anything we need, he just can't do anything against Riley, that's all.

Kelly: Hmm, no, that's not all, you're hiding something from me, Dale Cho.

Of course Dale is hiding something. He can't tell her what Terence advised him because, one: Kelly will go straight to kill Terry, and two, because if he tells her what advice his brother gave him, he'll have to tell her as well what Riley wanted, then Kelly would put up one hell of a fight in the middle of exams eve. And two: because, in a few minutes, he has to go to his last business presentation at the library, on which part of his grade for the semester depends. So no, he can't tell Kelly what happened on that phone call with Terry. At least not now.

Dale: Seriously, I'm not hiding anything from you. Or rather... Okay, the truth is that... (Dale stops abruptly).

Kelly: The truth is that what? Talk to me already, Dale.

Dale knows he's in trouble, whether he hides the truth from her or whether he tells her everything.

They both smoke again; she, to control her impatience; he, to buy time and figure out what to answer. Just then, there is the sound of doors opening and closing, and the voices of Riley and Sarah arguing again.

Sarah: So you did it just so we could stay in the dorm, huh?

Riley: Yes, because I already knew he would never accept my proposal, so we wouldn't have to leave.

Sarah: And you think I'm going to believe that bullshit?

Riley: Well, it's the truth.

Sarah: No, it's not. You were hoping for the exact opposite result. Your intention was very clear! You asked Dale to sleep with you in exchange for leaving the dorm, because you knew that was the only way he would give in to your whim!

Kelly: (Stops smoking) What??

Dale: …

[houserosaire]

Prompt #25: Futures

‘Do you have a future?’ Silvaineaux listened with half an ear to the back and forth of question and answer their enemy had decreed for the others. But his attention was not required for words that had nothing to do with him and so instead he found his thoughts circling on the question Urien had posed to him instead.

If another had asked, in another circumstance he might have answered that no one could answer such a question. Fate turned to its own whims and he was no seer to predict them. Perhaps he might as easily have said that he did as long as he was breathing. There had been a time even that answer would not have come as easily as it did. The future was a complicated thing to consider. Unpredictable, nebulous, a construct of hopes or fears depending on the mind in the moment one looked to it.

He had told Urien he did. And perhaps he might better have said that he did because he would fight for it. That he had a future that stretched as long as his sword held off death. But how long that might be he could not say. He might have liked to say that he had a future because he had hopes and plans for it, even if those plans were not always more concrete than to see Sui’s smile again, or to speak his own promise to him somewhere in sight of the sea. 

But hopes and plans and dreams did not mean one truly had a future. He had seen plenty of men dead in the snow who had hopes. Surely Seraphin had had plans that stretched beyond his ride out one chill afternoon. 

It was a foolish question. He decided, straightening at his post on the wall, and likely calculated to do just this, twisting his thoughts into tangles. None could see the future to say whether or not it existed. 

But he had now.

And perhaps he ought to have told Urien that he had a future long enough to end his.

 @gorgagne-viperidae for Urien @bookbornexiv for Sui

[kalpasio]

HELLO???

masterlist masterlist 2 request list

Requests: Kalpas

if you would be ok with me writing your ideas for Kalpas, I'm open to asks!

update: I'm still fine with taking asks! but!! at this point I have a couple and it will take me more than a month to get to any new ones so please just be aware it'll take me some time!

I will always take asks about your headcannons or my own, but any longer works are written on a whim. I do not control the writing, I merely write until my wrist falls off and hope that the words make a complete sentence.

Genuinely my interests in a character will change overnight, you would not believe the wip pile I have because my brain suddenly decides it hates the character it was obsessed with 2 hours ago

A lot of my works are just a bunch of small hcs or scenarios I have thought of or seen smashed together so if you send me hcs or I post some in response to an ask I will always try to link those to the work. I want to make sure people get credit for their ideas, even if they're on anon.

Feel free to call me Zaria or Zari (or Tamale if you're coming from ao3)

Or whatever really, so long as I can tell you're referring to me

she/her/they doesn't bother me either way

I'm a college student who enjoys writing in my free time (I know this is like code for "I'm a bad writer with 2 stories and then I drop off the grid" but I promise I genuinely write for stress relief, and I am very stressed at school so we'll be good!)

I mostly write fluff and angst x reader

As of now, I don't think I'll be writing nsfw mostly because my ace ass hasn't even been in a relationship and I want to become more comfortable with writing in general first.

That being said! I'm 100% here for short nsfw headcannons or asks so please minors DNI. If I do end up writing any smut it'll probably end up on ao3, though I will post a link here.

Speaking of asks

Asks/not-requests

If you just wanna post something, that's chill

If you want my thoughts on something, that's chill

If you wanna ask questions or talk about something I've written, that's chill

I'm not comfortable writing for or talking about minors, though there are a few characters I am ok with writing for if they're aged up (Damian Wayne or certain Persona characters off the top of my head)

Non-con is a hard no. Yandere is almost always a no. Dub-con is on thin fucking ice and usually depends on a whole lot of things.

Sometimes Tumblr eats asks!! If you think you sent something that was totally reasonable and I don't respond to it in like a couple weeks, try sending it again!

(at the end of the day, if you send something I'm not comfortable with, I'll let you know, or in extreme cases I just won't respond, so don't stress about it too much!)

Honestly I'm going to be writing either way, and I really just want to get my stories out on the odd chance someone has the same interest. Some of these stories are kinda niche or the reader has traits that I personally have or want for them. If someone enjoys them, great! If it's not your cup of tea, that's fine too! They'll be here until Tumblr gets sold off for the 57th time and loses so much money the shoestring holding it together falls apart.

Sorry for the super long post, List of games I've played below, it's even longer don't even look at it.

Fire Emblem:

Sacred Stones (ask me about Boston Grandma)

Awakening (If Camilla is dragon mommy, Cherche is dragon mom and I love her more)

Fates (Oh please don't start a fight)

Three Houses (oh please don't start a fight)

Like half of Radiant Dawn (Thank you Vimm's lair)

Heroes (You can always tell when Cuboon draws the art)

Overwatch (I have yet to play 2 and I'm not sure I want to)

Honkai Impact (HoS has modified my mind and now she and the flame chasers own me)

I am also fine with writing for APHO! I actually have a story in the works for the MC (man's got like 20 names)

Genshin Impact (Ohhh I could make a bonfire from this wip pile)

Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild (I have like four other loz games and just haven't played them. Thank you Vimm's lair)

Kid Icarus (I used to have the biggest crush on Dark Pit when I was younger hhhh)

Borderlands 3 (2 makes me so motion sick)

Persona 4 Golden (now with graphics!)

Persona 5 (Not Royal, I'll play it when it comes to pc)

Hollow Knight (I'm not sure how comfortable I am writing this, but I love the game to bits)

Tekken 7 (I have-no joke-17 hours on this game but I am more than willing to read the wiki for some of these characters)

Valkyria Chronicles 4 (I might have to replay it)

Transistor (bought it for the ost, stayed for the gameplay)

Bastion (bought it because of Transistor, stayed for the gameplay and ost)

I love supergiant Darren Korb, I own Hades but have not played it because I know I'll be obsessed for like a month

Devil May Cry 5 (I haven't played the previous games, do with that what you will)

Anime:

In advance, I watched these like almost a decade ago so I might be a bit rusty. Most of them I really care for though, and I'll take recommendations!

Ouran High School Host Club (I'm so sorry)

Soul Eater (I can't remember if I ever finished this...uhhhh)

Fruits Basket (the like 90's version, not the more recent one. Hatsuharu ruined my life tho)

Sailor Moon (Sailor Jupiter my beloved)

Fullmetal Alchemist (Fu Hua killed Meas Hughes)

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (I get these two mixed up, I should rewatch them both, right?)

One Piece (I don't think I got past episode 200, I will be so inaccurate)

RWBY (If you count this, I think I'm behind by a season)

I am so terribly sorry if you read through all of that. If I have something that's not listed, feel free to ask anyway! I really like making horrible guesses about characters and then actually seeing them in their game or show and finding out how inaccurate I was (half the time my guess is just "oough ladie")

[jacksgreysays]

60) things you said as the bottom dropped out; for your OCs or whatever you feel like

I’m gonna be honest anon, I think this prompt fill will actually be more of an outline/planning/ideation.

Because I’m gonna be even more honest, I did have to look up what “bottom dropped out” means. Like… I had a vague idea I knew what I meant but then I second guessed myself and looked it up to make sure because it’s not a phrase I use/hear often. But, for those who are also not sure, the bottom dropping means something ends/goes awry 1) suddenly and with the option of doing so 2) worse than it has ever been before. So not just abruptly hitting rock bottom but also maybe plunging straight through to the crust of the earth.

Which is hilarious.

I also appreciate you for requesting one of my OCs and/or whatever whim may take me which does make this… very open ended on who gets absolutely destroyed and what they say while being so but also means it’s so open ended that I have to ideate what I would write about.

I was also thinking that the particular phrasing evokes the sense of falling, which should be obvious, but… how do I put it… while the bottom of a boat disappearing would put its passengers in a bind the idea of them falling into water doesn’t seem as abrupt. Or, like, doesn’t evoke falling necessarily. Then I was thinking, a step to the side, what about an airship? But that involves a good chunk of world building which isn’t where I’m at for the moment.

And also, I shouldn’t take it so literally.

So, what do you say the moment of the worst thing suddenly happening to you? Let’s see…

If I go through my OCs, my usual go to is, of course, Tetsuki but weirdly enough nothing bad happens to her so suddenly and that she can’t mitigate/recover from. After that is Leanne, but in an equal and opposite problem, bad things are happening to her almost constantly, and also nothing is the absolute worst she’d be subjected to because the purgatory that is her existence is already the bad ending (in as much as a time traveler can have an ending)

And of course I have other OCs but…who has their entire world ripped out from under them all at once…

Ohhhhh, oh noooooo, I know who it is: it’s Curtis/Apex from Twelve Sessions.

It would be about the fight that effectively wiped out the rest of the team—Brian/Griever is dead, Alvin/Silverfang is not dead but definitely unable to continue vigilantism somehow, Leanne/Anachron is lost to time (again), Joy/Jaguar’s fate is uncertain she’s probably not dead but definitely not going to continue vigilantism.

The problem is, while I do know what he says before the fight I don’t know what he would say during the fight and I also don’t actually happens in the fight since the point of Twelve Sessions is the more human/vulnerable side of superheroes having to face consequences of being a superhero. Anyways, he would definitely say something encouraging like “We got this” before the fight and then everything goes bad and it becomes a horrible irony that haunts him forever even when he does eventually heal and forgive himself.

So then is there anyone else?

In the same superhero trend, I was thinking of maybe a Tim Drake fic because he is one of my faves and he truly did have one of the worst years of existence if I’m remembering right in which basically everyone he loved died and then Robin was taken from him, but that’d basically be the whole fic and that’s just retreading old ground?

My brain did then jump to DoS since I had already crossed the fanfiction line even though you had specifically mentioned my OCs, but Shikako so very frequently is hit with extremely unfortunate events that she then so often adapts and lands on her feet if I go back to the falling interpretation as a metaphor. BUT THEN, I remembered I do have my own DoS OCs: specifically Shikako’s genin students. And while they’re learning to be as adaptable as her and as casually irreverent about the most bizarre situations, I think that largely depends on her being there. So for them, the bottom dropping out would be something that removes Shikako from the equation.

But wait, didn’t I just say she always lands on her feet? And yes, she does. At this point I would say recursive fic of her almost always has the implicit agreement that she wins/lives/survives/succeeds/protects the people she wants to. Which I do love and would love to hold to. But then I harkened back to ask box fake fic title prompt, Edge Of The Stars in which Shikadai tries to solve the mystery of his missing aunt and it turns out it was aliens/a Stargate.

Which… I still don’t know anything about the Stargate franchise. But the concept still holds: everyone is still alive and I’m sure she’s kicking ass and taking names wherever in the wide universe she got sent to, but as far as the people who love her are concerned Shikako disappeared and never came back.

So a fic in which her students—whether or not they’re still genin (probably not, tbh, considering their sensei’s fast tracking)—cope with her disappearance and really dig down to the core of what she taught them. Because another literal interpretation of the bottom dropping out is that the foundation is what fails or disappears even before the falling even happens.

But I’m also realizing that fic would just be me rambling about those OCs going from students to adults in the absence of their teacher when the more interesting story would be… where the hell IS Shikako and what is she doing?

Like… maybe I’m just overanalyzing the prompt, but I’m trying to figure out which is the most fun part: is it the foundation disappearing? Is it the person falling? Is it the person hitting rock bottom and then dealing with that?

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 26 - Orders - Part 1

Galen had seldom experienced the luxury of a hot bath.

At home, the best he could hope for was a basin of warm water heated on the stove.

There were the bathhouses, of course but as he often got more attention than he wanted there, he'd learned to avoid such places.

The stone pool was all his for the moment, though and he did his best to enjoy it despite the worries fluttering about his head like a flock of restless birds.

The clear water steamed in the cool air and as he stripped out of his clothes and slipped into its welcoming warmth, he took stock of his body for the first time in weeks.

He had grown leaner and hardened up a little from the constant exercise of travel, the daily exertion leaving his muscles lightly toned.

He wondered if he'd gained a little height, as well and as the heat of the water sank through his skin and he watched the shadows in the courtyard slowly shift, he realized that the year must have turned it's quarter some time in the past week or so.

He'd never been sure of the exact date, of course but Harrald had estimated Galen to be about three months old when he'd found him in the snow.

That had been closer to the end of the year, so they had always celebrated his birthday at the fall equinox.

As it seemed that this had come and gone, Galen supposed he must now have entered his eighteenth year.

If he were still in Dern, he would be considered a full-grown man and expected to enter service with the Guard in one capacity or another, as every able-bodied Thrynian must for the first three years of their adulthood.

He had expected and hoped, to be assigned to the medics but there was no guarantee.

He might have ended up holding doors for nobles at the palace or as a scout or as arrow-fodder on the front lines.

There was no way to know until one presented oneself for service and then as much depended on the whims of the recruiting officers as it did on one's own skill.

Behn had hoped to be assigned to the mess... to kitchen duty... while Triss, of course, had been snapped up by the Watchers the moment she came of age.

But none of that mattered, now.

Now, Triss was a deserter and Behn would be marked a coward when or if, he ever returned... as would Galen, if he were not put to death as a witch.

The thought of what his friends had given up for his sake sat heavy on his heart, as did the thought of never seeing his home or Harrald again and as he studied the fast-healing traces of bruises and scrapes marring his skin, he wondered if he was worth such sacrifice.

He was certainly not worth the sacrifice of a life, he thought and his resolve to help Iksthanis if he could hardened even as as his muscles relaxed in the heat of the natural bath.

Clean and refreshed, he emerged and dried himself with a towel from a pile set nearby for that purpose and dressed himself in the soft, loose clothes with which they had all been provided... a pair of cotton trousers, a sleeveless undershirt,and a robe-like outer garment secured with a cloth belt.

Rejoining the others in the large, circular chamber, he found them gathered around a table laden with food, serving themselves portions in generously sized wooden bowls.

There was a deep pot of hearty vegetable stew, fresh-baked bread with butter and honey and a platter of berries, fruits and cheese.

Those who had served themselves already sat about on the beds or on the floor, enjoying the meal, looking more relaxed and happy than they had in weeks.

Here, at last, was a place they could rest without fear and while Iksthanis's fate remain uncertain, there was enough joy in knowing he still lived to lighten their hearts.

Anira had returned as well and stood a little apart, speaking with Sevhalim in a low voice.

Galen frowned as he approached, wondering if he had missed his chance to eavesdrop already and determined to ask his questions directly if need be.

Sev turned as he approached and opened his mouth as if to speak but instead drew a quick breath as his expression went briefly blank with surprise.

Recovering himself, he blinked and offered Galen the ghost of a smile.

"Galen. You look... refreshed," he said.

"The waters are very restorative here," he replied, inclining his head in Anira's direction.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

The gray-haired woman raised a brow at him, the skin of her forehead creasing with lines.

"I would say that you are welcome here but the decision does not rest with me alone. As I have just been explaining to Sevhalim, a council of four... of which I am one... governs this sanctuary. My counterparts request an audience at sunset."

Galen nodded.

"I will be honored to meet them."

Anira smiled.

"And you shall but this meeting is for Hands alone. There are things of which we must speak that are not for the uninitiated. Only Sev and Rea may attend."

Galen turned to Sevhalim and frowned.

"What of Iksthanis?"

Sev met his gaze briefly, his mercurial eyes a dark grey, before he looked away again.

"Let me speak with the council, first. When all is known, the path before us will be clear."

"The path is clear already," Galen argued, lifting his chin.

"If I don't help him, Iksthanis will die and that is not a choice I will make."

Drawing a slow breath, Sevhalim nodded.

"I know. Give me but a few hours and then... Well, then we shall see."

He turned away as Rea joined them and with a few brief words, the three Hands departed.

Galen stood in the arched doorway and watched as they walked up the path through the trees, back the way they had come.

Galen glanced at her, then over his shoulder to where Behn lay, already asleep on his chosen bed.

With Rea and Sev gone and Zenír with Iksthanis and Obi in the infirmary, the three friends were alone for the first time in weeks.

Galen longed for the opportunity to speak with them unguardedly, to voice his worries and fears and to perhaps form some plan for the future but he had other priorities.

Except in the vaguest terms, no one had told him exactly what it meant to be a 'P'Yrha' and what the Order at Jana Val might want with him.

Over the course of their shared journey, he had come to suspect that this was not so much because his companions wished to keep him in the dark as because they, themselves, did not know.

Anira, though, seemed well-informed and was intent on informing Sevhalim and Rea in turn.

Galen did not want to miss the opportunity to be likewise educated, fearing that, if left in the dark, vital decisions might be made without his knowledge or consent.

"I'm going to follow them," he said.

"At least, I'm going to try."

"Good," Triss said, patting his shoulder.

"Behn and I will cover for you, if anyone comes looking. You'd better get moving, though... this place is a maze."

Nodding his agreement, he slipped away down the path after the three Hands, moving swift and silent on bare feet.

If they stayed in the forested areas, he would have plenty of cover but if they were bound for the upper region, where the colossal house was carved into the cliff, he would have a harder time following them unseen.

Fortunately, as he crested a small rise, he glimpsed them up ahead, turning down a stone path flanked by leafy vegetation.

He followed cautiously, keeping his distance.

The path twisted and turned in its descent and the cover was nearly too good... it kept him well hidden but he couldn't see more than a few paces ahead and proceeded with care.

Rounding a bend, Galen came upon an arching stone bridge spanning a small tumbling stream and just glimpsed Rea's back as she turned down an adjoining path on the other side of it.

Dashing lightly across in pursuit, he paused at the bend and peeked through the foliage.

A set of stone steps led down to a paved, circular area below.

At the center of this, a fire crackled merrily in a large stone bowl, around which benches were arranged.

Hugging three sides of the stone platform, the tumbling stream burbled and rushed and on its further bank the land rose in sheer rock clothed in clinging ferns.

It was the perfect place to hold a secret meeting.

The stream would drown out voices and with everyone seated in a circle there was no direction from which an interloper... like Galen... might approach unseen.

Three people were gathered there already, dressed in finer versions of the sort of clothes Galen now wore... long robes loosely belted over free-flowing garments.

They stood as Anira Rea, and Sevhalim approached and greeted them with soft words and gestures of welcome.

Galen swore beneath his breath.

They would surely spot him at once if he descended the path... there was no way he could get down the slope through the brush without making a racket and from his current distance, he couldn't hear a word they said.

Then, as his eyes were drawn upward by the vertical lines of the cliffs, he saw his chance... a great tree with gnarled, overhanging limbs.

If he could make his way around to it and out on one of the limbs, he would be situated directly above the speakers and... he hoped... would be able to hear what they said.

Retreating back up the path, he picked his way around the top of the cliff to the base of the tree, and thanked Thrynis for his good luck when he saw the lowest branches were within reach.

Clambering carefully onto the largest of these which overhung the grotto below, he inched his way out along the horizontal limb.

The smooth bark offered little grip but thankfully the girth was great enough he was in no danger of easily slipping off.

When he was almost directly above the group gathered below, he paused and strained his ears and picked up a thread of conversation.

"I thought you all had been killed," Sev was saying in a wondering tone.

[redeyeflyguy]

Wonderful Top 7's: Top 7 Persona 4 and 5 Dungeon Themes!!! (I haven’t played any of the ones before 4 so I’m not counting them. Also, one song per dungeon. Also also, I'm really excited about Persona 3 Reload) 7. Heaven (Persona 4): Is it weird that this song unnerves me? It’s probably that violin at the beginning and the circumstances that it plays in but the whole song kind of gives me that kind of feeling. It’s peaceful, it has a nice vibe, but despite that I still sense the sadness of a little girl telling herself she’s not alone so she doesn’t fall apart. 6. The Whims of Fate (Persona 5): Yup, this definitely sounds like a song that you’d play in a casino. Not just the lyrics that tell of decadence and extravagance covering up deception and lies (at least that’s what Youtube comments tell me) but that free-wheeling funkiness that seems to say “Hey, let’s live it up!” Definitely adds to the atmosphere even when the glitz and glamor isn’t there. 5. The Days When My Mother Was There (Persona 5): What happens when you take some high pitched techno sounds, some drums that sound like you're wandering through a temple, a very somber guitar, and that P5 funkiness? You get this amazing track. I’d elaborate more but I’ve got four more entries. 4. Memory (Persona 4 Golden): Ironically for a track with this name, I completely forgot that it existed (Blame the dungeon it goes with and the late night I played it on). Even so, I really regret my forgetfulness after hearing it again. This is a beautiful piece with both evoking the softness of the fog and snow and the arduous trek you are undertaking to save a friend (or maybe not depending on how you feel about Marie). 3. Secret Base (Persona 4): This theme sounds both like you're heading through a secret science lab and like you're infiltrating a heavily guarded facility as a stylish secret agent. In any case, incredibly fitting along with being super chill with just the right amount of urgency. Utterly brilliant. 2. Price (Persona 5): If you decide to rob a bank (and you really shouldn’t) and you don’t play this theme (which you should), that would be a crime (just like robbing a bank). Those bongos, that guitar, that synthesizer, oh my goodness. This song screams “HEIST!!” and I love it! 1. Freedom & Security (Persona 5): You know what I think of when I hear this song: Oppression. Sadness. The crushing weight of society and your desires slipping away into numbness, part of a cold and endlessly vast eldritch prison complex. The P5 funkiness fights back but the fight is a hard, maybe even an impossible, one. The things this song makes me feel on top of being a stellar piece of music all to itself without a doubt secures its place at #1 (Pun was not intended). 0. Life Will Change (Instrumental & Vocal) (Persona 5): I wasn’t sure if I should count this. I mean it does play during each of P5’s dungeons and the final dungeon but it also didn't feel right to include it with the others because it doesn’t play for a single dungeon….Oh, who am I kidding. THIS IS AWESOME! IT HYPES YOU UP FOR THE BIG SCORE! IT HYPES YOU UP TO TAKE ON CORRUPT SOCIETY! IT HYPES YOU UP TO GET INTO SMASH! IT HYPES YOU UP! LIFE WILL CHANGE IS AMAZING! 10/10! 5 STARS! ZAGAT! P.S. For the record, the best Persona intro song is Pursuing My True Self, the best battle song is Last Surprise, and the best boss song is a tie between The Almighty and Rivers in the Desert (DON’T MAKE ME CHOOSE!!!) P.P.S. I wasn't think about spin-offs but if I had to pick a Strikers track, I'd say Welcome to the Jail, specifically the version that plays towards the end. What can I say? It rocks hard. P.P.P.S. I Believe from Persona 5 Royal is absolutely spectacular but I've already talked about but I'd put it around #0.5. P.P.P.P.S. Oh and PLEASE ATLUS AND ARC SYSTEM WORKS! GIVE US PERSONA 5 ARENA! JOKER IN SUPER SMASH BROS. DOESN’T COUNT…but thanks for that anyway.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Growing Love

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki returns to Asgard and is confronted by his mother Frigga and her accurate suspicions on his newfound interest in Midgard. While you witness the completion of the building erected for you and Loki by the villagers, followed by his return back to you in the night.

Warnings: None this chapter. Just fluff! First Loki and his mental sparring with Frigga who loves him, and then some well deserved cuddling with you who is also starting to.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername , @just-wordsandthoughts , @cringingmemeries

My Masterlist

——————————

A few days ago, Asgard

Loki emerged from the light, now back home before the bifrost immediately closed once more. The smug smile remained on his face as your last question still played through his mind. He knew that nickname he’d given you wouldn’t be something you’d let go of anytime soon. In fact, he counted on it. Something to distract and occupy you for the coming weeks until he could return.

It may be selfish of course. But if you were becoming stuck in his mind this often, he had to make sure he wasn’t the only one now having to suffer. Though there was something rewarding about getting to hide you away still. Even if he knew the arrangement in the village would come to light eventually, potentially making these trips to your realm far more problematic.

The sooner he could find an alternate route to Midgard to bypass the bifrost and Heimdall entirely, the better. He could not allow all his future ability to see you to become solely dependent on Odin’s whims.

Whatever the Allfather would think of these risks now being taken though, Loki truly did not care. But historically, whatever he’d most desired always ended up taken away from him in one way or another. Or even worse, absorbed into the limitless well of good fortune that seemed to follow Thor like a miasma. So he had to prepare for that, plan for it really.

Of course, you didn’t seem the type to fall apart so easily over just some long blonde hair and an oversized set of muscles. But Loki had lost count ages ago of how many times he’d still ended up with the short end of the stick whenever his brother had entered any situation. Parading you before Thor wan’t something he was willing to chance just yet either.

No, he had to consider both his father and brother now as threats to these new emotions he was still trying to define. It likely shouldn’t be so, but somehow it always was. They always got in his way.

And as Loki now strode forward, his appearance only shifted to that of a standard royal guard, wishing for a more discreet entrance back into the palace after so many hours away. He had let the adorations of those mortals delay him far more than expected.

But the feel of sitting at the head of that mead hall with you at his side had hit him in such a strange way as well. A fleeting taste which had caused him to linger even further there as he’d fantasized about sitting similarly content on Asgard’s throne one day.

That dream of seizing his birthright was nothing new of course, yet the difference was now the addition of you in that mental image. He wanted you there so suddenly, with loyalty and pride radiating from you for all the court to see. He needed you to want to be his, to be willing to do whatever necessary to defy Asgard’s enemies in his name.

And even now, those thoughts brought a flare of desire that he could not act on. Frustrating as it was, he knew he had to maintain some semblance of patience. Heimdall’s silent stare of judgement didn’t even rile him to speaking either as the still disguised Loki passed silently by the gatekeeper.

He was bold enough to change appearance right in front of Heimdall, yes. But he also knew that until he crossed the line of actually doing something which broke Asgardian law, Heimdall would still keep what he had seen to himself. Travel to Midgard was not yet forbidden after all.

But Heimdall’s current courtesy of silence would only go so far as to delay the inevitable. The clock was still ticking on this secret and Loki knew it.

And unlike Midgard that had still been fully night, dawn was now just breaking in Asgard as Loki made his way back into the palace. The sparse guards he did encounter, he only gave little mocking salutes to. Still in the guise of one of them as he’d mimicked their own protocols before he’d turned the corner into the next corridor and ended up at the massive doors to his own living quarters.

So close to being able to hide himself back away for a few moments before the palace fully awakened, he had just placed his palms on the ornate, golden door handles when a sudden sound made him still completely.

“Good morning, son.” The placid voice called to him from nothing as his mother Frigga only materialized directly behind him.

And there was just that smallest moment of fear inside him. Just the length of a heartbeat before he’d turned smoothly to face her, his own magic dissolving to remove his disguise as excuses bubbled readily to his mind.

Of course he was still in the same armor from all those hours before, the muck of that mortal village even still marring the soles of his boots as he offered her an easy smile. “Well...how long have you been waiting here, Mother?”

Yet she responded just as simply, a gentle look in her eyes. “Not long at all really. I suppose I have good timing.”

But he was still searching, examining her body language for any hint of her actual intention. How much did she know? “I suppose that you do. Have Father and dear brother yet returned triumphant from Alfheim then?” No, he doubted that. The halls would not be near as peaceful if so.

“No. They have not.” She only answered. “...But that is exactly why I thought you may wish to speak to me now while whatever we discuss can still be kept relatively private.”

And there it was. He felt that slight bit of tension in his chest as he weighed his options in quick succession. The foundation with you still wasn’t fully laid, he needed more time to secure things. Even though he trusted Frigga, she and the Allfather went hand in hand in the end. She would not lie to her husband if pressed.

And Odin may forbid this odd new relationship outright, fearing some insult to Poseidon no doubt. If that foreign, Olympian king fully knew that the Asgardian god of mischief was now digging his claws greedily into his youngest daughter without permission, it could easily become a full blown scandal.

Loki hadn’t even bothered to investigate if you were betrothed to anyone in your own kingdom or not either. He did not care. He was a prince and would take whatever he wanted.

Though he knew it better to reveal nothing of you to his own family just yet, he also knew that if he offered Frigga too little in return, she would only step up her efforts to investigate on her own. Motherly concern and all, endearing at times, highly troublesome at others. He’d let her feel as if she had pried a little out of him at least as he played along. “And what is it that we should need to discuss so privately, Mother?” Loki asked calmly at last.

Yet she only smiled, surprising him a little still as she took his arm. “Come. Walk with me. You needn’t play such games. A mother knows when her son is enamored.”

He scoffed, though still letting himself be led as they did begin to walk. The halls were still empty enough this early in the morning for their words to not be easily overheard. “Is that what you think this all about? I think you’re confusing me with that manchild of yours for once.”

“Loki,” Frigga only chided. “It is not weakness to admit such feelings. And yes, for your brother that is an all too frequent cycle. He is not yet mature enough for his relationships to be anything but passing frivolity. But you are different. Which is why it becomes all the more noticeable when it finally does happen. Do not waste breath to deny it.”

He raised his eyebrows, never missing when she did offer even the slightest criticism of Thor. But he was still quick to downplay her insinuation about your importance. “Yet you act as if it has never happened for me before. Just because I’ve been more focused on honing my sorcery skills the last several years, it doesn’t mean I haven’t had my share of frivolity as you call it, Mother.”

But Frigga just gave him a disapproving look then. “Do not be crude just to try and shorten this conversation. There is a clear difference between solely that kind of physical interaction you speak of, and this distraction that has now carried you back to Midgard more than three times now. And you know the significance of the number three in so many of the rituals and rights I have taught you, it-”

“No.” He cut in abruptly. That was the line. If she was trying to say this was already something now beyond his control, something fated, he fully rejected that notion. “I don’t follow the predetermined, Mother. And you know I never want to hear whatever future you’ve seen for me. I will make my own.”

But the queen of Asgard was not one to back down either, responding just as strongly, “And all a witch can see is the possible outcomes, not the one that will truly be. I would never curse you with the burden of such knowledge, even if I were sure. But don’t patronize me to act as if nothing has changed for you. I came here to offer you my help, Loki. If you ever wish to make whoever you have chosen legitimate in the Allfather’s eyes, to actually bring them here one day, you will not be able to do it alone. I hope you understand that.”

“Mother...” He couldn’t help but pause to look in her eyes again, as unexpected as that offer really was. Yet he so quickly grabbed onto the possible other meaning as well in her concern. “You say ‘legitimate’ almost as if I was considered the true heir again. After all, who the future king of Asgard could court would be awfully more important than whoever just a prince would choose, correct? Of course, I suppose a marriage that one day joined Asgard and Midgard would also be significantly more impressive politically than say Thor and Sif, or whoever the Hel he’s galavanting around with these nights...”

She gave him a little hit on the arm at that. Of course he knew she hated whenever he mocked whoever his brother’s current fancy was. But she still just continued. “What should be important to you is finding the person that makes you happy, regardless of their own station. That is the future I want for both my sons. Whichever of you should one day hold the throne.”

Of course she still refused to admit Father’s favoritism that Loki saw all too well. He straightened up a little, that real sincerity in him burning through then. “But it will be me, Mother. I will prove myself worthy to Father, worthy of the throne. One way or another.”

And he hated that sympathetic look in her eyes, even though the real warmth was still there as she answered. “And I still say you’ll be far happier when you focus on yourself rather than chasing the Allfather’s approval. He already loves you both, just as I do.”

That was all he could handle for now, as he took her hand gently, bowing to her slightly before he kissed it. “No, he does not love as unequivocally as you do, Mother. But I do thank you for that. I will consider your offer. Yet I think it is still too early just yet.”

And as he straightened back up, he could see she at least accepted this. She would not dig any further into his visits to Midgard just yet. But he’d only bought additional time for just so long he was sure.“I’m going back to my quarters for a brief rest now.” He told her. “But if you need me any further today, you will find me in the throne room. Where I belong.”

Until Odin and Thor returned from Alfheim, this would be his privilege. His days would be spent hearing any grievances of the kingdom, presiding over council meetings, casting decisions on any changes to security measures, and standing as the head of all the remaining soldiers here for Asgard’s defense.

But at night...at night he’d return to his chambers. And laying there alone, surely that would be when he’d pass the remaining time awake thinking of you. Thinking and hoping that those mortals would hurry up and complete that room and bed for you both.

Whatever they built would still not be to his standards he was sure. But until you could truly lay in his own bed beneath him in Asgard, he would have to accept the compromise of a little hovel of a den for you both in Midgard.

—————————-

Midgard, several weeks later

The days passed so slowly for you. You now divided your time between your normal duties monitoring the oceans, and taking that form of the osprey, flying to visit the little village in the north that Loki had claimed for you both.

Never before had you spent so much time around mortals to be honest. And at first you’d still taken every possible measure to remain hidden from their sight. But eventually, that effort grew too tiresome.

After a while, you didn’t stay so high in the trees any longer. Yourself curious to be true, and watching as step by step they’d raised the timbers to begin building that structure Loki had requested.

You still stayed just out of their reach surely, but you didn’t fly away anymore when you saw them take notice of you. They’d even greet you quite frequently now, just calling you that nickname Loki had given you which they thought your real name. Kærr.

Especially the children. Whenever they moved out into the forest to play or gather freshwater from the nearby stream you’d also now discovered, they always giggled and called to you as they ran along beneath.

You’d even noticed that they gradually seemed to stray farther and farther from the village than they had in the beginning. As if your presence alone gave them confidence of their safety. It was such an odd sense of responsibility. One you weren’t quite sure you were ready for just yet.

The days were growing shorter too, the nights far colder by the time they finally finished that building. And as Loki had suggested, it was still quite small. Like a one room cabin really. Though they’d made quite a show of asking for your approval on it, you didn’t know what you were supposed to really do. They seemed to take your silence as a positive at least before they’d left again saying you could now summon your “master” and they would leave him to his privacy in the new dwelling.

You’d still waited until it was late at night though, knowing most the mortals would now be sleeping before you’d finally landed, changing back to the form of a woman as you’d walked to take a closer look at the building in the dim moonlight.

They’d built this also far enough from the village, here in the deeper woods that they could not stumble accidentally back upon it unless they really meant to. So you weren’t afraid of being seen as you’d walked the perimeter curiously.

It seemed sturdy enough. Quaint, but somehow inviting. And as you moved back towards the door, you realized they’d also listened to Loki’s criticism on their village’s carvings needing to be changed to reflect their new protector.

You couldn’t help but smile as you recognized well that likeness as you now ran your fingers across the rises and falls carved into the wood. The cape, the outlines of armor, the horned helmet...

But the real surprise was his pose, one arm bent, raised near level with his chest. And there perched upon that arm, was a bird of prey. You. Looking far more regal than you ever really had right to be you were sure.

There was a mix of mild embarrassment and a strange amusement that rose in you as you took the whole image in. It was quite possibly the only likeness anyone had ever made for you in the mortal realm. And paired with Loki no less.

Eros’ words carried on your heart still as you finally opened the door to venture inside. You knew Eros couldn’t be wrong, not on this subject. But it didn’t seem like it should be true either. How could you be falling in love when you didn’t even know the real meaning of the word? When you’d only had such fleeting meetings with this man?

The little bit of moonlight barely penetrated the inside of the dwelling and you just left the door open to not fully smother the light as you walked in onto the rough wooden floors. Though they’d laid down some rugs as well as your feet found them.

The furniture was sparse and simple, though maybe still the best of what they had to be truthful. A couple chairs, a small table, a chest for belongings, and of course a bed.

There were candles, but you had nothing to light them with as you now sat down on the empty bed. It was certainly a far cry from the large and extravagant bedding in your father’s palace.

But for someone who could just as easily sleep to the rocking of the waves or the silence of the deeper depths, a makeshift mattress stuffed with wool, moss, or who really knew what, really wasn’t a problem.

It was so quiet too. You laid down on your back, just to get the feeling of it as you stared up at the beams which arched into the ceiling. It reminded you most of the beams inside the hull of a ship, which was likely little coincidence. The ancestors of these people were all seafarers.

Idly, you wondered too if Loki had ever been to sea. You knew from those books you’d read that Asgard had waters of its own. But did he feel comfortable on the water? Did he ever sail? Did he swim? And maybe more importantly, would he ever swim with you?

You closed your eyes, thinking what it could be like to show him things he’d never seen before. Would he feel as good under the water as he did above it? Would he ever visit your own kingdom?

Of his own family, all you really knew was the tension and seeming competition between he and his brother. Would any of your own siblings be impressed by him though? Surprised surely. You’d never brought anyone to the palace before. Maybe one day...

————————————

You thought you were only dreaming. Because it wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. Especially in the long stretches between seeing one another. That scent of him, the feel of his cool skin against your own, albeit only making you feel heated as you breathed in deeper.

It wasn’t until you felt that lightest kiss on the back of your neck that your eyes fluttered open. Laying on your side on the bed, as your vision focused you noticed the door to the cabin was now closed. That and a single candle newly lit, flickering dimly on the small table just a few feet away.

You’d fallen asleep at some point. For how long was unclear. But you were absolutely no longer alone.

“Hello, Kærr.” Loki’s voice came in an almost taunting whisper, using that nickname again.

You were startled, but you didn’t hesitate, rolling over immediately to then be face to face with him in the shifting candlelight.

The glint of his teeth met you as he smiled in amusement. But whatever harsh words you may have thought he still deserved, they didn’t come as you’d also noticed his bare chest now nearly against you.

You had to glance down to realize he wasn’t nude however. But dressed solely in a dark pair of pants as he laid so closely beside you.

“You left the door open you know. I took it as an invitation.” He added, one hand now tracing idly down the side of your dress.

“How long have you been here?” You finally asked, but tellingly not pulling away at all as you let the small touches continue.

“Long enough to realize you’ll have me putting protection spells all around these walls if this is how deeply you really sleep, goddess. Imagine if I’d wanted to do more than kiss that pretty throat.”

You stared a moment. And yes, maybe you should have been embarrassed to be caught so defenseless. But in reality, what real enemies had you ever had? You didn’t live always keeping one eye over your shoulder. Yet...was he implying he would choose to protect you if it ever came to that?

You only shifted closer to him at those words rather than retort though, boldly laying your head against his chest then as you scooted down a little in the bed. You liked the way he tensed slightly too, seeming surprised before he just pulled the bed’s quilt up around you both.

The secure feeling as his arm tightened around you beneath the blanket was also very new. Both of you quiet until it was you who next broke the silence. “Will you stay tonight then?” You could have asked how he’d known you were here, how many times he’d been checking on you via Heimdall, but it really didn’t matter.

All you actually cared about in this moment was how long until you’d have to say goodbye to him again.

His tone seemed unusual, caught off guard still perhaps. But he answered simply. “If it’s what you want. Yes.”

Which likely meant that his father and brother had finally returned to Asgard you thought. But you didn’t want to talk about anyone else right now. This time was now just for the two of you.

“It is what I want.” You confirmed, though not looking up at him in the bed. But with your head still against his chest, you could just hear his own heartbeat. And you didn’t think it was only in your imagination that it quickened at those simple words.

But it was true. You may not understand or be able to express more than this right now. You didn’t know how to talk about love or deeper need. Yet you could be honest to say you wanted him to stay. You wanted him beside you for as long as he could be.

And he just held onto you, staying pressed together as if it should always be this way. But it had to mean something to him too you hoped. Because Loki didn’t seem at all the type of god to do anything if it didn’t fulfill some sort of need for himself as well.

No, you didn’t think he would stay just because you’d asked, unless he’d already wanted to. But you wouldn’t question it out loud, not now as you closed your eyes again.

It likely didn’t take you very long to fall back asleep either to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat beneath your head. Yet even as you did you could also feel the rise and fall of his chest steadying out as his breathing relaxed in tandem.

If he did stay awake to watch you, it only would have been just barely as the two of you remained curled into one another beneath that blanket. He’d asked you once before, though under more lustful circumstances, if you could get used to being with him. You’d answered yes then, wanting the chance surely, but had he meant it in this way too when he’d asked?

Eros had given you the advice to see this through. He said it was the only way to know if your growing love might ever actually be returned by this god. And that was exactly what you were now going to do.

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[bard-llama]

Ciri contemplating on the Geopolitical chessboard that has formed: "Let's see, we have Meve in Lyria and Rivia, Anais could take up Free... Well, whatever... Temeria, Adda has a strong claim in Redenia, Skellige seems fine under Cerys, the Free Pontar Valley has Saskia, Kaedwen is leaderless, we don't care about Dol Blathanna... Stennis in Aedirn is a problem, but I'll find some way to get rid of him." Vooris is confused on why she would like to get rid of such a sycophant.

Ooooh, I like that! Like, politically, I think Ciri has to marry Morvran Voorhis, because we know that the Nilfgaardian nobles are displeased with the war and how much Emhyr has committed to it. So bringing in a daughter no one has ever heard of? Yeah, she would have to marry someone that appeases the noble families or she would face civil war.

Morvran was groomed by Emhyr as a potential successor (+ his dad was part of a plot to remove Emhyr and place Morvran on the throne, but he wasn't involved in it. Still, I might be a lil pissed if my mentor hanged my dad, even if my dad betrayed me). But we know that Ciri will be a very different ruler from Emhyr. She takes the throne wanting to make real change the way a lone witcher cannot, which likely means she'd enact a number of social reforms, even if she has to fight the nobility to get it through.

But all that is to say, Morvran's expectations of what his Empress will be like are probably wildly inaccurate at first, so he'd be very confused why she would get rid of someone who can so clearly easily be controlled.

But she doesn't want tools, she wants people. She wants to be able to make life better for peasants and nonhumans and other such marginalized groups. She wants to see leaders of other kingdoms that care about their people. That are reasonable and can be worked with. (That they all happen to be women is a happy 'coincidence'. But uh... turns out that in patriarchial societies, women tend to do a better job of not thinking with their cocks).

So there's the Free Pontar Valley with Saskia. There's Enid an Gleanna/Francesca Findabair in Dol Blathanna, Meve in Lyria and Rivia, and Adda the White in Redania/Kaedwen (Redania invaded Kaedwen and took over under Radovid). That's a lot of the North's real estate. All that's really left is Aedirn, like you said. And Stennis would be a problem, but it kinda depends on what state Aedirn is in. By which I mean, if Nilfgaard took over Aedirn after Demavend's death, even if Stennis was left alive (the coward probably ran from battle), then Aedirn would just need to be governed locally by someone loyal to Nilfgaard. Which some could maybe argue Stennis is, but uh... yeah, we know better. Also, he's a shit leader and if he was governor, then Aedirn is falling into ruin, esp after the invasion. So getting rid of him would be more like getting rid of an irritating beaurocrat. She could probably even do it without killing him, but where's the fun in that? Or maybe she extradites Stennis to Saskia and they put him on trial for the attempted assassination?

On the other hand, if Stennis takes over the throne after his father dies in W2 and somehow manages to not get taken over by Nilfgaard (which actually is possible, but only if we ignore the probable canon that Nilfgaard takes Lyria and Rivia too). Then you've got several strong (potentially) rulers and one weak link in the chain. But if Ciri wants to conquer Aedirn, then her army has to get there. Which is important for several reasons.

1) After the Nilfgaardian War + the White Frost, her army is... probably not in the best state. And Nilfgaard enlists their infantry, meaning if you're a farmer or whatever of eligible age and fitness, you are now fighting on the front for Nilfgaard. But a lot of their infantry dies (because they're inexperienced and not soldiers), which means suddenly her realm doesn't have enough farmers to bring in the crops or to sow new ones for next year. That's likely part of why Nilfgaard was demanding grain as tribute from conquered villages. But locally, they probably destroyed most of the crops ('cause walking an army over a farm will do that), so there's already gonnna be (already are) issues with famine in her empire.

2) If Ciri did somehow put together the fighting force to take Aedirn, she has to get there. This is getting super long, so I'll put the map under a cut, but the only direct way from her territory (i.e. all of Nilfgaard below the Yaruga + Temeria and Temeria's protectorates (Brugge, Sodden, etc.)) into Aedirn is north of the Mahakaman Mountains, through Iorveth's forest. Which means she's have to march her army all the way to the northern tip of her territory and then establish supply lines through a forest that is filled with monsters and murdrous squirrels (well, maybe).

Okay, I guess technically a second way to get to Aedirn would be to go by sea and then sail up the Pontar. But transporting infantry by sea is a huge undertaking, so it's still not terribly practical.

And, frankly, their ability to sail up the Pontar could be limited. Because they probably lost a lot of their navy during the White Frost thing, but also, it's in Redania's best interests to prevent Nilfgaard from accessing the Pontar. Even if it means blockading the busiest trade route in the north. Which doesn't exactly help with the famines.

Besides, even if Ciri's army could make land on the Aedirnian shore of the Pontar. That is a very narrow strip of land. Dol Blathanna is kind of on Nilfgaard's side, so they might agree (or not be asked) to letting an army travel over their land.

There is a river off the Pontar that goes to Vengerberg, so potentially she could make land there. But once again, that means supply lines dependent on waterways that she doesn't control.

So how does Ciri take Aedirn? Well, I'd say 2 ways, maybe 3:

1) Send in a covert strike team to assassinate Stennis and sweep in during the chaos. Which is good in that the strike team could probably get to Aedirn easily enough. But if she's going to occupy territory, she needs her army. Which leads to:

2) Try to encourage Meve to take over Aedirn, maybe even promise trade agreements and/or support to make it happen. The bright side: all that extra territory is not Ciri's problem and Stennis is still gone. The downside: well, if Meve is the expansionist sort (i don't know her well enough to say one way or another), then potentially Meve might try to conquer Dol Blanthanna (bad for northern stability and geopolitics, but not that big of a deal to Ciri personally) and might try to push Nilfgaard's border further south, because she knows that having an expansionist on your border signals future fighting.

3) Or, Ciri could negotiate with Meve, get permission to bring her army through Rivia to get to Aedirn. Some problems with this: Meve really kinda hates Nilfgaard, so is not likely to be inclined to agree. Ciri would have to establish supply lines through Rivia, which would at any time be subject to Meve's whims, plus probably attacks from the locals, who both hate Nilfgaard and might be short on food.

Hahaha, this is a very long and political answer, so sorry about that, but theorizing like this is really fun!

Maps:

Here’s the best map we have for the continent:

And here’s a map with some very messy political territories highlighted.

Okay, sorry it’s horribly messy, but essentially what we can see is that Nilfgaard owns the western side of the continent all the way up to the Pontar. Above the Pontar, Redania owns a HUGE chunk of land spanning east beyond Nilfgaard’s reach. Nilgaard owns everything south of the Yaruga and the territory west of the Mahakaman Mountains below the Pontar. (Just an interesting note: Mahakam was a Temerian protectorate, so technically Nilfgaard owns them. But having a city inside a mountain is not the same as getting an army across said mountains.) On the eastern side of the Mahakaman Mountains, we have the main territories that Nilfgaard doesn’t own. First, the northern border of Nilfgaard in the east is with Lyria and Rivia. Then there’s the huge chunk of land that belongs to Aedirn, except Aedirn might not have an heir to rule. And above that (previously a protectorate of Aedirn) is Dol Blathanna aka the elven state that Scoia’tael aren’t allowed in. Then, on the other side of a mountain range, the Free Pontar Valley lies between the Pontar and Dol Blathanna. 

Which is all to say: Aedirn’s fate is very questionable, but they’re actually in a pretty good location to avoid being conquered by Nilfgaard.