#em reads war and peace

[emeraldelysium]

omg it's the duel between pierre and dolokhov! (rambling analysis between the show and the book under the cut)

it's really interesting to compare these chapters to the duel (song). in the book, this happens far before the whole thing with anatole and natasha (like 6 years before). notably some characters & lines are different, all in favor of how the plot in the show has to move a lot faster, e.g. several paragraphs when dolokhov misses his shot become just three lines in the song ("missed, missed / oh my mother, my angel / my adoréd angel mother"). nesvitsky becomes anatole, and nikolay, who is dolokhov's second, is absent (denisov does get to stay though!) anatole being pierre's second is both for the convenience of a known character (the cast is cut WAY down in the show, for obvious reasons) and to further pierre & anatole's relationship for the audience. in the book, nesvitsky has to tell pierre how to hold a gun because he's never done so before (and then goes "oh yeah, i totally knew that. i just…forgot" because he doesn't want to admit it lol), which comes out in anatole's lines warning pierre to hold his fire. book pierre also seems more reluctant/willing to admit how stupid this is, but his apathy makes him go through with it (anatole is the one to acknowledge this instead, which is a great line because lucas steele is amazing "OOOOHHH this is horribly stupid :(", and pierre's apathy is shown in the show through his reply to hélène (who is there in the show but absent in the book, good for both showing their terrible relationship and to make the audience think pierre died for a sec) it makes sense for musical pierre to be more caught up in the heat of the moment though, and regret it afterwards, which leads nicely into dust & ashes

[newdayslinguine]

Somuch to read so much to watch so much to do and only 24 hours in this godforsaken day and i have to waste a third of it sleeping! Dear lord

[amorfista]

[WIP] "Shenanigans at the beach"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city there is out there!

But hold up just a second...

-"Hey Wrecker, look!"

"...now wouldn't it be a shame if someone was feeling extra mischievous today?" Omega thought to herself. Turning to her left, lips pressed in a smile, she discovered Wrecker mimicking her expression. Apparently, he had just read her mind >:).

Tech had felt such peace, such safety that he had fallen into a deep slumber, further fueled by his usual lack of sleep.

Tough seldom wrong, today he was.

Because at this moment Tech was, in fact, in grave danger.

...TO BE CONTINUED!!

[Part 3] [Part 4]

(Acknowledging the lil' banner for a fraction of a second, it's just something I'm testing out and would like some feedback if you'd be so kind to give it :)) I'll probably make it just a tad bit more refined and (possibly) include the members of the Batch appearing on the post? but I might just randomize it for fun too. Thank you for taking the time to read this!!)

OKAY SOO. I decided to post these two drawings that I completed a few days ago because:

- once again i deadass couldn't wait anymore💀

- I have decided to make as many "beach episode" themed drawings as I can during the summer (and fall if we get there cuz why not) so i'll just post them as I'm done with each of 'em! I have SO many ideas for it and I want it to be a big project and not some sketches as I had initially planned. I want to make it WHOLESOME and HEART MELTING!! Whenever I get burnt out or need some fresh air I'll draw other things, probably still within the Star Wars theme because the brainrot is real🤓, but just letting you know in advance because AAAH!! this is a big thing for me and I want to share it with you guys because love is all you've shown me and I want to reciprocate 💕 🥺 

- and last but DEF NITELY not least I want to celebrate thAT I REACHED 300+ FOLLOWERS TODAY!! AND ALSO 1000+ NOTES ON MY OMEGA DRAWING??!! IN LIKE NO TIME TOO!!? WHAT THE FRICK. THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!!

Never before had my art had such an impact in a community. I am so grateful for all of your comments and interactions with my drawings, it's a ridiculous boost in inspiration and confidence :) It makes me want to push my limits every time!! So once again THANK YOU!!☺️ 💕 

Here's my taglist, just let me know if you wish to join!! ♥

@dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes

[m0nsterqzzz]

Valentine

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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader

summary: Clarisse blinked and suddenly she had you as a Valentine

content: clarisse being a love sick foul. thats it. thats the entire fic

a/n: recently started listening to Laufey and I have like TEN different fic ideas nowwwww ahhhhhh. this is really short but idk i kinda like it. idkkkkkkk. ahhhh. anyway, love yall.

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Clarisse has a problem.

It's not like a, "I just killed some Dionysus kid with my spear" type problem, but it's a problem nonetheless.

When she was a kid, the daughter of Ares hated affection. Even when her own mother would try and hug her, it just made her feel crowded and trapped. She'd avoid it at any costs, which is why now in her teenage years at camp half blood, she's never had a relationship.

That's usually been okay. She's always preferred glory or love. But right now, as she clings to you like a koala bear while you read your book in her bed, she finds herself questioning it.

This is the problem.

She’s never craved affection the way she does with you. When you hug her or wrap your arms around her waist from behind, she doesn’t feel trapped or crowded the way she does with everyone else. She feels safe and warm. 

Something is wrong with her.

It only dawned on her when she was sitting on the beach with you watching the sunset. The way the golden light looked on your face, it was shining off your already beautiful eyes, and you looked mythical as you turned to cast her a heart stopping smile.

Clarisse La Rue, scary daughter of the god of war, is in love with you.

She panicked, avoiding you for a whole week before she finally came to peace with her feelings. That doesn’t mean she told you, if some of you were expecting that. She loves what friendship you guys have, and she would never want to ruin it by doing something as stupid as telling you about her emotions.

It didn’t help that you were so affectionate though.

So after months of stopping cuddles with the excuse, “It’s getting warm.” or explaining her crimson face after time you congratulate her sword fighting wins with a kiss on the cheek as a reaction to the heat outside, she finally went to the one person she knew could help.

Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite and expert when it comes to crushes.

“Ask ‘em out.” Was what the girl said, casually brushing out her hair as Clarisse groans into her pillow.

“You don’t get it.” The daughter of Ares says with much annoyance, rolling over on her friend's bed as she holds a stuffed animal close to her chest. “I can’t. I try, but every time I build up the courage to say it, the words get stuck in my throat and I end up looking like a total idiot! I hate it!”

Silena chuckles, joining Clarisse on the bed as she shrugs. “Then die alone I guess. I really don’t know how to help you other than that.”

So….Silena was no help if you didn’t know.

Clarisse has just about given up at this point, instead deciding to just keep dying internally while still being friends with you.

She lasted with this just about four minutes.

“You look pretty.” You had casually said to her while putting on your golden helmet for capture the flag, folding up the sleeves on the flannel you’re wearing- one of hers- as Annabeth shouts out orders.

She’s caught off guard, almost dropping her spear and tripping over a rock. She swallows thickly before she says, “You…you look pretty too.” Silena eyes her with a teasing look from across the clearing, making kissy faces with a smug look. Clarisse doesn’t even know if she gave you a worthy compliment, stuttering out a quick goodbye before she makes her way into the forest to avoid anyone seeing her blush.

After that she manages to keep to herself for about an hour.

She’s running through the forest looking for you after hearing a scream that sounds way too similar to yours, ready to rip the head off of anyone who dared to mess with you. She finds you casually lounging on a rock near the beach, sword discarded on the sand as you talk joyfully with some younger campers. The sound of her erratic breathing alerts you, so you turn around, calming down when you notice it’s her.

“Hey Clar. What’s wro-” You don’t even get to finish before she’s picking you up in her arms, burying her head in the crook of her neck as she grips you as tight as she can without hurting you. You’re confused though you don’t question it, just running a hand through her curly hair as she shakes and slowly calms down.

It’s surprising really. Clarisse hates being affectionate in front of other people, scared of being seen as weak or too emotional. Though right now, she doesn’t seem to care as all the younger campers stare and giggle, just enjoying your embrace as forces down the fear she felt when she thought you were in trouble.

She realizes now that she can’t just keep this secret. She can’t go another minute without you knowing how much she loves you- that she would go to the ends of the earth or fight as many monsters as she needs to just to see your smile.

So for the first time in her life she skips capture the flag, joining the Apollo kids at the arts and crafts table and glaring at anyone who dares to question why she’s here and not out there fighting.

Silena joins her after a while, spending an hour making bracelets and teasing her friend while the daughter of Ares makes the cheesiest sign anyone has ever seen.

You’re lying in bed with a book when someone knocks on your cabin door. You frown in confusion, sure it’s one of your siblings and wondering why they don’t just open it. You call out for the person to come in, but when nothing happens and another knock comes through, you groan and get up to answer it.

The annoyance is immediately gone when you open it to see your best friend, though the confusion is still there as you take in her appearance.

The glittery, pink and red sign that is covered in hearts with the words, “I’ve been struck by cupids arrow. Will you be my Valentine?” is a harsh juxtaposition to the dark clothing on her body and shiny, sharp spear hooked to her back. It’s adorable, really. The way her face scrunches up as she slowly and slowly spirals deeper into the thought that this is the cringiest thing ever done in the history of the planet, the way she shifts from foot to foot as you stare in awe, the way she nervously smiles your way.

“If you hate it, it was Silena’s idea.” She mumbles when you don’t speak for a few seconds.

“And if I love it?” Your words surprise her, but she soon recovers and responds as a grin takes over her face, “Then it was all my idea.”

You nod, gently plucking the flower out of her hand then grabbing the sign so that her hands are free to hug you. She easily does, wrapping her arms securely around your waist as she pulls you as close as possible.

“I blinked and suddenly I had a valentine.” She whispers before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Clarisse has a problem.

But you are the perfect solution.

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[l-lend]

a/n: I already hear you "K, this isn't Star Wars. What gives?" I have other tastes, but this is more for a friend of mine. She went through some stuff and I felt really bad for having this sit in my drafts for so long. So uh surprise @ghostlythunderbird those snippets of mine you were reading were for you! Enjoy my friend <3 First time writing Ghost, so if anyone want to give feedback I'm down to hear it.

The medical staff stuck towards the walls as he passed. His ebony garb and stoic demeanor would have some patients pondering if they had gazed upon an angel of death. He doffed his signature mask for a face mask that adhered to medical standards. His hood draped over his head only offering brief glimpses of his blond locks. Pairs of eyes continued to burn into his back as he winded along identical hallways. He finally came to a halt before one of the doors left cracked open. Peeking through the crack, his gaze found her.

She always looked so peaceful when she slept. The worries and stresses of her job never showing when she was like this. The cause of her hospital stay rested above the sheets methodically bound in gauze. He eased the door open to accommodate his larger frame as he crept in.

A machine chirped before a low buzzing was heard. His eyes darted to the nearby screen as her vitals updated. A swear slipped past his lips as she stirred. Her eyes blinked back the medically induced haze. A drowsy smile curled her lips.

“Hey you.”

“Hey, love.”

He approached her bed to take a seat in the nearby chair. She planted her hands on her mattress to prop herself up.

“How was the flight?”

“They blur together after a while. Especially when your in-flight entertainment doesn't stop.”

The chuckle that left her was a welcomed sound.

“Well, remind me to thank Johnny for sending a card.”

He huffed what passed as a laugh before his gaze fell to her covered hand.

“How's that holding up?”

“Still hurts, but I think they fixed it up alright.”

He shook his head, “You can tell me who was the bell en' who had you doin' that.”

“I don't need him disappeared, Simon.”

“I'll only talk to him for a minute.”

She rolled her eyes before her unbandaged hand reached out for his. Her eyes met his to silently ask permission before her fingers curled around his.

“I appreciate it, but I...like having you here. Just wish it was better circumstances.”

The silence was a comfort between the pair. No irritating static to fill the void with empty words. Her gaze trailed to her bedside table where a bouquet of vermillion blooms rested in a vase.

“Johnny said you picked the flowers out yourself.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders slightly.

“Mum had a thing for 'em. Picked up on some things she mentioned.”

She brought his hand to her, pressing her lips to the back of his hand, “and who says you don't have a sensitive side.”

A rare smile crinkled his mask, “Everyone but you, birdie.”

Her giggle eased the fatigue of jetlag from his bones.

“Don't worry, bugaboo. Secret's safe with me.”

[haikirii]

q!Cellbit just wants to give what he didn't have, because now he's living the life he never could: an analysis of his relationship with the Eggs

disclaimer: I wrote this long before the eggs disappeared so… MAYBE it's out of date, keep that in mind when you read it but this is my analysis of that time

q!Cellbit grew up in the war, that is a fact. His life has never been particularly peaceful since then and, considering that shortly after the war ended he was arrested, he was never able to truly live.

Survive. Your mind is always focused on surviving, on not dying to anything or anyone, on staying alive. His playground was the battlefield, his childhood games were to kill his adversaries. His "quiet time" was amidst the chaos of a field of blood.

Soon after he was arrested, living a few good years there before escaping in a miraculous way after threatening everyone and having a gun with a bullet and a dream. He had miraculous therapy, became a detective and is now living on an island; married; with a son; being friends with the people he threatened; leader of a resistance and constantly being manipulated - and trying to manipulate back - a cruel mysterious organization that has trapped everyone where they are.

Anyway, I've repeated these lines so much that they were simply written automatically without me even thinking straight. I may seem repetitive in the next paragraph, but it's something I want to emphasize: q!Cellbit didn't have a life.

q!Cellbit didn't live his life. He spent all these years before arriving on the island thinking about just surviving, he only had the chance to live a "normal" life NOW. On that island where he was tortured; mistaken; kidnapped; had his friend kidnapped; his son was threatened; his family broken multiple times; his nearly month-long investigation stolen; all this, for this damn place to be where he's probably having the best time of his life.

Understand? Do you understand how absurd this seems? And that's exactly why q!Cellbit does everything to protect the eggs: he wants all of them to have the life he didn't have. That they can play without worrying about having to survive another day; that they just be the children they deserve to be and not the killing machine he was when he was younger.

q!Cellbit wants his son to just do the pranks he does, for Richarlyson to enjoy his childhood and his paintings without him having to worry about who the person he will kill tomorrow will be. q!Cellbit wants his son to live a normal life. In fact, he wants all the eggs to live a normal childhood.

Even with all the dangers that plague the island, even though the eggs were forced to be little warriors like he was, he still always does his best to encourage them to play. He always joins in on their games, always falls for their pranks, always prioritizes talking to them and has always treated them like what they are: children.

And that's exactly what makes it 1000x worse that he was the one who found the report of the little egg abandoned at the adoption center. For me, he saw his reflection there in those dirty pages and desperate words of a child who just wanted to be loved by someone.

An egg that I'm sure q!Cellbit would have loved to give the love he so deserved, a love that overflows with his failures and setbacks.

A love that every child deserves.

pt-br

disclaimer: eu escrevi isso bem antes dos ovos sumirem então... TALVEZ esteja desatualizado, tenham isso em mente quando ler mas isso é a minha análise daquela época

q!Cellbit cresceu na guerra, isso é um fato. Sua vida nunca foi particularmente tranquila desde então e, considerando que logo depois que a guerra acabou ele foi preso, ele nunca pôde realmente viver.

Sobreviver. Sua mente sempre focada em sobreviver, em não morrer para nada e nem ninguém, em ficar vivo. Seu parquinho era o campo de batalha, suas brincadeiras eram matar seus adversários. Sua "época tranquila" foi em meio ao caos de um campo de sangue.

Logo depois ele foi preso, vivendo alguns bons anos lá antes de fugir de uma forma mirabolante depois de ameaçar todos e tendo uma arma com uma bala e um sonho. Fez uma terapia milagrosa, virou um detetive e agora está vivendo em uma ilha; casado; com um filho; sendo amigo das pessoas que ameaçou; líder de uma resistência e sendo constantemente manipulado - e tentando manipular de volta - uma organização misteriosa cruel que prendeu todos aonde estão.

Enfim, eu já repeti tanto essas linhas que elas simplesmente foram escritas automáticamente sem eu sequer pensar direito. Posso parecer repetitivo no próximo paragrafo, mas é algo que eu quero frisar: q!Cellbit não teve uma vida.

q!Cellbit não viveu a vida dele. Ele passou todos esses anos até chegar na ilha pensando em apenas sobreviver, ele só teve a chance de viver uma vida "normal" AGORA. Nessa ilha onde ele foi torturado; enganado; sequestrado; teve seu amigo sequestrado; seu filho ameaçado; sua família quebrada diversas vezes; sua investigação de quase um mês roubada; tudo isso, para esse lugar maldito ser onde ele provavelmente estar tendo a melhor fase de sua vida.

Entende? Entende o quão absurdo isso parece? E é exatamente por isso que q!Cellbit faz de tudo para proteger os ovos: ele quer que todos eles tenham a vida que ele não teve. Que eles possam brincar sem se preocupar em ter que sobreviver mais um dia; que eles sejam apenas as crianças que eles merecem ser e não a máquina de matar que ele foi quando menor.

q!Cellbit quer que seu filho apenas faça as pegadinhas que ele faz, que Richarlyson aproveite sua infância e suas pinturas sem que ele tenha que se preocupar quem será a pessoa que ele matará amanhã. q!Cellbit quer que seu filho viva uma vida normal. Na verdade, ele quer que todos os ovos vivam uma infância normal.

Mesmo com todos os perigos que assolam a ilha, mesmo que os ovos tenham sido forçados a serem pequenos guerreiros como ele fora, ainda assim ele sempre faz o possível para incentivar que eles brinquem. Sempre entra nas brincadeiras deles, sempre cai nas pegadinhas, sempre dá prioridade para falar com eles e sempre os tratou como o que eles são: crianças.

E é exatamente nisso que é 1000x pior que tenha sido ele a achar o relato do pequeno ovo abandonado no centro de adoção. Para mim, ele viu seu reflexo ali naquelas páginas sujas e palavras desesperadas de uma criança que só queria ser amada por alguém.

Um ovo que eu tenho certeza de que q!Cellbit teria amado dar o amor que tanto merecia, um amor que transborda de suas falhas e recaídas.

Um amor que toda criança merece.

[666writingcafe]

The Dining Car

"So, according to the pamphlet, we'll be on the train all night before arriving at the station closest to Lake Io Lanthe in the morning. Once we get off the train, we'll be walking the rest of the way."

Once I'm done talking, Mammon rolls his eyes at me. I understand not wanting to share a room with Luke, but that doesn't completely explain the bad attitude he's had all day, nor does it excuse it.

"You need to take this seriously," Luke chides Mammon. "What if we get lost?" Another eye roll.

"At least I'm not bouncin' up and down like a kid in a candy store."

"That's not how you behaved in the kitchen," MC retorts, glancing up from their copy from the pamphlet to glare at him. Mammon merely returns to picking at his food, which suggests to me that he's too scared to talk back to them. It's interesting, the idea of him fearing them. I don't think he feels that way about anyone else, not even Lucifer--and I've heard some rather loud yelps from him when he's caught red-handed by his brother.

But he has been known to argue with Lucifer, and he's not even attempting to do anything like that with MC.

"Apparently, each of the cars on this train is named after an angel," MC reads out loud.

"Lemme see!" Luke exclaims. Once MC hands him the pamphlet and points to where the information is located, his face lights up.

"That's so cool! It shows just how much they love angels here in the human world." A brief pause, followed by a gasp. "And the first car is named after Michael himself!"

I take a sip from my beverage in order to stop myself from sighing. I really wish Luke didn't hold Michael on this high pedestal. It's only going to hurt him in the long run when he discovers that the seraph is far from perfect.

Don't get me wrong; Michael is ultimately a good person. He just has a lot of issues, his obsession with Lucifer being one of them. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't gotten in trouble for his shrine. The mere possibility of the de-facto man in charge worshiping the Avatar of Pride rather than devoting himself to God--I mean, Father--would bring about an amount of chaos that hasn't been seen since the Great War.

It would certainly make my situation seem far tamer in comparison.

"I mean, when it comes down to it, are angels really that great? I don't see what's so special about 'em."

"How dare you!" Great. Luke and Mammon are arguing.

"Take a deep breath, Luke," MC instructs.

"You're right," he replies once he's calmed down. "I can't let Mammon's stupid attempts at provoking me succeed."

"You know I'm sitting right here, don't ya?"

"Oh, look; dessert's here." The words sound incredibly hollow coming out of my mouth. I just want to eat in peace. The food's not great enough to warrant enjoying it per say, but it's at least edible.

Luke immediately digs into his dessert, offering some to MC in the process.

"Yo, Luke, gimme a bite of that dessert of yours!"

"Eww, no! Why should I give you any of my dessert?!"

"There ya go, actin' like a brat again. Like, take it easy. It's just dessert."

"Look who's talking! You're the one who's insisting on having part of someone else's dessert. That's way more childish!"

I'm getting a headache. This isn't good. It always starts with a headache. Maybe if I can sneak away and decompress--

I feel something grab my hand and squeeze it. Glancing underneath the table reveals it to be MC's hand, although you'd never tell by the look on their face that that's what they did.

I appreciate them trying to comfort me. I really do. This isn't the sort of thing I want them brought into, though. As it is, I've already revealed too much to them about it.

"We'll flip a coin. If I win, I get your dessert."

"No thanks. I don't even want your dessert."

"What, afraid you're gonna lose, are ya? Luke the loser is scared, is that it?"

Tight muscles. That's phase two. Phase three is the internal screaming.

Except everything feels more intense this time. Yes, I'm upset at Mammon for bullying Luke for no apparent reason, but it shouldn't be enough for me to feel like chewing his head off. Besides, I'm usually able to calm down before it gets this far, and yet none of my techniques are working.

"That's impossible! You cheated, didn't you?!"

Another squeeze.

The hand.

"MC, let go," I hiss.

"I can't." I try to myself, but I fail as well. "I'm sorry, Simeon."

I feel bad. I really do. Everyone in this dining car is about to see a nasty side to me. The only thing I can do is hope that no one gets hurt.

"You're Michael's little puppy. You sit in his lap and sniff him and snuggle up against him all day long, doncha?"

There it is. The final straw that broke the camel's back.

"That's enough!" I snarl. Instantly, all eyes are on our table. I'm sure a few other cars heard me as well. I can get rather loud when I'm in this state.

Dinner's officially over.

[emeraldelysium]

starting part 5 on this snowy morning :)

[messrmoonyy]

can I have something really sweet and fluffy messr? Maybe waking up with Tess and having cuddles? Maybe it could be pre apocalypse, no badness at all. I don’t care if it’s short or anything I just really need some fluffiness with Tess 🥺🥺🥺

Doctors orders

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

A/N- a few of you sent asks this week saying you wanted something fluffy as fuck so here you have it. I hope this cures any and all things you might be going through rn. Take a break. Come take a read and snuggle with Tess. You deserve it. Also look at how mesmerising that gif is my god she’s so beautiful. I’ll probably still post on Monday/Tuesday like normal I just wanted to drop this now cause it’s short and sweet ||| there is no readmore cut in this as everytime I included one it chopped off the bottom three paragraphs.

Warnings: none // pre apocalypse au.

Word count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated <3

You woke up to the sun shining across your face, peaking through a crack in the curtains and drowning you in early morning light. You twisted away from the curtains with a small groan, rolling over and reaching out for Tess. Only for your hand to find empty space instead.

Your sleepy eyes opened, handing patting the empty space as if she might somehow materialise back onto the sheets. Remnants of her warmth lingered in the cotton so should couldn’t have been gone long. You pressed your face against her pillow, comforted by the familiar scent of her and letting it ease you into a better sense of awareness.

Before you could call out for her, or get up and have a wander around the house to see where she’d gotten to, the bedroom door opened and she re appeared, climbing carefully back into bed again

“ sorry baby did I wake you? “ she asked as she opened her arms to you, letting you curl up against her chest.

“ it’s fine you didn’t “ you mumbled, pressing your face against her neck and sighing. You loved mornings like that. When you could just… exist together. Quiet and calm and warm.

Especially when the world outside seemed so… on edge lately. Rumours and fake news, scaremongering people about something or other. Wars in one country and famine in another. But in your house, your space, you could pretend the world was at peace.

“ don’t get too comfy. I have to get up and get ready for work soon “ you groaned in annoyance and it drew a small laugh from her, pressing a kiss to your head “ unfortunately not all of us have the week off “ you’d both booked the week out from work, needing to use up vacation days and hoping to spend the week alone together. You’d even discussed possibly going away for the weekend.

That was until Tess had come home last week to tell you she had to cover the week instead, one of her colleagues having had her baby or some shit like that. You’d known she had had the news the second she’d walked through the door with flowers to soften the blow.

You only got flowers on special occasions or when she’d pissed you off too much and needed to sweeten you up again. You knew it wasn’t her fault. But it was still annoying.

“ fucking Carla and her fucking baby “ you grumbled, tightening your grip on your girlfriend in some hopes it would make her stay, tangling your legs up with hers. She laughed in the way that always pulled a smile onto your face, light and melodic in a way that didn’t feel like it belonged to her.

“ yeah fuck Carla for getting pregnant huh? “

“ fuck em “ she shook her head, still laughing and ran a hand through your hair.

“ they’ll be plenty of other times we can spend the day together “ You sighed and shifted onto your back, looking up at the ceiling “ don’t get grumpy “

“ M’not grumpy “

“ yeah well tell you’re fuckin face that then “ she said with a smile, turning on her side to look at you, brushing your hair away from your face “ I can try get away early. We’ll go out for dinner or something, how’s that? “ you pondered on it for a while. Dinner would be nice. You hadn’t had an excuse to get all dressed up for a while. But it wasn’t enough. Four days worth of moping around the house bored because you didn’t have to work and she did, was finally coming to a head.

“ or you could just not go in at all “

“ baby-“

“ my god I think you’re sick “ you said with a dramatic voice, pressing the back of your hand to her forehead suddenly. You shifted to sit up more and pulled your best despair filled expression “ fuck. Yep. Burning up. Maybe it’s a fever “ she gave you a confused look, a smile pulling at her lips as she watched you “ I think you could even be contagious. I think for the benefit of your colleagues you need to stay home. It’d be pretty selfish to go and make them sick too wouldnt it? Oh no. What a shame. You’re just gonna have to stay home with me all day “

“ oh I’m sick? “ the smile on her face was the only real contagious thing about her, making it extremely difficult to force away your own.

“ so sick. I mean look at you, throwing up all over the fuckin place! Temperature. Got the chills. Man. You are just… you’re so sick. I think you should call in right now “

“ you are absolutely mental. Did you know that? “

“ fuck are you hallucinating now too? You’re worse than I thought “

“ that is possible for saying you’re being a fuckin head case right now. What have you been smoking? “ you rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest.

“ you have to stay home and be tended too by your wonderful, delightful, caring girlfriend “ you said, jutting your chin up with some air of superiority. Her hands reached out for you, tugging you back down onto her chest.

“ it’s sweet that you want me to stay. But I have to go to work “ you sighed and she brushed the backs of her fingers against your cheek, some gentle way of trying to ease the frown etched into your face “ cheer up “ she slid her hand round to the back of your head, pulling you in to kiss her. Knowing full well it would eliminate your frown immediately.

Which of course it did.

You’d long ago decided that it was physically impossible to be anything but overcome with immense joy when she was kissing you. Before her you’d not thought much of kissing, maybe because none of your exes had been particularly good at it. But she was. Fuck she was.

The gentle way in which she could command control with the soft press of her fingers, the way her lips seemed as though were made to kiss no one else but you. As ridiculously cheesy as it sounded, you were quite convinced they were made just for you. No one else on planet earth could make you feel the way she could.

“ that’s better “ she said softly against your lips, kissing you once more before pulling away “ see you crazy ass. I’m fine “ you shook your head, half lidded eyes falling closed again as you brushed your lips over hers.

“ still seem sick to me “ you whispered, kissing her again hoping to simply just distract her enough that by some miracle she might forget that she had to leave. Of course it wouldn’t work but at least you were giving yourself more reasons to kiss her.

“ a nurse now are you? “ she asked in between your kisses, a hand sliding up your back in a way that told you that your ridiculous plan might actually be working.

It was true that if anyone could make her do something it was you. Joel always joked that you two were joined at the hip, simply following the other around no matter what they did. Two lovesick puppies still stuck in the honeymoon phase even though you’d been together for years. And it was true for the most part. You were inseparable. The honeymoon phase probably was still in full effect. You had your ups and downs, but the ups were more frequent. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“ actually I am medically trained to the highest

“ well. If it’s doctors orders who am I to argue “ she said with a grin, hands soothing up and down your thighs. You reached over to the side table and grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts and clicking the number of her boss and handing her the phone

“ doctors. Orders “

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

A Hand for the King

Pairing: Viserys I Targaryen x Otto Hightower Warnings: Crack fic, coercion, slight dubcon, handjob. Word count: ~1.1k

Summary: Viserys requires some convincing to send aid to the Stepstones.

Author's note: A request from my boo-bear @em-writes-stuff-sometimes - she wanted Vizzy on Otto action, so that is what I have delivered. This is a crack fic - please don't read if you are easily offended. Community labels are for cops. Technically, Lyonel Strong would have been Hand of the King during the time period that this covers, but this is a crack fic and this is my house, so I'll do what I want. I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Your Grace, Vaemond Velaryon calls for aid,” Tyland Lannister places his palms flat against the Small Council table, as he looks at King Viserys, “the war in the Stepstones against the Triarchy is not going well, and Velaryon supplies are running dangerously low.”

Viserys lets out a slow exhale, coupled with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Corlys and Daemon started this war against my wishes, why should I send aid?”

“Your Grace–”

Otto raises a hand, silencing the Master of Ships. “Thank you for your counsel, Lord Lannister. The King and I will discuss this matter privately. You will have word on what action the Crown has chosen to take in due course.”

Tyland releases a frustrated sigh, but nods before rising from his seat and filing out of the Council chamber alongside the rest of the attendees. Only Otto and Viserys remain, seated side by side at the head of the table.

Sparing a sideways glance at Viserys, Otto feels himself withering inside. The King looks so proud of himself, chest puffed out and a faint smile upon his lips. Yet his vacant eyes denote a man who is utterly clueless to what goes on around him. 

Otto wagers to himself that if he were to crack open the old fool’s skull and look inside he’d find a court jester cartwheeling around the empty expanse of it, such is the idiocy with which he chooses to rule.

He thinks he proffers peace, but he will be the ruin of us all.

A gentle touch is needed here, lead him to it, let him think it’s his own idea, try to avoid doing that. He shudders at the thought.

“Your Grace,” Otto begins, turning slightly in his seat, “might I offer my thoughts regarding the unrest in the Stepstones?”

“By all means,” Viserys responds with a smile and a bow of his head.

“Your brother and the Velaryons have been at this for three years now, might it be an idea to put an end to it? There can be no peace while war rages on, no matter whose fight it is.”

Viserys rubs at his brow, looking weary. “It is the responsibility of the Velaryons to keep their shipping lanes clear, and it is Daemon’s folly to involve himself in another’s battle in a misguided attempt at achieving glory.”

Seven hells. Has the rot spread to his mind too?

“A fair point, Your Grace,” Otto reasons, “But Prince Craghas Drahar…Crabfeeder…whatever they are calling him, simply cannot be allowed to do as he pleases. Eventually, the Velaryons’ inability to trade is going to affect the entire realm. It is in the best interests of the Crown to take action.”

Viserys hums thoughtfully, clasping his hands in front of him. “A most compelling argument. I shall need to ponder on it a moment. Would you care to help me?”

Dread and revulsion swirl in Otto’s gut. “Viserys, please…”

“Oh come now, Otto,” Viserys fixes him with a knowing look, his hands moving to unlace his breeches, “you know this helps me do my best thinking.”

Otto grimaces as Viserys works to free himself. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, and yet somehow it always does. He had no idea when he’d been awarded the position of Hand of the King that it would be a title that would be quite so literal.

Every time the King is required to make a difficult decision, to be made to see reason, Otto’s skills as Hand are put to vigorous good use, and it is not his powers of persuasion that work to do this.

In his years of servitude Otto has stroked Viserys to relief on numerous occasions. The most notable occurrences were to convince him to remove Daemon from office as Master of Coin, again to strip him of his title as Master of Laws, and to sway Viserys to choose his daughter, Alicent, as his wife when Aemma had died in childbirth.

He sits with sick disbelief at the thought that the same palm that has aided in knocking down The Rogue Prince will now play a part in lifting him up. Otto cringes at the thought of Daemon’s reaction were he ever to find out what has happened in order for his brother to agree to help him win this war. It is an effort that would be unappreciated, but would certainly earn a mocking laugh.

Sending up a silent prayer that word of what he’s about to do never goes beyond the four walls they currently occupy, he reaches out gingerly, doing his best not to look directly at it.

For the good of the Seven Kingdoms.

Viserys’ turgid member is warm against Otto’s fingers as he wraps them around it, and he swallows down the bile that rises in his throat, as he begins to stroke up and down the shaft.

Ripples of disgust roll from his chest to his stomach as he focuses on keeping his breathing steady through his nostrils, ignoring the way that the King’s foreskin shifts within his grasp.

He keeps his thoughts on the resources that they will have shipped to the Stepstones, blocking out the sounds of Viserys’ satisfied sighs and quiet groans.

Otto has been Hand of the King for Viserys ever since he was crowned. He has seen the rot spread, watched him deteriorate slowly. He wonders if a time will come when he might tug so hard at his cock that it will separate from his body entirely. It’s a gruesome thought, but would at least put an end to this torment.

He speeds up his movements, eager to get this over with and is relieved when he feels Viserys tense, bucking his hips slightly as he spills his seed with a grunt.

Otto pulls his hand back, regarding the spend that now coats his fingers with abject disgust.

Viserys offers him a pleased smile, tucking himself away. “You may inform Tyland that Vaemond will have the aid that he requests.”

Otto nods, pressing his lips into a tight line before speaking. “Very good, Your Grace. If I might be permitted to wash my hands first?”

When Otto later learns that Daemon has rushed to defeat the Crabfeeder single handedly, after receiving news of the help that would be sent, and has been crowned King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, he wishes he hadn't washed his hand. There’s nothing he wants more than to have had the opportunity to wipe it upon his foolish, smug face.

A hand for the King, that has been for naught.

[kakashiislut]

Hey hey hey! Saw you wrote god of war stuff and came a running! I’d love to see Sindri, heimdall or Tyr (which ever you feel best at writing for) with a tall gaint reader. Sindri is just happy she likes him, heimdall is very upset he’s much shorter than her, Tyr just likes to look her in the eyes without breaking his neck.

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Tall girl *starts foaming at mouth* I love em tall and thick. And thick. Did I say tall and thick? Cause I love em like that. Both men and women. So thick and tall. Plzs give me to me. Plzs. Plzs.

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Warnings: Mostly fluff, like 99% fluff and 1% Nsfw, I love Sindri. He cute. Heimdall is mad all the time, Tyr is peaceful. Fem!reader, No proof read.

Authors Note: HEY IM DOING ALL OF EM! I Love em all and im excited to Write for Sindri the mostest. 😝🫘

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GiantFem!Reader W/ Sindri, Heimdall and Tyr!

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Sindri

“This is my boy”

You say very proudly with sindri perched on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around his legs to make sure he doesn’t fall.

He doesn’t care about the massive height difference, so happy that you love him. That’s all that matters.

“Baby, I cleaned myself, can we cuddle now?”

He gets so happy when he knows you’re super clean.

He doesn’t like holding your hand at first, he needs to be comfortable enough to be able to have flesh against his.

He’s a master at giving head.

There i said it.

He actually thinks he looks cute next to you, especially when he has to look up at you.

Will comfort you when you’re sometime insecure about how tall you are. Your head often bangs against stuff.

Taller then Kratos. Easily.

Brok teased him so much Sindri for once felt like fighting.

He smiles so hard when you find it amusing when he pulls random stuff out of his bag.

He often tries to put you in his bag.

I’m serious, he’s asked a couple of times.

Says you’re so cute he always wants you on hand to stare at.

Heimdall

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not even that tall”

He says, face full of embarrassment.

Absolutely hates it, he hates that you’re so much taller and stronger…and hotter and sexier then him.

He totally hates it so much.

He finds it good…good cause he can stare up at your tits as they hang above his face.

He gets so pissed off when you pat his head. Like so mad you might have to apologize later.

Of course you do it again. And again…and maybe once more. x2.

Finds it so sexy when you show off your legs, thinks that giants are actually so hot.

It’s bad at first, he needs to hide you and he physically fights himself a lot. You would often see him with his hair messed up and a scratched face.

At first you’re confused. Why is he hurting himself? He thought it was some sort of giant magic that made him fall in love with you. Odin hates giants. That’s why he hates them. But no…you’re so…you’re so good to him.

Constant battle with himself because he doesn’t wanna betray Odin…but it’s just love…how could love betray the all father?

Sneaks out to see you. Of course that’s a little hard so you might have to disguise yourself if you do Magic and come see him.

Tyr

“My neck doesn’t hurt when I stare into your eyes”

He’s so happy, he found a giant who has lots of interest in him.

You’re Just his height, maybe even a little taller on a good day.

“I love your eyes, so pretty”

You often compliment him and he can’t even hide his face, ‘cause you’re his height!!!

Becomes so happy when you offer him a bed in HIS size.

You guys snuggle with over sized blankets you made.

Every-time he’s over your place, he gets so happy. Everything is for giants. He never needs to struggle with anything small ever again with you.

Can fuck you properly.

Ya I said that.

He can do your hair without needing to hunch over and break his back.

You guys often train together and he gets so happy when he sees you pull off a move he does.

It always ends with you guys on top of each other, laughing about him beating you all the time.

He’s the god of war, come on! You’re gonna have to break more then a sweat to beat him.

He likes when you sit on his lap, but sometimes forgets you’re so tall when you get off.

Gets so genuinely confused and he just goes

“AH- oh wait nvm”

Gets so protective when someone stares at you wrong, he knows the Aesir hate giants, he can’t lose you.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

re: Why the Coppernob/Cornwall war

thanks to @houseboatisland for helping me punch up the insult a bit ;) been carryin' my ass all day, actually —

To a large extent they just have just been instilled with different value systems. So they're constantly judging each other.

Could they have left all this behind when they both separately embarked on their preservation years? I mean I guess but that’d be boring for them both. Let ‘em hang on to what little they have left from those days. Also, there was An Incident that cemented Coppernob’s enmity, justifying it retroactively… and for the next couple hundred years… 

Scene: 1898. F.R. 3 and 4 are making their final preparations, preparing to be dismantled for the last time in the coming winter. 4 has the bright idea to write to Cornwall. Apologize for their part in the old quarrel. Wish him and his well in the years ahead.

It should be noted 3 was against this idea from the start. But 4 was feelin’ chipper with a warm sense of good-fellowship peace-on-earth-goodwill-to-man, so he went right on ahead with the project.

3: He'll never reply.

4: He doesn't have to reply. The letter says so.

3:  Well... don't put my name on it!

4 and 4's driver: *ignore him. 3's name is signed to this bullshit too.*

To everyone's surprise, they do get a reply. Aaaand it's basically 'lol get scrapped losers. couldn’t even remember who you were till cousin columbine reminded me of the two grubby little humpback radishes i used to leave in my dust. anyway lmao imma live forever bitch. hope hell's hot enough for ya… probably gonna be a big step up from barrow tbh.' Bonus: insults their long-dead sisters.

4: .... bit harsh, that

3: I told you! I told you!!

Of course in the end 3 is also preserved and now he can carry the memory of the time Cornwall basically spat in the face of all three of his dead siblings until the end of time.

***

But. 

I'm gonna be honest, I suspect Cornwall doesn't know the letter was sent. Like his attitude was "oh fuck them" and then he and his closest mates had a roaring session where they all tried to out-do each other on what Cornwall should write back but he has no idea some officious Company-proud shed employee dutifully wrote down all the roasts and sent the result back off to Barrow. Cornwall fully disliked the Copper-Nobs, and he is a jerk, but, like. He's not evil. If the engineman-turned-scribe had had the sense to confirm the letter he wrote up on his behalf Cornwall would undoubtedly have been like 'oh lmao no just rip it up.'

Which makes it all the funnier to me, ngl. Coppernob hates Cornwall intensely because he knows what a foul rat he secretly is. Cornwall thinks Coppernob is carrying a new degree of grudge because he didn't write back with kum-bye-ya we're-all-pals-now and scoffs at it. Other engines have picked up on the dark hints they've both thrown out about this incident and have had difficulty assembling them into a coherent narrative, for obvious reasons. It's a mess. If tomorrow they realized they were at cross purposes and Coppernob quoted that letter-he-totally-hasn’t-memorized Cornwall would be like 'WHAAAAT i never wrote that' and Coppernob would fuckin' die of humiliation when he learned Cornwall thought he'd been in a strop for a hundred twenty five years only because Cornwall left his apology on read and now his widdle fweelings were hurt. 'I'd never have given a fuck if there'd been no reply!! I never even wanted Four to send that stupid letter!!!!' 'real shit? haha that actually does make more sense lol your brother was such a loser — '

Aaaaaand I guess that'd be the beginning of the third phase of the endless grudge.

So maybe it’s inevitable. They gotta despise each other. It’s fate. 

[britany1997]

Paul and Fishy: Jokes On You

A little surprise April Fools day fic with everyone’s favorite besties🥰

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Dwayne sat on the lip of the fountain while he waited for Marko and David. His arms were crossed, his brow furrowed, and his lips twisted downward.

As Marko walked into the main alcove of the cave, he didn’t look much happier.

“What’s up?” he asked, “why’d you call a meeting, and why couldn’t we tell Paul?”

Dwayne’s frown grew, “take a wild guess,” he grumbled.

Marko rolled his eyes, “you too huh?” he shook his head, “he’s out of control.”

Dwayne grit his teeth, “he welded training wheels onto my motorcycle,” he spit, “it was hell to get ‘em off”

Marko scoffed, “you think that’s bad? He replaced my swim trunks with the kind that dissolve when they get wet.”

Dwayne’s eyes widened.

“We were tailing these girls at the beach, chattin’ ‘em up you know? So we could eat right?”

Dwayne nodded as Marko continued.

“Well they wanna go in the water so I say sure, because I’m fucking starving, next thing I know I’m naked from the waist down,”

Dwayne groaned, “he needs to be stopped.”

Marko nodded in agreement before his jaw dropped at the sight of David strolling into the living room, his hair neon green.

Dwayne mirrored Marko’s shocked expression.

“Not. A. Word.” David grit.

Marko growled, “this is ridiculous! We have to do something! We can’t just stand by and let him terrorize us!”

Dwayne stroked his chin thoughtfully, I think I know someone who can help us out.

Paul woke up late in the evening and began to flit around his room. He grabbed a bottle of shaving crème, bright pink hair dye, and motor oil as his lips morphed into a devious smile.

The boys’ greatest nightmare had become his new hobby, and he couldn’t wait to unleash everything he had planned.

He moved to salute Fishy and head out his door, but what he saw in Fishy’s bowl made him stop in his tracks.

The little goldfish usually floating in his glass bowl had seemingly transformed into a measly goldfish cracker.

Paul’s jaw dropped and he rushed over to Fishy’s bowl. “Fishy?! Fishy! Talk to me!”

Fishy the goldfish cracker rested on the rocks at the bottom of the fish bowl, not moving or responding to Paul’s questions.

Tears gathered in the corners of Paul’s eyes, but he held them back. He had to be strong for his friend.

“We need to figure out what’s happened,” he decided, “don’t worry bud, I’ll fix this, I promise.”

Fishy returned Paul’s concern with silence.

Paul’s heart clenched in his chest, but he swallowed his fear to try and save his friend.

“The only thing that I think could have done this is a spell! Someone must have hexed you Fishy!”Paul exclaimed, “unfortunately I’ve pissed off a few witches in my eternal life,” he shook his head, “they just get too clingy you know?”

The goldfish cracker didn’t respond.

Paul’s eyes grew wide, “we better hurry,” he said as he gathered Fishy’s bowl in his arms.

Paul ran to Dwayne’s alcove, Fishy in tow.

“Dwayne,” Paul whispered as his head whipped around for the brunette vampire, who appeared to be nowhere in sight.

“Perfect,” Paul said as he sped to Dwayne’s bookshelves.

He set Fishy’s bowl down next to him, “if anyone’s gonna have the book to fix this, it’s Dwayne,” Paul explained, “that man has more books then the Santa Carla library!”

Paul scoured Dwayne’s shelves, reading aloud to himself, “let’s see, Pride and Prejudice? no. As I Lay Dying? no. War and Peace?” Paul scoffed, “nerdy much Dwayne?

He kept looking, “Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals? Non-fiction! Now we’re getting somewhere.” Paul whispered to himself.

Paul searched through books on history, philosophy, and political thought before finally finding the books he needed.

He pulled out all of Dwayne’s books on witchcraft and wizardry, until they formed a mountainous pile on the floor of Dwayne’s room.

Paul breathed out, intimidated by the thick stack of books. But as he turned back to look at his friend, he knew what he had to do.

Hours passed as Paul thumbed through the spell books. As he came to the last couple of texts in the stack, his resolution had begun to wear thin.

Paul gasped holding the last book in the pile, “reversing hexes to third parties!” He cried as his face snapped to look to Fishy.

As Paul read his excitement vanished, “no, no, no! These are all to reverse hexes on people! It doesn’t say anything about Fish! No!” Paul yelled as he threw the book in frustration.

Paul placed his hands on his hips and sighed, “I’m getting nowhere, I’m gonna have to ask the boys to help.”

Paul sighed and picked up Fishy bowl as he walked into the main alcove of the cave dejectedly.

To Paul’s surprise, the other three boys were sat waiting for him around the fountain.

Paul’s mouth gasped when he saw the plastic cup containing his goldfish best friend.

“What?” he gasped in disbelief, “WHAT?!”

David crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrow.

“Fishy you’re ok!” Paul exclaimed, tears of joy rolling down his cheeks, “ah this is such a relief,”

“Wait,” he started, “if this isn’t Fishy…who’s this??” Paul asked holding up the fishbowl.

Marko shot him a look of disbelief, “are you serious? It’s just a goldfish cracker Paul.”

Paul gasped as he pulled the cracker out of the bowl and tossed it away.

Dwayne moved forward to pour Fishy from the plastic cup into the fishbowl. Once Fishy was back in his bowl and tucked into Paul’s arms again, Paul breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What’s wrong with you guys?!” Paul asked exasperated as he shot the other vampires a nasty look.

“It was a prank,” David said as he ran a hand through his neon green hair.

Paul scoffed, “well it wasn’t funny,”

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “it wasn’t was it?”

“It wasn’t!” Paul agreed, “I was freaking out! I spent all night trying to find a cure!”

“Not too fun being pranked,” Marko piped up as he shot Paul a knowing look, “is it?”

Paul cringed, “no…I guess not,” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down, “I’m really sorry guys. I’ve been goin’ too far lately.”

Marko sighed, “we forgive you dude, you know we love you.”

Paul smiled softly, “I love you guys too,” he assured them.

The other three vampires smiled and returned to their rooms, leaving Paul and Fishy alone in the lobby.

Paul peered down into Fishy bowl, “traitor,” he whispered.

Fishy shook his fin and swam in a circle.

Paul’s lip turned up into a half smile, “I get it bud, I was totally out of control, I want to be the best me I can be too.”

Fishy blinked three times.

Paul beamed and hugged Fishy’s bowl, “thanks bud, you’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

“PAUL!”

Paul cringed as he heard his name echo through the halls of the cave in Dwayne’s booming voice.

Paul turned to Fishy, “I guess he saw all his books.”

He picked up Fishy bowl and raced to the ladder, “c’mon Fishy, I’ll start being the best me possible tomorrow.”

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Taglist❤️:

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[madschiavelique]

I actually read your initial post and I just knewwww that particular scene had inspired you😂😂 idk I just had that hunch for some reason (its been a while since i last watched it but doesn’t he also flip her and then slowly move the knife she has on his neck to hers instead bc 😱😱😱😱😱 im sorry I have issues)

I hope you’ll stay inspired to write it, it’s such a sexy trope tbh 🤌🏻🤌🏻😮‍💨 its peak forced proximity imo, bc despite the fact she’s a slave he isn’t exactly a free man to deny her. bonus points if there’s corruption involved bc I’m also soo weak for the “evil warlord/soldier takes the fair temple maiden as a slave but they fall in love along the way” 😩

(and while your prompt differs from these takes i just wanted to share them for shits and giggles, so consider these: 1.) I also live for the idea that the maiden in question is revealed to be the princess of the country that invaded and killed miguels ppl. The king’s daughter joined the temple anonymously bc she wanted to serve a purpose and ideals she stood for and not just live the life of a royal completely removed from the real world. Only the king knows of this and though their views differ he’s ok w it bc he wants to keep her safe from his enemies and her being a sworn maiden in the temple provides just that, but during the siege the temple gets raided anyway and she’s taken as a slave (as i write this i realise this is literally the story of the slave girl from troy lmao anywayyyy) and when miguel discovers this he takes her as his personal slave😈 win win, he was already planning on claiming the most beautiful one for himself, but she’s the daughter of the man he hates most as well??? Oh justice is gonna get served😈😈

orrrr take two, the king gives away his daughter as a way to save his own ass (but then again this is a different scenario) and miguel takes her as his wife, kills the king anyway and the daughter is distraught bc now she has to live her life as a slave to her father’s killer, not knowing that her father was responsible for the death of said man’s family in the first place. And of course he doesn’t tell her a thing about himself or his past at first bc my man is emotionally constipated af and only comes to her for fulfilling his marital duties and boy does he fill em🥴)

anyway wowww brainrot!!!!

YESSSS forced proximity omfg i love this

AND YES indeed he is not that much of a free man either in this situation

OKAY THE FIRST PROMPT IS DELICIOUS AND I THOUGHT OF DOING THIS INDEED but i had another thought for this : the king is really a huge bastard, and miguel doesn't appreciate much of what he does. he only wants revenge, and he is getting it in his blind hatred for other kingdoms.

but see the thing is (plot twist) the flag he saw in his village was put there by his king himself. why you might ask ? well because if many villages of his own kingdom start getting attacked by "another" kingdom then this is a sufficient motive to create a war, and that's all he wants. so he deliberately set fire to some villages in his own country and planted there the flag of the kingdom he wanted to attack to convince the population that other kingdoms were threats.

and when miguel learns that, he'll kill the king, and will escape with the reader to live a life of peace

i also kinda prefer the fact that reader is just a nobody kinda, like- she doesn't need to be of royalty to be considered as something precious

BUT YEA REAL GOOD STUFF NONNY AND YEA BRAIN ROT IS ROTTING GOOD

[madmanrambler]

“So walk me through everything I missed. It seems like it was a lot.”

“What, Everything? It’s 85 bloody years, there’s a lot to cover. And me without a degree in history.”

“Alright then, summarize. I can research whatever you mention that seems particularly interesting.”

I shifted to better watch Corv as he spoke, listening through ears that still felt chilly from 85 years frozen. Corv, one of my rescuers, shifted in his own spot, his diminutive form finding a comfortable seat. He glanced at me before starting in to the history.

“Let’s see, you went under in the 2020s you said, right? So you at least have an idea that climate change was getting bad. That was most of the 30′s and 40′s, handling that in various ways. Mostly bad ways. Lotta border skirmishes, plenty of fighting and arguing about bits of this and that. Big cold war between Canada and China about shipping lanes that opened up in the Artic, which was a miserable bloody time.” this at least all made sense, and I was nodding along.

“in the 50s things came to a bit of a head. Most of the ice that was going to melt melted, and the weather patterns were stabilizing. the countries and people left were figuring out how to handle the Sahara being able to grow plants and the American Midwest becoming a desert. We got some peace makers out of South America, and you’ll probably find some interestin’ stuff about indonesia and how its government in exile set an example for island nations and how to handle the shift in tides. Always found some of that stuff fascinating, you can look up Melati Hon and her speeches on the new world, great stuff.” Corv seemed excited about that part, really animated and I could see his eyes gleaming. Really might be something worth reading, and seeing what I thought afterwards. He reluctantly plowed on. “the 60s people kinda lost their mind, great art from the period but a lot of folks were recovering from being kids during the greatest ecological disaster. The 70s there’s big move of standardizing everything, making sure that plugs fit all over the world and all the measuring equipment can measure the same. Parts of America still insist on using standard but that’s more a local custom then a nation-wide standard at this point. the 80′s had a lot of discussion about the moon base, I think there was a big scare around a country grabbing it for themselves and a space war or something erupting over that, it was agreed to be a joint venture with every nation able to send people up, averted a lot of problems. The 90s are close enough I can remember ‘em, and there’s a ton you could focus on but overall it’s all about how to handle us living with these new batteries we’ve got, the Phazolyte batteries.”  This wasn’t exactly what I wanted to focus on, but Corv seemed to think it was important so I nodded and tossed in what I knew. “They’re batteries that mix with water to charge right?”

He coughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I guess that’d be the second grader explanation. They mix phazolyte with water, and phazolyte causes water to be willing to compress as much as you push it, something it doesn’t want to do at all normally. S’why jumping off a bridge into water is like hitting concrete, all the force rebounds back into your body. With Phazolyte we get to store as much energy as we can compress into the water, then you just remove the Phazolyte and the water uncompresses, pushes against something, makes the electricity. And the Phazolyte, once removed, is good to use again, doesn’t lose anything in the process. It’s dead useful, and the last 15 years has been plugging that into everything and getting the supply chain worked out.” Corv coughed again, and glanced around. “That should cover the basics. Sorry we don’t have flying cars or nothing like that, I know you folks were keen on that.”

I stared at Corv for a long while. “Corv, that’s great. I’m glad you covered all the uh. The battery stuff. But.” I hesitated, glancing from him to the window to the chair he was sitting in. “You uh. Skipped the part about you.” Corv shifted in his seat again, glancing away from me. “Well it really isn’t all that important, it’s just part of the world really. I’m a British citizen, we still say god save the queen, we keep playing football-” “That seems like it’d be a bit hard for you to play.” I interrupt, glancing at how small Corv was. “I mean, Corv, you didn’t mention a damn thing about when birds started talking.” Corv looked what I thought was askance. “Well you did ask me to summarize.” He reminded me as his beak preened his feathers. “If I summarize I gotta skip the things that are less important. That’s how summarizing history goes.”