#he would be a great advisor to Hawke as well

[thatwavephenomenon]

The concept of Inquisitor Anders (and Justice) is so special to me actually. Everyone agree that everything the "regular" Inquisitor goes through/accomplishes is already mind-blowing. But for Anders to be the Inquisitor? The stakes would be even more impossible.

Anders thought he was going to die for what he had done, but Hawke spared him. After that he has to go on with no plan whatsoever, as best as he can while on the run as one of the most wanted man in Thedas. The only thing that is clear to him is that he has to keep helping the mage rebellion until he is either caught and killed, or until his Calling. All he has is borrowed time. So even as a fugitive, Anders' story is likely already written and over.

And then the Conclave happens, and Anders not only has his eyes glow blue sometimes, but he now has an occasionally green glowy hand as well.

So here he is, Anders the apostate, Anders the Kirkwall Chantry criminal, who has nothing but with *everything* to prove.

Remember. This is the man that gave everything that he had, everything he was to his cause. He fought for *years* in Kirkwall with his clinic, his manifesto, with the Mages Underground and still things worsened, with barely anyone listening to him until he blew the Chantry up. And now he has to convince everyone that he isn't responsible for the explosion at the Conclave? Right, as if his track record would permit that. How could he possibly be able to close the breach in the sky when he was the one who started the war between the templars and the mages in the first place?

The regular Inquisitor already has trouble proving themselves trustworthy at the beginning of DAI, so imagine it now with Anders. People would literally be out for blood. The Chantry would not only discredit the Inquisition as heretics, it would call for his immediate dissolution/destruction. Anders would also try to help all the refugees just like before in Kirkwall, while being the very reason these people lost so much in the first place this time.

Now on to the advisors and companions. How would Leliana, who also walk the path of violence for her cause, who is pro-mages but also had great faith in Justinia, interact with Anders? Even if Cullen has left the templars, could he and Anders even manage to cooperate after everything? Especially considering that Cullen was Meredith's second and the one who dismantled Anders' Mages Underground? How would Josephine and Anders work together to promote their cause, with how Anders must regard nobility after living in Darktown for years or after watching Kirkwall nobles interact with Hawke?

After investigating what happened in Kirkwall, Cassandra would probably be more than wary of Anders. But at the same time in DAI she is among the first ones to believe that the character must be the Herald of Andraste. I imagine that Cassandra would be particularly conflicted on how to treat Anders because of this.

Varric. Anders was his friend. Anders is the one who set Kirkwall on fire. For all that they know each other, things would probably still be tense between them at first. Varric also followed Hawke to see him rise from having barely anything to his name to becoming the Champion of Kirkwall. What would he think about Anders, a companion of the initial protagonist (or even protagonists, if you take into account DA Awakening), when he's now taking a path that seems to lead him towards becoming so much more? Especially considering that in DAI Varric struggles with how to perceive the Inquisitor, having to juggle between seeing the character as his friend (if you have a good relationship with him) and seeing them as an icon, the Herald of Andraste.

Anders and Vivienne would absolutely despise each other and their snark matches would be the stuff of legends. The only reason those two could even work together is if they agree that closing the breach takes priority over everything else.

I imagine that Anders, Justice and Solas would have some interesting conversations about spirits and the Fade while also butting heads on a lot of things. Both would be convinced that they are the authority on these subjects. But perhaps they would learn to eventually concede on some things with time.

I think Sera would really like Anders for his continued dedication towards helping people and his insistance to give up what he has for others. Sera's fear of magic and Anders absolute pro-mages stance would definitely cause more than one row between them however. Not to mention Justice. Their relationship would be one of the most interesting there in my opinion.

Blackwall would also be another greatly interesting character to watch interact with Inquisitor Anders. Anders would be able to tell that Blackwall is bullshitting about being a Warden from the get-go, because he was one and can sense the taint. Those two would definitely have some interesting debates on justice (and with Justice), or talks about how to go on and do good after having committed an atrocious crime. Blackwall's admiration for the Grey Wardens versus Anders "Oh yeah, I was a Warden once, then I just quit" attitude would also result in some great banters I'm sure.

Anders would say to Iron Bull that he is very different from all the other Qunaris that were in Kirkwall, though I don't know how that conversation would go. Iron Bull would also definitely be afraid of Justice. I can see him adressing the question/problem of Anders being an "abomination" quite directly, because he is not comfortable with spirits/demons that are capable of taking over someone's mind, and Anders is a living proof of that fear. Despite this, I like to imagine that Justice would actually grow to respect the Iron Bull in some parts after hearing the Chargers' stories about him and seeing how protective of them Iron Bull is.

Despite their different upbringings, I think Dorian would somewhat remind Anders of himself when we was younger/before he merged with Justice. If Hawke isn't a mage, I can imagine Anders' relief and joy about finally being able to talk to someone about magic normally and openly. They would have conversations about Tevinter, politics, etc. In DAI, the Inquisitor can inspire Dorian and support him in his fight to change Tevinter. With Anders as the Inquisitor, this aspiration for social changes could be even more relevant.

Cole and Anders/Justice interactions would be another cool thing to see. Justice would recognize Cole as a spirit of Compassion right away. Despite their differences as spirits, I could see Justice becoming quite protective of Cole and defending him against people like Cassandra or Vivienne, having an unfortonate amount of experience being treated as a "demon" or "abomination". Cole would also try to help Anders with his guilt of course.

Discovering that Corypheus is their enemy would be less of a "oh it's him again/oh okay this is the villain" moment and become a lot more personal, with the worry that Anders could fall under his control if he is not strong enough.

Meeting Hawke once again in Skyhold would be An Event for sure, espeeecially if Hawke and Anders were (are?) in a romance. I'm letting everyone imagine how that would go with their own Hawke here.

And The Choice in the Fade, you know the one, would be even more heart-wrenching. Particularly if the Warden is someone that Anders knows, like Nathaniel Howe or even the Hero of Ferelden/Warden-Commander.

Bonus: Anders could also meet Fenris by chance during a mission to eliminate some Venatori.

Anyways. I really like the idea of Inquisitor Anders, yes.

[itsnothingofinterest]

My Big Dumb PLF Advisor Theory for the War Arc

Alright, I said I’d do it, so here’s my entirely self-indulgent rambling on what I think would be interesting theory post on what I think the unaccounted PLF Advisors, especially the first ranked Advisors we’ve barely seen anything of, will do this arc. Since a few of them have been rising to brief prominence this arc, but strangely only the 2nd ranks. So the League’s top henchmen of established designs must get to do something too right?

Namely, tying into my theory of a My Hero part 2 fuelled by how, among other reasons, this is a really anticlimactic final battle[1]; I think a big play on the Advisors’ part will be a coordinated move to salvage the villains’ operation from AFO’s incompetence and help the League escape this unwinnable conflict & live to be saved another, more dramatic day.

In other words, it’s a revamped prison break-out theory.

The time? Right after the war, since Geten mentions he & Compress have nothing to do until then and I decided to read that in as conspiratorial a way as possible: that they have something planned to do after the battles ends.

With the in mind, what would this salvage operation look like:

Well as said, though many Advisors are unaccounted for in this war, the stars of this theory are the 1st ranked Advisors. Of whom; 1 is imprisoned, 1 was seen with Spinner for a panel before Spider-guy took focus, and the other 5 have not been seen as I’m aware.

Additionally, targets they might be interesting to hit are:

The apparent police station seeming to house the PLF higher ups, assuming Garaki really is in the same place as Compress & Geten.

Whatever location is housing the other ~115,000 PLF soldiers. (If they also have the 10,000 jailbreakers to round us out at a nice even eighth of a million, that'd be great.)

Gunga & UA are both interesting cases in that, the PLF effort definitely needs people here picked up, yet it's very possible those people could do it themselves. Maybe that could be Machia's big roll in proceedings. And of course Shigaraki’s Warp can still come into play.

Need to pick up Spinner, Spider-guy, and maybe any unconvinced heteromorphic protesters from Central (probably bug woman's job).

Skeptic could use a rescue.

And if they wanted to pick up the villains from Kamino, the aquarium, & the stadium, that'd be fine, but there’s not a lot of villains there and we don’t really care about any of them anyways[2]. So, y'know...

That’s the rough priority order anyway; amounting to 7~9 targets if they wanted to be thorough, although there are a few that could get skipped. But is thorough even an option? Unless electric guy can break out of wherever he’s being held himself, aren’t there more targets here than Advisors left active? Well there’s also a ton of unaccounted for 3rd ranks and more 2nd ranks, but I have another idea.

You see: I prank’d ya! I’m also incorporating yet another wild theory of mine that accounts for that. I also think there’s even more unaccounted for, secret Advisors. 

After all, we’ve only got Advisors for 7 of the 9 Lieutenants of the Liberation Front. That’s pretty weird right? Why don’t RD & Trumpet have advisors? They’ve got the same position and roughly as much seniority & experience as Skeptic. Well, I propose they do have advisors, their existence was simply kept from Hawks. A classic big-shonen-villain-group trope I’m sure you’re all familiar with.

But if so, you may wonder, why would they be hidden? Well I’ve got a theory on that too; it’s because they’re the heroes Geten mentioned Compress talking too and getting information from. We know the MLA has hero members, so if a few didn’t go to any meetings for Hawks to spot them at, perhaps their duties keeping them away or perhaps as a back-up plan a la Machia; they might still be active and able to talk with jailed Lieutenants & hit as many locations of interest as they like[3].

It also means an established villain like Compress or Redestro could be behind the operation. And as much as I think an Advisor masterminding this plot would be cool, it could border on “coming out of nowhere” for an unestablished villain to pull this off, so that alternative might be for the best.

So yeah, basic rundown of the salvage operation is pretty simple after all that set-up. I kind of figure the #1 Advisors would all get their own thing to do where they can, make a name for themselves;

As said, Spinner’s bug woman Advisor could rescue him, she is right there after all,

Maybe Skeptic’s could bail him out.

Twice’s Advisor Sanctum (1 of like 3~4 names we’ve got so far so I really hope he’ll get something) could rescue the grunts,

If we do get secret advisors then they might free Geten & Compress,

and Compress’ lightning guy could help from the inside of wherever he’s jailed,

Etc, etc. the details aren’t the biggest thing in the world and they’re hard to pin down anyway with so many skipable targets.

Oh but actually now that I think of it after talking about it above, it’d be really cool if Machia picked up Toga & Dabi after however their final talks with Uraraka & the Todofam go. Assuming his injury in 385 didn’t kill him; it’d be a nice epic roll for him in this arc.

And yeah, that’s the basic idea all laid out at once. Is it hopeful & optimistic given the villain writing we’ve been getting? Maybe. But it also answers a few nagging questions in the background like what Compess heard from the heroes. And besides, I like being hopeful & optimistic with the villains.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1] I don’t want to repeat myself to much but for goodness sake, the heroes basically won back in 343. You could argue AFO had a chance to win alone until 378/379 when he lost control of Tomura, but that’s gone now. AFO would barley have a chance of winning even if he could a) get OFA, b) get it into Tomura, and c) regain control over Tomura; none of which he seems able to do. Everyone else has been on the backfoot since AFO warped them all into a trap. The war is lost. It’s why I changed my theory to have any break-out occur after the war instead of during. The PLF can do naught but escape; like Kamino or Jaku.

[2] Besides Moonfish, they have to pick up Moonfish.

[3] Man I went into a lot of detail to propose that the villains have the skilled man-power to rescue villain forces that probably aren’t worth rescuing. The aquarium, stadium, & Kamino might barely break 100 villains between them tbh. Whelp, guess that’s just what a self-indulgent theory post is like. It’s where the fun comes from.

[balteren]

{Ncuti Gatwa, 30, genderqueer, they/he} We are so glad to see you safe, COURT HISTORIAN PAPANGO RIVOMAHERY OF MADAGASCAR It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are INTELLECTUAL and OBSERVANT enough to handle it. Just don’t let your IDEALISM bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE SELLING THE SENSITIVE INFORMATION YOU FIND.

the basics Name: papango rivomahery  Aliases: ango, rivo  Country: madagascar Gender/Pronouns: genderqueer, they/he Sexual/Romantic Orientation: demisexual, homoromantic Age: 30 Occupation: court historian  Faceclaim: ncuti gatwa Marital Status: single Loyalties: madagascar, but not the ratsifis   Pets: n/a

aesthetics (loose) Inspiration: richard papen (the secret history), madeline mackenzie (big little lies), belize (angels in america) Animal: the madagascar serpent-hawk  Tarot Card: judgement Zodiac: virgo Element: earth

tldr; papango is incredibly pleasant, and is often called a workaholic. outside of official events, they are commonly found in the library, reading, researching, and writing. if not there, they can be found outside in nature- especially near the water. they are confident in the world's ability to be something beautiful, but believes it takes a concerted effort to make it that way.

backstory: They were born in a small village on the Helodranon’ Antongila to two young, loving parents, thrilled to bring a child into the world. They named the boy Rivomahery, owing to the terrible, windy storm that blew through their village the night they came into the world. It was a happy enough childhood, and one surrounded by the wonders of the natural world. A young child that couldn’t get enough of exploring and- more importantly- understanding the world around them. 

It was a short-lived happiness, flattened entirely when the Malagasy army invaded their quiet village one morning, ransacking houses. It was terrifying, but nothing compared to the moment the fires began. Rivo saw it themselves- soldiers instructed to raze the town. Fires blazed, and the child ran down to the water, having lost track of their parents in the earlier chaos. Their parents never came to find them- they had perished in the fire that engulfed the town. They’d later learn the full story- that the king’s advisor, Pascal Rakotson, had gone on the run in an attempt to evade receiving justice, and the king had sent the army out to look for him. The general leading the troops was certain they’d find Pascal in the village, and believed the fires would force him out of whatever house he’d hidden away in. Pascal would later be found on the south eastern side of the island, nearly 600 miles away. 

The child was found a day later by a passing fisherman, sitting patiently, waiting for their parents at the treeline, watching the gentle waves. A Madagascar Serpent-Hawk sat in the tree above them, looking as if it was standing vigil, watching over the child until someone found them. The fisherman asked for their name, but was met with a silent, petrified stare. The child could not speak- and they utter a word wouldn’t for nearly a month. As the fisherman took them to an orphanage a few miles south of their home, he began calling them Papango- the Malagsy word for the hawk that had protected him. The name stuck, and when their ability to speak returned, they kept it, ultimately choosing to take their birth name as a second name. 

Papango was only in the orphanage for two months before they were adopted by old noble couple that had been unable to have children of their own. Life could not have been more different, full of fine things, comfort, luxury. Papango’s adopted father was trusted by the king, and the family name held a great deal of respect throughout Madagascar. 

It was here that Papango was given a private teacher, and they began to thrive. Their intellect was fostered and well-fed by their new family, but they excelled in the study of history. As they grew into a teen, it became an obsession, and they devoured the history books of every nation they could find. It was always a passion- not a job prospect- until they discovered a new history of Madagascar. In it, they saw a brief mention of the atrocities in their village, but was horrified to see them listed as an accident. It was written that the town was engulfed in flames after a torch was dropped, and the high winds that day caused the fire to spread uncontrollably. 

This discovery sparked something great and terrible within Papango. They’d always wanted justice, but they had made peace with the fact they would not ever receive it. Now, they saw a way. It took patience- God, so much patience- but they made their way through university, and after years of building their reputation, they were offered a job in the palace as the court historian. 

now:  They say history is written by the victors- but it’s not. It’s written by people like Papango. With just a few untrue words, the previous historian had entirely erased the history of their village. 

With a combination of their stellar professional reputation and the trust their family had garnered amongst the court, Papango was given nearly unfettered access to the Royal Archives, the Royal Library, and the ins and outs of the royal court. It was their job to record the present for future generations- and with that, they became privy to a great deal of sensitive information. Information they could sell to Madagascar’s enemies. 

For now, their goal is not to take down the family- though they wouldn’t be that torn up about it if it happened. Rather, they want to stop the ever increasing rise of Madagascar’s influence and power around the world. Papango has not forgiven the king, or his general, for the horrors they experienced, or for the efforts to cover it up. 

[forwithinthishollowcrown]

I got super inspired by @fromtheboundlesssea's idea of Aegon taking wives from Westeros to better connect the Kingdoms after taking them over and so decided to add my own twist to it. But anyways here we go!

Aegon I Targaryen (27)

Aegon is a rather cold individual, with his only true friend being his bastard half-brother Ory Baratheon. Whilst a great warrior he only views it as a necessity, he takes dislikes violence being seen as entertainment and rarely participates in tourneys. Although he had originally wished to remain faithful to his sister-wives, he understood the stability his reign would achieve as well as the urgency in marrying woman from the Great Houses—especially as his marriages to his sister-wives remain childless.

Visenya Targaryen (29)

The elder sister and first wife of King Aegon Targaryen, having wed as per the customs of Old Valyria. She is known as a stern woman who does not yield easily to whims of womanhood. She is considered by many to be an unforgiving woman, however, if a person gains her trust, she becomes fiercely protective. She is considered to be Aegon's greatest and most advisor and the true power behind his throne. It is often said Aegon married her for duty.

Rhaenys Targaryen (26)

The younger sister and second wife of King Aegon Targaryen, he went against tradition and took Rhaenys as his second wife. Rhaenys is the more openly kindhearted than her older siblings. However, she has a more impulsive nature that leads to some jealously when more wives are deemed necessary to bring stability to Aegon's reign. She is a great art of the arts, and when she isn't riding her dragon, she is spending time with her husband or composing poetry and songs.

Falia Greyjoy (24)

Falia is the granddaughter of Harren the Black and a skilled sailor in her own right. She is often seen in the company of Visenya, helping advise her on the difference between the Ironborn's ships and those of Westeros and how to best use that to their advantage as Aegon begins his reign as King over an entire continent.

Jocelyn Tully (23)

Jocelyn is the eldest daughter of the new Lord Paramount of the Trident. She is a confident young woman who was handpicked by Queen Rhaenys. She enjoys hawking and hunting, is often seen racing Falia on horseback. She is often seen in the company of Rhaenys, although it's speculated that it's more for the woman to watch one another than a want for companionship.

Alys Arryn (22)

Alys is the cousin of the last King of the Mountain and the Vale. She is a very blunt about how different each Kingdom is from each other and often advises Rhaenys and Visenya on how they can turn these differences into strengths. She smiles easily and tends to keep herself in the background, she is cordial with Aegon's other Queens.

Lyarra Stark (19)

Lyarra is the eldest daughter of the former King in the North. She is usually found tending to the weirwood tree sapling that she brought from the North with her. She is the more seclusionary of Aegon's Queens, although a pleasant woman who greatly enjoys songs and it is greatly believed by many that she is a greenseer. She has a more neutral stance within the Royal Household but often spends her time with Visenya.

Shiera Lannister (18)

Shiera is the niece of the last Lannister King of the Rock. She is charming and of an ambitious nature, she is often seen in the company of Jocelyn or Alerie. As a Lannister she was raised to believe she deserved nothing but the best, so the idea of her as the wife of a king and possible mother of to his future heir soon became quite appealing is exactly the thing she believes she deserves.

Alerie Tyrell (17)

The youngest daughter of the new Lord Paramount of the Reach. Alerie is the youngest of King Aegon’s wives and is often seen as the more neutral party, she is greatly fond of reading and is often seen with Shiera pouring over the books in the library. She is often referred as the "littlest sister" by the other wives and occasionally her husband as well. She shows little to no interest in having children or in trying to attract her husband's attention. She is viewed as the most financially intelligent of Aegon's Queens.

[crossdressingdeath]

Cu11en being there to rebuild the Templars makes way more sense than Cu11en being there to lead an army. I don't care that he is knight-trained, dude has no idea what he's doing and his past doesn't exactly show that he's all that great at being a leader. But him being there to be one keg in Cassandra's plan for the Inquisition makes sense. Especially considering that his only protest against Meredith in DA2 was that she was moving too far from what the Templar should be, whatever the hell that means..

Yeah, there's a big difference between "Number one enforcer of the Kirkwall Bully Brigade" and leading an entire army? When we see him actually acting in a commanding role he's doing shit like threatening a recruit for possible mage sympathies; not exactly a well-loved and trusted leader! And given he only turns on Meredith when she attacks Hawke, that implies he saw things like torturing and lobotomizing mages and setting about murdering the entire population of the Gallows for the actions of one guy who wasn't even part of the Circle as a-okay and perfectly in line with the Templars' aims; it was only attacking a human noble that was a problem.

But you know, the Inquisition wasn't necessarily supposed to need an actual commander. They were supposed to be the Chantry's military, and there's a fair chance Justinia would've been giving them orders directly or through her people if necessary; odds are good that the Inquisition's commander wasn't supposed to need to do much more than relay orders from the Chantry to his troops. It would likely have been fine to have a sub-par commander if the Conclave hadn't gone as tits up as it did! But if the Inquisition was supposed to be largely led by the three advisors, putting a staunchly pro-Templar commander in play could have swayed any potential votes in the Templars' favour while also winning over a lot of Templar forces. Cullen by some miracle (read: writer meddling so everything goes their special boy's way) doesn't do a bad job as commander when one is actually needed, but there was literally no reason for Cassandra to think that was the case when she picked him; the only reason to pick him as commander was to further pro-Templar aims.

[spainkitty]

The Night Before the Hinterlands (a.k.a. To Whatever Friendship Means)

Lanil's Pieces Masterlist

They sat around the table in The Singing Maiden Tavern. Servers ran to and fro, the minstrel sang and strummed her lute, and people talked and laughed over each other, but the three of them sat in companionable silence. It was...

Nice.

Calm.

A far cry from chasing demons and closing rifts and discussing war table operations with people whom had a hundred times her experience, but somehow waited for her decisions. It was... invigorating, having that much knowledge and control over the board, being more than a pawn in the world's game of chess, but it was also exhausting after waking up without a lifetime of memories five days ago.

Tomorrow they'd head out to the Hinterlands. At last, Lavellan would tackle her first real job as Herald of Andraste--she shuddered at the very idea of using that title with a straight face. She honestly couldn't wait to get away from that damn war table and her three advisors, get her head on straight and remember what she was good at: shooting lightning bolts at fools. She gulped at the mulled wine in her too large mug and choked slightly.

"Slow down, Shortie. The night's not going anywhere," Varric joked, patting her back with a bit too much strength. She wiped at her mouth with the back her hand and glowered at him.

"That is patently untrue, Varric. Each minute that passes means the night is, in fact, going somewhere," Solas disagreed in his most pretentious tone. It made Lavellan snicker as Varric's face contorted through too many emotions to parse.

"All right, Chuckles. Just for that, the next round's on you."

Lavellan winked at Solas. He merely rolled his eyes, so discreetly she almost missed it despite looking right at him.

"So. Chuckles." She pointed at Solas. "Shortie." She pointed at herself. "Any other nicknames for people I know? What about Josephine?"

"That one's easy. Ruffles," Varric raised his mug in a mock toast. Lavellan grinned. "And then there's Nightingale for our spymaster. Not actually my work, that was her codename the first time I met her, but anything else would probably get my tongue cut out."

"Very true."

"And of course, there's Curly."

"Curly?" Lavellan repeated thoughtfully. It definitely didn't suit Cassandra, so who-- An image of Cullen, with his barely tamed blondishreddish curls flashed in her mind and she barked a laugh. "Cullen!"

"Exactly! You should've seen him in Kirkwall. He was more ginger than blond then, and never wore his Templar helmet. I swear he couldn’t put one on over the curls!"

Lavellan's head tipped back, chair rocking slightly as she laughed.

"Doncha wanna pull one? Just a little?" she joked, holding up two fingers close together. "I'm sad it used to be more red. Where'd it go?"

"It must've gone with the beard," Varric sighed, overly doleful. "I don't know what he's doing with his face these days."

Lavellan gigglesnorted into her mug.

"But no nickname for our Seeker?" Solas asked, smirking slightly.

"Bitch."

Solas snorted out loud, his perfect composure broken. Lavellan laid down her head on the tabletop and cried her laughter into the woodgrain. She forced herself up, feeling flushed and floaty, and grinned. Wider and easier than she had in days.

"Come on, Cassandra is great! If I can forgive her for imprisoning me, then you should, too." She sighed and propped her chin on her fist. "The more she disapproves of me, the more I want her to notice me. I got her to smile once and I swear, I heard birds break out into chorus."

"Don't go chasing that dragon, Shortie. She'll turn and burn you before you can blink," Varric advised.

"She's too honest for that. She'll warn me first, then burn me. And I'll thank her for the warning. Do you think she likes women?"

"Please, no," Solas muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"So that's your type, Shortie?" Varric asked, shaking his head. "I thought Hawke's taste was bad. Well... at least the Seeker won't blow up a Chantry. She has that going for her."

Lavellen shook her head, smirking. "Not really. I don't think. It's funny watching Solas get a twitch, though," she admitted, reaching out to poke at the middle of Solas' brow. He grabbed her finger mid-reach.

"You are impossible."

She beamed at him. "Thank you."

He muttered in elvish under his breath and got to his feet.

"I believe I'm supposed to buy the next round." He left the table, shaking his head.

Lavellan watched him go, smiling dopily and chin on her fists.

"So that's your type."

She rolled her eyes and faced Varric's knowing little smirk.

"You love teasing him more than I do. Is he your type?"

"My heart belongs only to Bianca. Everyone knows that," Varric said, hand over his heart.

"And now I do, too. Isn't Bianca your crossbow?"

"She's so much more than just a crossbow."

"She is a very pretty crossbow."

He raised his mug in another toast and downed the last of the wine. Lavellan sipped at the dregs of her own and listened to the minstrel sing. Like so many other songs, this one was unfamiliar, but catchy. Fun. A few of the drunker patrons were even dancing.

"I don't think I have a type. I don't know if I ever had one, or if I just don't remember," Lavellan finally admitted.

"Is it something you think is missing?" Varric asked after a few moments.

Solas returned and handed out the mugs. "What is missing?"

Lavellan waited until he raised the mug to his mouth. "My libido."

Solas paused. Set down the mug. "Lavellan. You'll have to try harder to upset my drink than that."

She and Varric laughed out loud together.

"To answer, no. I don't feel like the urge to..." she screwed her mouth to the side trying to word it right, "to make like a rabbit in springtime is missing."

Varric laughed again. "Isabela wouldn't know what to do with you."

Lavellan ducked her head and smiled. Then, shrugged. "It's stupid to say that when huge swathes of my memory are missing, but I feel like... that's me. This, right here, with you two? That's what's been missing. Probably presumptuous of me, but what I've been missing is... friends. If you wouldn't mind being my friends..."

Lavellan's cheeks flushed amd she shifted uneasily in her seat, her eyes glued to the dark red surface of the mulled wine, her fingertip tracing the lip of the mug. Over her head, Solas and Varric's eyes met. Solas' gaze was merely contemplative, but Varric's was soft.

A large, heavy hand fell on Lavellan's shoulder.

"You don't ask for friends, Shortie." She glanced up through her fringe of messy white bangs to see Varric's crooked smile. "You just get them. And you got me, kid."

Lavellan smiled, truly smiled, nothing sarcastic or forced about it. Despite the scars, the broken nose, the white hair and brows, she looked young with that smile. Barely a toehold in her thirties and the whole world on her shoulders, but in the firelight of the tavern, with that genuine smile, she looked a decade younger.

"Thanks, Varric."

His hand squeezed once. "Yeah, well. We have a Breach to close, and I ain't going anywhere till it's done."

"Very true."

She tapped her mug to his. He tapped back, wine sloshing at the rims. To their surprise, Solas gently tapped his mug to both of theirs. They stared at him, not quite gaping. He did that smile of his, the unnerving and too knowing smile.

"To whatever friendship means."

Lavellan grinned and Varric chuckled.

And then they drank.

[viiisenyas]

hmmmm REALLY thinking that Amell would be a great commander for the inquisition’s forces.

[reveluving]

meeting you ; andy barber x reader

summary: the last thing he'd expect Jacob to join is the basketball club, but soon he learns why and frankly, he’s not opposed to it.

warnings: meet-cute fluff + ‘kink’ mentioned once(!)

a/n: wow! a formal format! inspired by a vid of jaeden playing basketball and the 'handsome tigers' show (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ let me know what y’all think & don’t forget to leave some sugar <3

˚ · . series m.list

'She's the 'only teacher most of them can tolerate at the crack of dawn',' ;

It's been over a week since the wondrous progress in the Barber's relationship that night and, Andy has yet to know more about Ms (L/N). He continued to wonder what was so special about the literature teacher.

Seems like the universe’s been listening to him too.

It's been an hour since they had their dinner and Andy's finishing up some work in the living room for a change. He had the television's volume on low to fill the silence. One email, in particular, had him scowling, mostly because of its sheer informality; he didn't even notice his son walking down the stairs.

Jacob waited and waited, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to speak when something was clearly bothering his dad.

Sensing a pair of eyes in his direction, he thanked the heavens for giving him some sort of break.

"Hey Jake, just give me a sec," He closed the tab before leaning his side against the edge of the couch, "Alright what's up?"

"So um," Jacob cleared his throat, "Can I stay back in school a little longer tomorrow?" Andy's face remained neutral, but deep down, he's in suspense.

"Got a project you gotta work on?" Interested, he leaves his laptop on 'sleep mode' before beckoning the teen to sit next to him.

"No... I uh," He paused before passing his dad the flyer he had behind his back. Andy, with great suspicion, took it out of his hands before examining the paper. He blinks owlishly.

"You're joining the basketball team?" Just when he thought he couldn't be any more surprised. He hasn't shown interest in basketball in forever!

Jacob quickly shook his head.

"No no! Well, kinda? Here," He leaned in and pointed at a text, specifically, below the 'players' part.

Other Position(s): Manager

Oh?

"I don't see why not," Andy didn't see the surprise in his son's face, too busy noticing the familiar name at the very bottom.

For more enquires, contact:

Mr Fury (Coach): xxx

Ms (L/N) (Club Advisor): xxx

Ohh. So, she's in charge of the basketball club, too.

"But," Jacob stiffened, "Make sure to text me whenever you're done and on your way home," Simultaneously, he relaxes, and just like that, the grateful smile on his face was enough to make Andy forget about the stupid email from earlier.

Okay, well, he may or may not have a motive for his decision.

Surely, that teacher of his isn't that big of a deal, right?

Alas, he spoke way too soon, as he was about to find out the next day.

It was one of his first slow days, and thank goodness, too. Andy hasn't been able to get ahold of Jacob since he last texted him an hour ago. Sure, he's probably busy focusing on that club of his, but how could he not worry?

"Hey man, you good?" He looked up from his phone to find Sam, one of his colleagues that he doesn't mind hanging out with even after work.

"Not really. Jacob hasn't answered my text for a while," Sam hummed, packing up his necessities.

"Is he a part of a school club?"

"No, not yet, at least. He said he wanted to check out the basketball club practice today,"

"Oh, hey, my nephews are part of the club too! AJ and Cass," Ah, now it's all coming together. AJ is Jacob's first friend before eventually meeting his younger brother on their way home, "You ain't gotta worry, man. Their coach's hawk-eyed so the last thing those boys would want is to give him a reason to get mad,"

Andy pursed his lips.

"But, with (Y/N) around, he'll probably soften up before he can even do that," Andy straightened in his seat at the mention of her name.

"Ms (L/N)?"

"Yeah, (H/C) hair, (E/C) eyes, not so tall,"  Andy probably seemed lost since Sam stopped arranging his bag when he didn’t receive an answer, "Y-you don't know her?"

"Jacob's mentioned her a couple of times, but other than that, no," He crossed his arms, disliking the way that he's totally in the dark about this — about her.

"Sounds about right. Anyone studying English literature in Reve High would mention her name at least once," Sam shrugged as if it's a normal occurrence.

"Any particular reason why?" Andy pressed on, unaware of the text that came in minutes ago. Sam snorted.

"Why wouldn't anyone bring her up? If you're a student of hers, they'd say she's awesome or laidback or," He chuckled, remembering AJ's comment from word to word, "She's the 'only teacher most of them can tolerate at the crack of dawn',"

Andy couldn't help with the amusement on his face.

"But, if you're asking as a stranger who's interested," He raised his brows at his suggestive remark, "Then I'd say she's the whole package,"

Oh, so she's not a carbon copy of Jacob's fifty-something-year-old classroom teacher?

Sam didn't bother continuing, finding the curious yet frustrated look in the attorney's face hilarious.

"Look, I'm not spoiling anything. She's just a really good friend of Sarah and I,"

"She sounds like the school's favourite,"

"Oh, I'd say she's the town's favourite. Well, most of the town's favourite," He looked around before leaning in close, "Some moms find her iffy but it's just 'cause their man talks a lot about her, too,"

Ooh. Those kinds of people.

"I'm surprised you haven't even seen her, though, considering that she lives closer to you than us," He zipped up his bag, "But, you could in a bit. You can check up on your kid and meet her at the same time,"

Huh. Not a bad idea, Wilson.

"But," ?

"Fury's a bit of a grouch so yeah,"

Eh, well, that's not an issue.

"We’ll see,"

What he really meant was 'absolutely'.

He wouldn’t mind waiting in the car but what bothered him was the lack of replies from his boy. Just once after Sam left but that was it.

Again, he knows he shouldn’t assume the worse but Jacob had to understand where this was coming from. So, even after checking a couple of emails and no indication of Jacob anywhere, he gave in to his guts and entered the school compounds.

"Excuse me," The lady behind the desk was clearly annoyed by the interruption. That is until she laid her eyes on him and just like that, she leaned forward and... batted her eyelashes.

He nearly cringed out of instinct.

"Yes, sir?" She purred and almost immediately, he wanted to turn around and leave.

For Jacob.

"I'm here to see my son, he's at the gym," He explained in his no-nonsense tone.

"Of course, may I have your I.D?" He passed her his card and looked anywhere but her as she keyed in the necessary on the computer, "Alright, sir, I can walk you to the gym if you'd li-"

"No, thank you," He answered sharply before making his move to his location as soon as she gave him his I.D back. He did, however, enjoy the dejection in her face.

Thank goodness for that tour during Jacob's registration day.

He didn't have to walk very long before the gym came into sight. The sounds of shoes squeaking and basketballs slamming gave it away, too.

Though, he's not entirely sure what he's nervous about.

Or, he just doesn't want to acknowledge what he's nervous about.

Nonetheless, he pushed the door open, only to spot three people observing from one side. They had their backs turned to him, but Andy could immediately recognize the one of the right — Jacob.

"Alright, move it. Hit the showers, then come back for each of your statuses," The first guy has to be Coach Fury, judging by the way he barked out his orders.

He didn't even have the time to time speculate the person — the lady that stood in between them before Jacob turned around, noticing his dad at the door.

"Dad?" Simultaneously, you and Coach Fury followed his gaze and holy shit.

You were not ready to see such a hunk of a man. In business attire.

Unbeknownst to you, Andy was checking you out just as much. Whatever mental image he had based on Sam's descriptions were nothing compared to the real you. Hell, he finally understood why you were the talk of the school, nay, town!

You’re probably in your mid-to-late twenties. Your captivating (E/C) eyes — full of wonder, kindness and dare he say, enthrallment as they complemented your (S/C) skin. Suited up in your white tracksuit that nearly yet perfectly accentuated your curves. 

You’re not what he expected, and in the best way possible, mind you.

Now's not the good time to be ogling at his son's teacher, though, but damn, what he wouldn’t give to-

"Can I help you?" Andy's eyes narrowed at the authoritative tone he's received from the man Sam warned about. No matter, he's not intimidated by the older man. Not even with the scar on his left eye.

"I'm here to see my son, Jacob," He replied, biting back a snarky remark that would've thrown you or Jacob off. The two stared down at each other for who knows how long but was de-escalated just as quick when a member, possibly the captain, cautiously approached Fury.

"Coach, the status report...?" He showed him the clipboard, albeit, shaking at the sudden attention for interrupting, or to you and Jacob, saving the situation. Fury clicked his tongue before turning to Jacob.

"Appreciate your time, Barber," He patted the teen's shoulder and followed the captain elsewhere, but not before giving Andy the stink-eye. Andy seemed much more indifferent, but Jacob knew his father all too well. He could only hope that wasn't a sign of disapproval of joining the club.

"I'm so sorry about that," You sighed at his behaviour before smiling up at the man before you, "Nick’s always been wary of new faces, especially when he’s in coach mode,” 

“No harm done,” He waved the apology off. It’s not like you’re the one who offended him, so why were you saying sorry on his behalf? Still, he couldn’t help but take a liking to your euphonious voice, “I had to stop by ‘cause Jake didn’t answer my texts for a while when I clearly told him to yesterday,”

Despite the hint of annoyance in his tone, he was clearly anxious about his whereabouts. As he repeated time and time again, he’s just very worried about his boy. 

“Sorry, dad,” Jacob scratched the back of his hand, embarrassed that it’s not just him he's scolding, but you as well, “I got a little too into the practice session,” It’s times like these that Andy couldn’t help but feel bad but his constant worries were inevitable. 

“He’s quite the team player, even if he’s not playing,” You chimed in, hoping his dad would let him off the hook. You felt partially responsible since you were the one showing him the ropes, “I’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic to learn about the manager position until he came in. I’d say he'll be an excellent addition to the team. Of course, that’s up to him if he’s truly interested in joining the club,”

Andy clearly saw how grateful Jacob was for your appreciation and thought to himself for a moment. 

“Can I speak to you for a moment, Ms (L/N)?” Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have opened your mouth, “It’s nothing serious, don’t worry,”

Nope, that didn’t help at all.

“Ah, s-sure,” You cursed at yourself for stuttering. Even Jacob’s scared for you.

“Jake, you go ahead and hang out with your friends. I won’t be long,” He knew better than to argue so he glanced at you for a second with an expression that seemed to say ‘sorry’ before leaving the two of you to your discussion. You clasped your hands, hoping to control your rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” You didn’t expect him to apologize so he took your silence as an opportunity to continue, “Parental anxiety and whatnot,” You knew there was more to the story but you’re in no position to ask.

“Understandable, Mr Barber,” You nodded, “I hope you’re not angry at him, though,”

You and Andy watched as Jacob listened to Cass, AJ and a few other members attentively, stifling their laughs when one of his friends were called out by Coach Fury for disrupting.

“I didn’t think he’d be interested in a sports club, let alone basketball,” You admitted, “He’s always been the shy type in literature class but he asks questions after, so I’m not too worried about his performance,”

It’s amazing how Andy felt the need to tell you the story from A to Z, despite only knowing you for less than five minutes.

No, don't be making rash decisions, Andrew.

“Speaking of literature class,” He turned his full body to you, prompting you to do the same, although you had to look up a little and truthfully, something about the situation stirred inside him. Not a bad feeling, just very... different? 

It's his newfound kink but shh he doesn’t know that yet-

“A certain someone has been speaking highly of your class,” If you weren’t bashful enough for being in his presence, you are now.

“Which Wilson decided to open their mouth?” You groaned through your hands.

“Hey, I could be talking about Jacob, for all you know. But, I will say that he's quite the blabbermouth,” He hinted, hoping you’d catch it right away.

“Of course it’s Sam who told you,” You rolled your eyes. His sister was a total opposite so there’s no denying that he’s the culprit, and Jacob plus ‘blabbermouth’ didn’t seem right either, “It’s my responsibility, isn’t it? I want them to enjoy the subject as much as I do, the same goes for this club. Jacob may not know a lot about the knowledge behind it but so did I. So... as a faculty advisor, as long as he’s willing to learn, I shouldn’t give up on him,” 

Who knew you were able to coax a smile out of him without even trying? Damn, and that passion of yours, too? 

“He knows, he just doesn’t remember,” He looked straight ahead — at you, though he wasn’t focusing and instead, reminisced little Jacob and his sudden infatuation for basketball at one point. A point where the family felt peace. 

Boy, you didn’t like how he grew quiet but you understood that he’s not used to this... vulnerable moment. So, you were able to think fast.

“Well, then I’ll gladly help him the best I can. Who knows, I might even learn a thing or two, too,” You knew he acknowledge the ambiguity in your sentence and yet, he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Andrew, but call me Andy,”

Now, of course, you calling him Mr Barber is quite the treat but he's able to keep it together.

For now.

He offered you his hand, “Again, I’m really sorry for earlier,” It was hard for him to not notice the way your small hand fit into his massive one, though.

“(Y/N), and no apologies needed,” Coincidentally, the team dispersed, officially ending the day. Although, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tad disappointed. You were starting to enjoy Andy’s company but also ashamed for thinking you had a chance with him. 

Okay, you might've peeped the lack of a wedding band on his finger but that's besides the point.

Still, you wanted this relationship to flourish. If not for you, then for their new and hopefully improved lives.

“(L/N),” Fury called you over, waving the thick folder that you'd need to sort out soon.

“Well, that’s my cue,” You gave him an apologetic smile for having to cut the conversation short before grinning at Jacob, approaching the two of you with less apprehension, “Hope today’s session was beneficial to you, Jacob. Let me or Mrs May know if you’re up for the club or not, okay?”

“I will, thanks, Ms (L/N),” Andy hasn’t felt this sense of calm but he could only hope to feel more of it in the near future. As much as he’d like to see you and Jacob interact so naturally the same way you did with him, he didn’t want you feel to Fury’s wrath for stalling. 

“Next time, then?” He tested the waters, and thank goodness he did.

“Next time,” You gave him a thumbs-up before waving at the two, “Get home safely, you two!” They watched her interact with the hard-headed teacher in charge. There’s honestly something so comical about the dynamics between the two.

Andy and (Y/N)’s will be a lot more sweet & spicy later on but let’s not talk about that yet-

“C’mon, let’s just order dinner tonight. Your pick,” The two head out together as Andy listened to what tasks his son has done so far. Judging by the way his eyes lit up and how he even bid goodbye to his friends, including his newest ones, on their way to the car, Andy knew he was far from done.

With (Y/N) around, too?

Well, he’s not opposed to it, to be honest.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

taglist: @wanniiieeee @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @0mrs-evans0 @sophiaedits @innerblizzardbird @knifevsstageprop @marvelmenwhore @nasawho @lazysheepperfection

[jammatown919]

Suitors

This is part of a larger collection that I’ll be posting to Ao3, titled The Various Enemies of The Avatar’s Bodyguard, but I thought I’d post individual chapters here as well. 

Helpful Context: Rangi has a dragon! Her name is Valor, and the story of their meeting was supposed to come out before this, but things didn’t work out like that. This takes place a little over a year after Rangi and Valor first meet. 

------

It took two years for Zoryu to invite Kyoshi back to the Fire Nation Capital. His invitation, which Rangi believed to be written personally by the Fire Lord, expressed a desire to move past the sour note things had ended on and properly honor the Avatar for her part in preventing the Camellia-Peony War. Kyoshi suspected differently; that he, like every other world leader, simply though it best to be in her good graces.

Rangi didn't disagree, but she also recognized how important it could be for the future if they mended fences with Zoryu now, and she'd been missing her homeland since their anniversary trip. Luckily for her, Kyoshi had always found it difficult to deny her anything.

They sent the messenger hawk back with a letter of acceptance that evening, and by the next morning they were leaving Yokoya on the back of Jinpa's commandeered bison. Rangi regretted leaving her beloved dragon mount behind, but Valor was still haunted by memories of poachers and likely wouldn't take well to returning to the Fire Islands.

Yingyong got them there in good time, though Kyoshi insisted on dawdling in the Avatar's quarters so as to avoid another deafening performance. After numerous failed attempts to convince her girlfriend to do the polite thing, Rangi relented and stormed off to change into something more formal.

Kyoshi opted to remain in her fighting clothes, and Rangi gave her no grief, remembering all too well what could have happened had Kyoshi not worn her chainmail to the last party they'd attended here.

When they could both agree that the coast was likely clear of any opening acts, they made their way together to a grand ballroom, filled with nobles and politicians that Rangi already knew Kyoshi was going to try her hardest to ignore.

Slipping in late, they went undetected for an impressive two minutes, during which Kyoshi craned her neck to search the room. Once she found whatever she was looking for, she nudged Rangi in the side and leaned down to whisper.

"I think they have your favorite."

Rangi followed her gaze to one of many small tables that had been set up along the walls, presenting tiers of different foods. One such tier did indeed contain Rangi's favorite; fried stalknose mushrooms. She hadn't seen any in months, despite the Avatar's best efforts to keep the kitchen stocked with them.

"I suppose the harvest was good this year," Rangi said calmly, to hide both her excitement at their presence and her endearment that Kyoshi had thought to look for them for her. "Would you like to go try some?"

"I know you would," Kyoshi replied, and began weaving through the crowd.

It was at this point that people began to realize that the Avatar had joined them, and so they were held up multiple times by high-ranking officials who felt, and unfortunately were by Fire Nation decorum, entitled to Kyoshi's attention.

The table, a mere twenty feet away, was reached in just over fifteen minutes, and not without great effort to brush people aside as politely as possible. Fully focused on the coveted snack, Rangi didn't notice until she turned to share some that Kyoshi was no longer beside her.

Realizing this, she felt a slight spike of anxiety as she scanned the crowd, calmed only when she discovered that Kyoshi had been held up not far away by Kaito, one of Zoryu's trusted advisors. Out of everyone here, he was one of the people who should be most expected to want to speak with the Avatar, but Rangi couldn't help but feel that something was out of place.

Kaito was standing too close to be considered polite in this setting, his hand hovering near Kyoshi's as if he meant to touch it should the opportunity arise. He seemed relaxed, like he was talking to a friend rather than one of the most important people in the world.

With a sudden jolt, Rangi recognized his intention. This was courtship, bold and offensive, considering where they were.

Kyoshi, though clearly uninterested in whatever it was he was telling her, did not step away, presumably for fear of breaching etiquette. Of course she wouldn't have realized that it was Kaito who'd stepped out of line by flirting at this type of event. She likely didn't even realize he was flirting, and he likely knew that. He was taking advantage of her ignorance to put her in a position that suited him.

Rotten weasel-snake, Rangi thought viciously. Her food completely forgotten, she marched over to rescue her girlfriend, sincerely wishing she could deck this guy without causing a bigger problem.

Out of respect for the right of introduction, she did not speak as she sidled up next to Kyoshi, instead making her presence known by grabbing and clinging to her girlfriend's arm, a gesture only accepted from established and publicly approved couples. Had Kyoshi been anyone else, 'publicly approved' may have been questionable, but no one here would dare to challenge the Avatar's choice of partners. Not even a slimy little creep like the one in front of her.

Kyoshi seemed a bit surprised at the sudden contact, but she took it in stride, using it as an excuse to step a bit farther away from Kaito. There was a beat of quiet until she remembered that Rangi was not permitted to introduce herself.

"This is Rangi," she said quickly. "She's my partner."

"A pleasure to meet you," Rangi said, and fixed Kaito with a glare so sharp that he flinched as if she'd actually cut him.

"Likewise," he replied after regaining his composure. He glanced around momentarily, as if looking for an escape. "Excuse me; I have things to discuss with other attendees."

Kaito scuttled off like the insect he was, leaving Kyoshi and Rangi to themselves. Rangi resisted the urge to send a crass hand gesture after him.

"If anyone ever does that again, come find me immediately," she said to Kyoshi the moment Kaito was out of earshot.

"What do you mean?" Kyoshi asked. "And what's with you? I thought we weren't supposed to touch in public."

"That man was coming onto you," Rangi replied.

"He was what?" Kyoshi let a singular bark of a laugh. "I'm sorry, that was supposed to be flirting?"

"By court standards, yes," Rangi said. "And it's not funny."

"I think it is," Kyoshi replied, and when Rangi didn't agree, added, "Oh, I'm sorry. Was someone a bit jealous?"

"I was not!" Rangi's indignant retorted only made Kyoshi laugh more. She released her girlfriend's arm and looked away in protest, nose in the air. "There was no reason for it. You would never forsake me for such a sad little man."

"Hey," Kyoshi said, and nudged her until she made eye contact again. "I wouldn't forsake you for anybody."

"I know that," Rangi sighed.

"Then why were you so upset?"

"Because he tried to take advantage of you!" she snapped. "He knew you wouldn't understand what he was doing. I don't know why you're not more bothered."

"I mean, as gross as that was, it's not like he actually could have hurt me," Kyoshi said with a shrug. She grinned a bit and added, "Besides, I had you to rescue me."

Rangi faltered for a moment, face warming considerably.

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true," she replied. "But we should stick closer so you don't need rescuing again."

"Fine by me." Kyoshi offered her arm for Rangi to hold again. "Now let's finally get you those mushrooms before Zoryu finds us."

Rangi wasted no time in resuming her previous romantic gesture, and together the two of them made their way back to the table. The nobles around them seemed more cautious now, second-guessing their notions of getting between the Avatar and now-officially declared partner.

Good, Rangi thought. That meant she was doing her job well.

Even if she couldn't help Kyoshi avoid their inevitable awkward encounter with Zoryu, she could at least shield her from everyone else in the room, and would do so gladly for as long as she saw it necessary.

------- If you enjoyed this work, please consider reblogging to share it with others! Because of the way this site works, likes don’t actually help posts circulate, so reblogs are the only way artists like me can share their work with larger audiences here. Thank you!

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval AU

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1

Sometimes you found yourself wondering if you were living the life you should be.

You never had the chance to build a relationship with your mother, a relationship you were desperate for the older you grew. During childbirth due to her age and complications, she passed away. And for that reason, your father couldn't stand the sight of you. You were his second child and a girl no less, there was no need for you or the loss of his beloved wife and Queen.

Although your father died when you were just five years old, the most part of you was glad of it. You had hardly any memories of him, but you were certain you were unhappy in his presence.

Your older brother and Crowned Prince of York New, Tony, reassured you daily that your father did love you but you never quite believed him. Even when Tony had been crowned the King of York New, you were unsure he was telling the truth. You knew your brother loved you, unlike your father, it showed in his brown eyes that he did.

"It's just you and I, Little Princess." Tony smiled lovingly and softly at you as he brushed away your fallen tears.

You sniffled, burying your face in his chest. "A-Are... Are you... you, go-going to sen-send me a-away?" You sobbed.

Tony sat back on the cold stone floor of the throne room and pulled you into his lap. "No, Little Princess, no! You're going nowhere, you hear? I need you by my side. You're my Queen." He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You and me, okay? You and me."

~~~~~~~~~~

Years and years of Tony's rein passed by before you knew it, but Tony kept his word. You were by his side. Even when his advisors or council tried to have him send you away, he made it clear that you were going nowhere until you were 21 years old.

Even when he took under his wing a young orphaned boy, Tony made it clear you were staying put.

The kingdom was in chaos. There had been a attack the castle and surrounding villages, but your armies were stronger, powerful, and mighty. You had been locked away in the highest tower to protect you whilst your brother fought bravely alongside his men. They fought day and night, long into the following day.

By the time word was sent for you to be taken down to the throne room, you were fast asleep.

"Princess Y/N," A soft voice whispered as you were shaken awake.

Your small eyes blinked open and looked upon the face of the guard that had been assigned to looking after you. "Happy?" You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Sir Hogan, or Happy as you called the slightly grumpy man, chuckled softly. "Come, Princess, His Majesty as called for you."

"Tony is safe?" You jumped up, running for the door.

You ran as fast as your little eleven years old legs would take you and didn't stop until you reached the large wooden doors of the throne room. The guards opened the door barely in time for you to dash through them.

"Anthony!"

Tony grinned as he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, hugging you close to him as he held the back of your head. "Little Princess, I'm happy to see you."

You giggled pulling back and looking at his scratched and bruised face. "What took you so long?" You pouted.

Chuckles from the King's closest friends and Knights echoed around the room as the man himself placed you back on the floor. "My apologies, My Queen." He bowed to you making you grin. "I have someone for you to meet."

Your brow knitted together, "Oh?... the head of your enemy?"

More laughs echoed as Tony rolled his eyes as he stood. He held his hand out towards Sir James where a little boy about your age stepped out from behind him. "Princess Y/N, I'd like you to meet Peter... We're going to look after him." He smiled.

Your eyes widened a little. "... He's a boy." You pouted.

Tony nodded, "He is."

"You're getting rid of me, aren't you?"

The young boy gasped, shaking his head. "Don't be silly, Princess. Everyone knows you're not allowed to go anywhere."

You scowled at the boy. "I'm never silly..." You folded your arms and looked away.

Sir James rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Definitely your sister." He muttered so only the King could hear.

Tony shot his friend a glare. "Little Princess," Tony knelt in front of you. "This boy's family was... killed. He had no parents already, but his Aunt died tonight. There was no one left to look after him, the village was, practically destroyed... What would you have me do? Send him away? Let him die?"

You let out a sigh, looking back to Peter. "Do you like horses?"

He nodded, "I like swords too."

Your eyes lit up. "What about bow and arrows?"

Peter nodded, "I'm the best." He said triumphantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You scoffed, "You haven't seen me, yet."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~

As the years rolled on, your friendship and bond with Peter only grew, as did the council's worries. They decided it was time Tony took a wife and gave the kingdom a Queen once more. Another feeble attempt of them trying to have you sent away. 'It's time you had an heir, there's no need to have the Princess here.' And as he always would do, Tony told them no. You were still the rightful heir to the throne whilst he had no Son and Heir.

You loathed this part of the evening, where one man tried to up the other with gifts, all to impress the King and make himself look superior to others.

Tony leaned over the side of his throne and nudged you, "Look happy, it's your... cow statue, birthday gift." He mocked the gift currently being presented to you, just as bored as you were by the process.

You lowered your face towards your lap and bit back your giggle.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Steven of Brook," The court announcer introduced the next person to present their birthday gift to you.

"King Anthony, Queen Virginia," The blond-haired Prince bowed before you.

"Prince Steven," The King and Queen greeted their friend, happy to see him after so long.

"How are you this evening, old friend?" Tony smiled.

Prince Steven smiled in return, "Very well, thank you, Your Majesty. How are you?"

Tony nodded, "About ready for another drink," He breathed out glancing down to his empty cup.

You let out a small snicker trying to keep up your ladylike facade, knowing Queen Virginia or Pepper as she was known to her close family, would scold you for being improper.

Prince Steven turned his gaze to you and bowed again, "Princess, may I say you're looking breathtakingly beautiful tonight," He teased, knowing how flustered you could get.

You smiled through your blush. "You do flatter me, Prince Steven."

He let out a soft chuckle. "May I present to you my gift?"

"You may,"

Prince Steven nodded and turned his attention to the servant waiting patiently. He took a velvet square box from the young boy and approached you. "Happy Birthday, Princess." He smiled softly at you as he handed you a box and took your hand in his and bowed to you. "I hope you find it as beautiful as I do. My only fear is, your beauty will outshine and render it ugly." He pressed his lips against your knuckles and made you blush once more.

"You're engaged, remember, Prince Steven," Tony teased, glancing over to the brunette woman who was watching the interaction like a hawk.

"Anthony," Queen Virginia scolded your brother from his other side, putting a smile on your face.

"Please ignore my brother, Your Highness... Fool," You hissed playfully at the King beside you, making him chuckle.

Prince Steven stepped back with his hands up to show no hard feelings. "I know what His Majesty can be like, Princess." He chuckled softly, "Please, open your gift, and ignore his Royal Majesty the fool." Prince Steven grinned mischievously.

Tony scoffed dramatically, making you giggle before you opened the velvet box carefully and immediately gasped, "Oh, my," You ran your fingers over the beautiful necklace that laid inside.

"Prince Steven, this is most beautiful." You smiled, memories of your first time in Brook rushing back to you.

Prince Steven let out an audible sigh of relief. "Is it the same colour? As the sea in Brook."

You nodded, looking up to meet his waiting gaze. "...Yes. Thank you,"

Prince Steven smiled, "You're welcome, Princess. I'll allow you to get back to your other guests." He bowed again, "Happy 16th Birthday, Princess," He whispered before he left to be by his fiance's side.

The guests continued to present their gifts to you and the King, and although they were all unique and beautiful in their own way none were as beautiful and meaningful as Prince Steven's.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Brock of Lower East,"

Your blood ran cold and the great hall fell silent at the mention of that man's name. The dark-haired Prince smirked as he approached you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Your Majesties," He bowed (if that's what you could call it) to your King and turned his attention to you. "How beautiful you look tonight, Princess Y/N."

You held your head high keeping your gaze fixed ahead of you. "Thank you,"

Prince Brock turned his attention to Tony, "I do hope you've taken my request into consideration, Your Majesty."

Tony's brow knitted together. "There's no need, Prince Brock. My sister is not of age yet and, I'm sorry to say this but you are not who I intend for her to marry."

You gasped loudly drawing the attention of those closest to you, turning in your throne to gape at your brother. "Tony, please-"

He held his hand up to silence you, "Present your gift to the Princess, and we'll discuss no more of this business."

"Very well." Prince Brock nodded with a tightly set jaw as he clicked his fingers at the servant. He snatched the much smaller box from the shaking boy's hands. "It seems somewhat pointless now." He stepped forwards and placed the box in your hands, letting his fingers graze yours. "But, I will buy you a thousand and more if it means you becoming my wife."

"I said, enough!" Tony slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne, it echoed around the silent hall.

"Please, my love," Queen Virginia placed a comforting hand on her husband's arm to calm him.

You scowled down at the box, opening it to find a hideous engagement ring. "I can not accept this-"

"You must. It is your birthday gift... nothing more, thanks to your King."

"Thank you, Prince Brock," You thanked him before Tony could speak, sensing he would most likely order his head to be off or something to that effect. You sighed as you closed the box up, handing it back to the servant. You smiled kindly at him and thanked him.

Prince Brock eyed you before glancing over to where Prince Steven was stood with his fiance and his trusted best friend and Knight, Sir James Barnes. "You know, it's almost unfortunate, you being here tonight."

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Prince Brock. How can my 16th birthday celebrations be unfortunate?" You scowled at the man.

"Well... on one hand, we are graced with your ever-growing beauty and charm, but if it was not for the unfortunate death of your father and King, brought on by those... we shall not mention, you would not be sat where you are." He smirked triumphantly as you visibly paled at the mention of your father.

You felt Tony shift beside you and out the corner of your eye, you saw Sir James begin to disappear away from prying eyes. Anger boiled up inside you, "HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" You shouted and raised to your feet before Tony could stop you. Silence fell over the court as you glared daggers at the prince before you. "How dare you, speak of my father? How dare you show my family and I disrespect, in our own Castle, our own Kingdom.

"The past is the past, Prince Brock, and we do not judge others today by the actions and misunderstandings of others then," You turned and moved over to the servant snatching the Prince's gift back. "If you can not show my family and I the respect we deserve and can only continue to spit evil among our celebrations then I must ask you to leave, Prince Brock, and take your unwanted gift back." You heavily dropped it into his hand.

Silence resumed throughout the great hall as King Anthony stood from his throne and stood behind you. "You heard the Princess, Prince Brock. Leave." He nodded his head towards nearby guards. "Please escort Prince Brock out of the Castle and our Kingdom." Tony placed his hand on your shoulder as the Prince was removed.

"You'll regret this, Stark!"

Once Prince Brock had been removed, you moved over to where Sir James Barnes was stood with Prince Steven and his fiance, hoping the celebrations could continue.

"Sir James, would you care to dance?" You smiled kindly up at him.

Sir James began to blush and glanced to Prince Steven who was being tugged closer by his fiance. "Shouldn't you be asking one of the princes to dance, Your Highness?"

"There'll be plenty of time for that, Sir James. But for now, I would like to dance with a kind man, I hope will be a good friend of mine one day." You smiled.

Sir James began to grin before he nudged Prince Steven's side. "Tough luck, Princey." He jabbed at the blond prince making you smile.

Prince Steven chuckled, "Have fun, Bucky." Prince Steven smiled warmly at you with a nod. "Princess,"

You nodded, "Prince Steven," You looked to his fiance with a faux smile, "Princess Margret."

Sir James lead you into the middle of the crowd as the music began to play, and slowly the two of you began to move together.

The two of you danced in comfortable silence until Sir James cleared his throat, "I must thank you for your kind and brave words, Your Highness." Sir James whispered.

"They were the truth, Sir James."

He nodded, "Still. I know what my father did all those years ago, isn't the easiest thing to forgive."

You shook your head. "But it doesn't reflect the person you are." You smiled up at him. "You're a good man, Sir James... a far better man than Prince Brock." You reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before excusing yourself and left through the french windows with Peter.

"Buck?" Prince Steven approached the brunet knight. "Everything okay?"

Sir James nodded and turned to face his best friend and Prince of Brook. "More than, Your Highness."

"You seem to be getting on very well with the Princess, James." Princess Margret spoke from beside her fiance with a hidden look.

Sir James nodded, "She's a very kind young princess, Your Highness."

Prince Steven nodded, "That she is, Bucky." He smiled as he turned to watch you walk out of sight into the gardens.

[mcuamerica]

The Blue Willow (Part 4)

Summary: In a world of soulmates, you’re left alone until one day, a prince comes to rescue you.

Pairings: Prince!Tom x Common!Reader; Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: anxiety, a bit of angst at the end, typos probably (if i forgot anything, let me know!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Tom or any of the people mentioned in this fanfic; I am just using his name/face/characteristics for this fic. This is not how Tom acts and I do not know him, so, therefore, I do not know if he would do any of this. Any characters that resemble people irl is completely coincidental.

Words: 2650

It had been a month since that fateful night at the ball. You lived in the castle, spending time learning about the royal lifestyle, getting to know Tom, and visiting with his family. Tom had recently taken you on a date, though it was just him and you brushing the horses in the stable and then walking around the gardens. It didn’t seem like much, but you absolutely loved it. You knew it would be fast, it normally was for soulmates, and falling in love with him came so easy. He truly cared about everything you did. If you gripped your hand a little tighter, if you made a strange noise, anything to sense that you weren’t okay, Tom would question you. He wanted you to be comfortable.

Not to mention, the countless nights you spent in his quarters, cuddled up in front of the fire talking about your childhoods. Or even what had happened throughout the day. Sometimes, Tom and you would end up making out, but it wouldn’t go further than that. Tom would always stop if he felt his hands go lower than normal. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. And you two weren’t even engaged yet.

Engaged. You two were courting, officially. Though, you didn’t see much point in it considering that you were soulmates. Why do soulmates need to court? Well, according to the council (a group of advisors who helped oversee the monarchy) and the law, soulmates to any royalty had to court for at least three months before a wedding would be announced. It was trivial. Sometimes soulmates would meet, marry within the week, and if able, have children within the year. That’s just how passionate the pull was. And even if Tom was your soulmate, sleeping together before marriage was forbidden. Before being engaged? You couldn’t even imagine the rumors that would circulate. And none would favor you either.

Anytime you went into town to visit your mother, you always had guards with you. One day, you took Tom with you into the market, and you couldn’t help but feel the eyes on you as you walked with him through the fruit section. Every single person watched you like a hawk watched its prey. Like if you took one wrong step, said one wrong thing, they would burst out laughing and you would be thrown out of the castle.

It didn’t make it better that Tom’s cousins were coming into town, and Queen Nicola decided to plan a ball. This time, just for royalty. But you were beginning to learn how much royalty there was around here. Countless dukes and duchesses, endless amounts of counts and lords, and even more knights and ladies. The King had announced you an honorary lady the week after you met Tom, wanting to give you official royal status and protection, as well as respect. So, instead of Miss Landon, or Miss (Y/N), you were to be called Lady Landon, Lady (Y/N). For some reason, you couldn’t get used to it. You didn’t know how you would get used to being called princess… or queen one day.

What made it all better was that Tom was always there beside you. He’s been a great comfort for you, having him next to you. Anytime you needed it, you could hold his hand or relax in his arms. You didn’t know how the future king of the country could be so free in his time, but he made it for you. If you were ever going out, or near any large crowds, he made sure he was with you. You didn’t even know you had a fear of it until the night you met him. Maybe it was the way everyone was staring, or the excitement of meeting Tom, or the new rush of emotions flowing through your body, but ever since then, the large crowds made you anxious. This upcoming ball was not helping.

You knocked on Tom’s door after getting a nod from the guard that he wasn’t busy. “Tom?” You called out and opened the door slightly. “Can I come in?” You asked, frowning slightly when you saw his eyes were red and slightly puffy. You quickly came inside, closing the door behind you. “Oh, Tom, baby, what’s wrong?” You asked and kneeled in front of him, cupping his cheek. You could’ve sworn you hadn’t felt sadness surge through your body before you came in, but as soon as you touched his cheek, half the anxiety left your body.

“N-nothing. I’m fine, darling.” He said and sniffed, giving you a strained smile. You shook your head and pulled his head down towards your chest. You didn’t know why he was upset, but considering that you knew he was anxious, it had to be something with his royal duties. “Tom.. you can talk to me,” you whispered after a few minutes of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding onto you tightly.

He let out a shaky breath, pulling away from you ever so slightly so he could look into your eyes, something he found comfort in. “It’s this treaty with the kingdom next to us. My father made it my responsibility to make sure it was signed by the end of the month and I couldn’t… I can’t do it.” He muttered. You stroked his cheek and kissed his forehead.

“You can do it, I know you can.” You said and gave him a comforting smile. “I believe in you, and you have so much knowledge and strength. You can do this, Tom.”

“They won’t sign it unless we give them more than what they’re giving us. My father would disapprove.” He said and shook his head. You could see him getting worked up again, so you shushed him quietly.

“Don’t push yourself, Tom,” you said. “Can you take a break for the rest of the day? Maybe come back to it tomorrow. Get your mind off of it.” You asked and tilted your head to the side.

“I’ve gotta get it done today... I just couldn’t take it in my office anymore. Not with Harrison berating me.” Tom said and reached up, wiping the tears from his face. “I’m sorry if I made you upset as well.” He said.

“Don’t apologize, baby.” You said quietly and kissed his cheek tenderly. “You couldn’t make me upset. Besides, I was worried enough about this ball on Friday.” You said. “Maybe I made you feel this way.” You half-joked and smiled when he shook his head. His breathing finally steadied out.

“You’re okay, Tom. You will figure it out.” You said and pulled him into an embrace again. “I know you will.” You said quietly and smiled at him. Ever since you met him, you felt this endearing and adoration towards him whenever you looked at him. You could feel the rise of it in him when he looked at you from across the room too. The sensation would bubble in your gut up through your stomach into your chest. Sometimes, if he looked at you with that adorning look for long enough, you felt yourself get warm in the face. You always had to look away, or go nearer to him and feel his skin on your skin to satisfy that pull. The pull that you ignored that first day, but one that you came to desire. You gave in to it so easily now. You wanted to be as close as possible with Tom. And you knew it wasn’t just because you were soulmates, it’s because you truly cared for him.

Tom was so much more than your soulmate. He was so much more than a prince. He cared for you, of course, but he also made you laugh, smile, and cry (of happiness). He made you feel things you hadn’t even known were possible. Security, vulnerability, longing, passion. It was all so new and strong you could barely handle it. You could feel his emotions, what he was feeling too. Even though you were still figuring out those emotions, you were starting to understand the difference between the two of you. Your emotions arose in the center of your chest and would spread from there. Tom’s emotions started in his lower abdomen and went upwards. If you ever felt upset or angry, it was probably coming from Tom while he was in a meeting. And it never happened when he was around you.

You started to long for his touch, too. You wanted to feel the brush of his hand against yours. You wanted to have his hands on your waist as you read or sketched in your art book. You wanted to hold his hand while eating breakfast or dinner. The closer you could be, the better. The pull between the two of you was undeniable and almost irresistible. Anytime you got too close, you were interrupted by one of his brothers or Harrison. And even one time, the queen. That was embarrassing for everyone. Not that it was anything more than you on Tom’s lap, kissing him while his hands rested on your waist, but it was still embarrassing. You wanted all the time in the world to be alone with him. And that never seemed like it would happen.

Tom cupped your cheek and smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Next time, I’ll come to you when I get frustrated. You make me feel so much better.” He whispered and leaned in, his lips meeting yours.

After a few moments, you both pulled away. “I’ll find you before you even know it,” You said quietly. “I’ll be back for dinner with you. Just you and I.” Tom said, voice just above a whisper. “And maybe… if I get this deal done, I’ll take you up to the holiday house this weekend.”

Your eyes widened with surprise. “Really? You’ve mentioned it before. And it would be nice to get away from all the staff around here to be alone.” You said happily and pulled him close again, burying your face in his neck.

“Yes, the alone time is what I’m hoping for.” He whispered and smiled as he kissed your cheek. “But first, I do need to get back to work. Thank you for comforting me, darling.” He kissed your head one last time before pulling away.

“I don’t get a kiss?” He heard you say, feeling a spark of happiness in the back of your chest. He turned back around, kissing you again before pulling away and walking towards the door. “I’ll see you tonight, darling.” He said, winking as he walked out of the room.

Tom could feel the happiness in your chest fade the further he got away from you, but it was never fully gone as he settled in his office chair. He needed to get this treaty sorted out so he could have time with you. Over the past month, you both had spent time together getting to know one another. But Tom still felt like it wasn’t enough. He still wanted to be with you. Even now, with you only a floor above him and a few rooms over, he felt that undeniable pull. The yearning sensation to be near. It was an everlasting feeling that never went away until you both relieved yourselves and connected skin. Tom wasn’t getting used to it. And he honestly felt like that’s what was distracting him. Not that he was complaining. It wasn’t negative at all. As weird as it sounds, he longed to be longing for you. He loved feeling what you were feeling. The slightly flutter in your chest as you heard him utter one of the various pet names he had for you. The eruption of happiness or excitement when he could tell you were laughing. Even the non-happy emotions, like the tingle of anxiety at the back of your throat while you were in your royal lessons. He wanted to feel all of it if it meant being closer with you.

Harrison pulled him out of his thoughts as he set another few papers on his desk. “They agreed to the terms.” He said and raised his eyebrows. “Tom?” Harrison said again and waved his hand in front of his face.

“Yeah, yeah..” Tom muttered, looking at the files for a moment, then his eyes widened. “They agreed?” He asked and stood up.

Harrison chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, mate. They agreed.” He said and laughed when Tom pulled him into a hug. “Alright there, buddy. I think (Y/N) has made you soft.” He said and smiled at Tom when Tom shook his head.

“She’s made me better, that’s what.” He said, the anxiety he felt earlier easily being replaced with excitement and joy. “I’m done for the day then? Block out this weekend. I’m taking my soulmate to be alone for a weekend.” He said happily and grabbed his suit jacket, strutting out of his office with confidence.

“Tom, this is beautiful.” You said as he helped you out of the carriage.

“I figured you would like it. A nice little cottage to spend the weekend away in… no one can bother us. And we can do whatever we want.” Tom said while your arm was looped in his and you walked towards the entrance.

“I love it.” You said and turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hugged him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I could tell you felt a little suffocated in the castle with all the staff and my entire family.” He said and smiled gently. “I wanted to give us the chance to have more time alone, too.”

“It’s perfect,” you said and walked further into the cottage with him. “We’re really here all alone?” You asked and turned back towards him.

Tom nodded and looked at you. “Yes. No staff or anyone else to interrupt. We can spend the weekend reading, you can sketch, I can watch.” He teased and smiled. “There are stables nearby if you’d like to go horseback riding, though I know you haven’t don’t that very much.”

You nodded and played with the strands of his hair as you looked into his eyes. “I haven’t, but anything I can do with you sounds perfect, Tom. I really just want to spend time with you. And I want you to relax as well.” You said.

“Such an amazing woman I have,” Tom whispered and leaned down, pressing his soft lips to yours. You two hadn’t gotten a truly private moment for the whole month. There were always guards in the room, or someone coming in just as you were getting closer. You didn’t know how Tom convinced the king and queen to let both of you alone for a weekend, or how your step-father approved of this before marriage, but you didn’t care. You were with Tom and that’s all that mattered to you.

You were prepared to spend the entire weekend cuddled on the couch, in Tom’s arms as he stroked your side and talked about anything and everything. That was until a guard came knocking on the front door the second day you were there.

Tom sighed and stood up, kissing your head gently as he walked towards the door. “What?” He asked, clearly not happy that his time with his soulmate was interrupted.

You could feel the bubbling of anxiety, worry, and sadness in Tom’s gut as you heard the faint sound of voices at the door. You stood up, walking over to the door and placing your hand on Tom’s shoulder. He immediately turned around and buried his head in your neck, lacing his arms around your waist.

“Tom? What’s wrong?” You asked quietly. He pulled away ever so slightly so he could look at you, tears welling in his eyes.

“My father is hurt.”

PART FIVE

Series Masterlist

A/N: I cut it short this time because I don't really know where it's going to go from here! Anything that y'all want to see?

tag list: @sarbear94 @iluvjj

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

potent but not real, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: You kill people. Kim Taehyung doesn’t. He assisted you with one particular kill and then he kissed you. And, like a needle of methadone, the two of you chase the high again and again, knowing there is no hope for you. But there is for him. All Taehyung has to do is to walk away from your eyes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of murder (non-graphic); sociopathic reader; unprotected sex (fem reader, sex in an office after hours, f-receiving oral, fucking against a desk, (symbolic) lipstick-covered motel sex, m-receiving oral, cowgirl); implied angst; non-idol!AU - office worker!Taehyung x assassin!reader (John Wick-esque)

Inspired by Methadone by Rise Against. The italicized bits are parts of the lyrics sprinkled throughout the story. If you like rock, check ‘em out!

--

The last time was a five-star hotel, but this time was a dingy motel, and you dressed appropriately. Thin-strapped flimsy black dress, kitschy animal print fur coat, strappy heels, and torn stockings, stumbling along the halls, ignored by others because you were mumbling under your breath, empty bottle in your hand, hair astray and makeup smeared.

No one wants a dirty-looking prostitute, and especially not a crazy one.

If anyone bothered to look at your face, they would have noticed how beautiful you were, caked under layers of makeup. They would have noticed that despite your erratic steps and nonsensical words, your eyes were shockingly clear, observing everything, hawk-like and hyper-focused. They would have seen that you took care not to move your left side too much, the thick fur hiding a barely-there lump.

You tipped into a door and tripped into the motel room.

The door instantly snapped closed behind your fallen body.

Locked.

love like a needle full of methadone

You rolled onto your back, looking up. Kim Taehyung stared down at you.

How did it come to this?

potent but not real, left you wanting more lipstick track-marks bleeding wet

It had only been a job, a woman this time. The higher-ups usually had you take the women. It was easy, but you needed an in, and Kim Taehyung had been that in. He was aware of what was happening and he was getting paid to keep his mouth shut. The first time you met him had been calm, neutral smiles as you greeted the tall, dark-haired man. You had worn appropriate office attire, slightly ill-fitted pants, starchy white dress shirt, big glasses, prim bun. Taehyung had greeted you at the door of the company he worked at. Your role was an outsourced advisor to help the company heads improve productivity and workflow. Taehyung led you around the floors, showing you various things, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the information Taehyung would provide you after hours. Names, schedules, addresses.

The woman had also worked at this company.

Had.

You did not ask for the reasoning. Embezzlement? Public shame? Had blackmail on someone? Had sex with the wrong rich man or woman? It didn’t matter. People die in senseless ways every day and one more meant nothing to you. That was your great skill, a skill unmatched by any other.

No remorse.

Perfect for the murder business.

And, like one truly born from the Eastern cultural mindset, instead of trying to get help or cure yourself of your apathy, you monetized your skill by becoming an assassin.

for us child, the stars refuse to shine why for us child, do the stars refuse to shine?

You followed the woman for weeks. The timing was important. Patience was key. Blending in, a different guise every week, a different method planned every day. The thing about killing for hire was that if you didn’t want to be caught, you couldn’t have a pattern. If you didn’t settle on a method, it couldn’t be connected back to you. That was the way you liked to do things.

The perfect weapon, a dangerous method.

The higher-ups were impatient, but you didn’t care. You knew what must be done and, when you’re the one doing the dirty work, you didn’t let them question you. If they wanted this to end a different way, they would have used a different assassin. But they chose you for a reason. You always had the cleanest kill, completely untraceable.

No one would ever know the Circle was involved.

It was a spotless erasure.

The reward was hefty, and, throughout the years, you earned far more than any human needed in their lifetime. Money was never your drive, but you took it all. You knew your own worth. Your work was too good to be underappreciated.

Taehyung was in on it. He knew it was going to happen. He gave you the name, the address, her usual timetable. He presented it all to you, without question, on a shadowy, starless night. You stared into his dark brown eyes, wondering why he could do such a thing. He held your gaze, dark hair pushed back, sculpted brows, serious expression. You wondered if he was broken like you, but that sort of thing was impossible.

There is no one as unhinged as you.

“Why are you this business?” he asked quietly in his deep, baritone voice.

It wasn’t accusing or beseeching. It was simply a question, no flaff attached to it.

“Because I’m well-suited for it.” You tapped the side of your head. Unsmiling. “Some screws fell loose when I was molded from the clay.”

Taehyung kept his gaze on you, blinking slowly. You expected him to recoil in disdain, be confused, or simply retreat from your unsmiling, vacant demeanor. Instead, he took a step closer.

“You shouldn’t need screws when molding from clay.”

One step closer, looking down, casting shadows all over his face.

“You only need screws when you’re making a machine.”

Taehyung leaned in and kissed you.

we wound up back here again

Fucking.

It was always a means to an end, something you did to fulfill that carnal need, a need that you did not understand very well, but it was there, and, like a starving beast, it demanded to be satisfied. Taehyung kissing you in a random office twelve stories up in a random skyscraper didn’t mean much.

But there was no consequence either.

You grabbed his head and crashed your lips to his again.

The risks were low. You knew everything about Kim Taehyung. The higher-ups of the Circle briefed you on him. You had his education history, knew every apartment he had lived in and every girlfriend he had ever dated. Had access to his credit card history, his medical records, everything.

He knew nothing about you.

Taehyung didn’t know you had no traceable past, didn’t know you had no home, didn’t know you belonged to the most powerful group of assassins the world has ever had the misfortune to create, didn’t know how many nights you spent in and out of consciousness, body traumatized and stitched back together, for you, a tool of the Circle, to be used once more.

This was your choice. Anyone could get out.

You just have to ask to die.

You sucked on his tongue and he groaned in your mouth, hands sliding between your arms to grasp your buttons and undo them one by one, thrusting his tongue in your mouth as he did so. Your breathing deepened, surrounding yourself with his warm herbal scent, fingers sinking into his cheeks, your shirt coming apart and his hands diving in, kneading your breasts with his strong hands.

Saying nothing.

There was nothing to say, because it was senseless, foolish, the worst idea imaginable. Yet, despite your demure and borderline unflattering appearance, Taehyung could see your hawk-like and hyper-focused gaze. You caught him watching you, not just your body, but your eyes, taking every opportunity to observe them. You could see his mind memorizing the shape, the iris color, the position of every lash.

Against your lips, he whispered, locking you with his stare.

“Your eyes are art to me.”

Taehyung knew. He must know that you were a highly trained assassin, which was only a pretty word for paid serial killer. It made you the lowest of the low, the worst kind of human being, the kind that does not deserve compliments or sweet nothings.

He pushed your head back and licked your neck, up your trachea, collarbone to chin, leaving a long, wet stripe of saliva.

The unnatural action made your shiver in his hands.

He kissed down, scooping your breasts out, nicking your skin with his teeth, not asking, but aware that you could break his neck at any second. The Circle could call you right now and tell you Kim Taehyung needed to die and you would kill him without hesitation or remorse.

His lips closed around your nipple and his dark eyes were on yours once more.

There were no stars tonight.

The world that you and Taehyung had created in this spare office was only lit from below by the unsuspecting city through the window.

He sucked hard. He used teeth. He licked and pulled and streams of saliva dripped down your chest, your body shuddering in his hands, hands falling back onto the desk and leaning back, Taehyung over you, your shirt falling down your upper arms, the euphoric rush almost unbearable, too much feeling for your empty heart.

No talking, no words, nothing but sound. Gasps, slurping, kissing down your stomach, skin being scraped with teeth and hands, Taehyung’s dark eyes on your face, always on your face, and you looked down at him, watching him undo your slacks, never losing control, not even as he pushed your panties down and snaked his tongue in between your folds. Your jaw clenched as his warmth invaded yours, your hand fitting on the back of his head, curling your fingers in his hair, a solid grip that could not be broken unless he finished his job. His tongue slid in and flicked your clit, stroking its ego, your hips grinding into his face, nearly suffocating him, but Taehyung said nothing, his stare never leaving, almost unnerving, but you didn’t care.

Slicker, stronger, rougher, his lips closing in, sucking and licking, teeth nicking your clit, his hands on your ass and nails digging in, pushing you to him and lengthening the stroke of your hips to his face, flooding his mouth with sweet honey and his ears with savage snarls, his eyebrow cocking, the only indication that he was asking for you to cum, fingers splayed over your ass cheeks.

You sucked in a breath and bucked into his face, hissing, clit almost painfully throbbing, and Taehyung finally shut his eyes, groaning as he drank it all like he was trapped in the desert and your leaking core was his oasis.

He didn’t bother murmuring your name.

It wasn’t your real name anyway.

like unstable chemicals combining only to explode

Assassins don’t need to procreate.

You were given options.

You chose complete removal.

Your uterus was probably in some biohazardous landfill, rotting away.

The only visible scar was mixed with the thousands all over your skin. It didn’t mean much to you.

Taehyung removed his face from between your legs, strings of your cum all over his chin. They snapped and hung downwards, so viscous that they just suspended there. He wiped it up his skin and licked it off, breathing hard.

Maybe that was all he wanted, but that was not all you wanted.

You yanked him up by his tie, nearly making him choke, and then his orgasm-stained breath was in your face. You pushed his face to the side, fitting your chin to his broad shoulder and inhaled that comforting herbal scent, the scent of Taehyung, and you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down, sliding your hand under the waistband of his underwear and pulling his already hard cock out. He gasped into your neck, grabbing your arm, but you growled, pumping his length roughly, making it swell to its full girth in your hand.

You knew how big he was. It was recorded in his medical record.

what would it take for you to notice

You pulled one of your legs out of your pants, fitted it around his waist, and shoved him inside you, grimacing, your ass against the desk. Taehyung pulled his head back, dark brown eyes wide, shocked that you took him so fast but, to you, pain was life, and this was nothing. In fact, it was welcome pain, being stretched out, sinking down on him, maintaining eye contact.

“What if–”

“It’s not possible for me to get pregnant anymore.”

He searched your eyes, looking for the lie. He mouthed the word, anymore, and there were questions, but you cared not for them, slapping your hips to his and he gasped, grabbing your leg and fucking you hard, right into the desk, sloppy, wet, but so much force, lifting you a little to sit you partially on the wood and then pound you harder, practically impaling you with his large cock. Even then, your back didn’t arch. Even then, your head didn’t tilt back. You were panting, primal noises at your throat, and his eyes were on yours, and then your moans and his moans matched, both of you committing arson, setting your worlds ablaze with lust, your nails scraping against the desk and his nails piercing your thigh, leaving bruises and marks.

Taehyung leaned in, a heavy sigh and wanton hiss, your hot breath mixing with his, loud slaps of skin on skin, his cock brutally slamming into you, your pussy tightening all around him. In an instant, one particularly jarring thrust and you felt the rush igniting all your nerves at once, a wordless gasp between your bodies as it all crashed down on him. He grunted, jaw set, closing one eye at the force of your orgasm milking his out, cramming your tightness full of his release, hot strings painting your insides, wasted in the name of senseless desire.

i am a heart on fire and all the world's a fuse so don't get close

And now, in this dingy motel, dressed like a cheap whore, you looked up at Kim Taehyung, clad in a plain green sweater vest and t-shirt, light wash jeans ripped up and showing off his muscular legs. He stood out more than you, his strong and handsome features far too difficult to disguise, but he was no one of note, a simple company man who would never be investigated for anything because he was insignificant on paper. There was nothing for Kim Taehyung to hide.

Nothing except his nights with you.

the trouble and the worth am i better off on my own?

You got off the floor and went to the bathroom to wipe off your face, frowning at the amount you had piled on to mask most of your features. Taehyung waited patiently, as he had all this time. He didn’t want to see you with all that on either. You washed your face and came out of the bathroom, shouldering out of your fur coat and draping it on a rickety chair, nearly collapsing it with the weight.

Revealing your gun holster.

It sat on your left side, within easy reach of your right hand. You had a limited number of bullets. You never wasted your shot. This wasn’t an action movie. You unclicked the buckle holding it against your body and set it on the table, the modern tool of murder looking ominously black against the cheap wood, machine-carved patterns trying to make it look fancy, but the poor staining gave away all the mechanical mistakes.

“Is that for me?”

You looked up to the deep voice.

Taehyung gazed back at you, expression unreadable, but clearly referring to the gun. His hair wasn’t styled, black-brown curls shading his forehead, parted in the middle. Hands in his pockets, ass against the end of the bed.

“No.”

A simple answer with no further explanation.

The Circle did not instruct you to kill Taehyung, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t at some point.

They were ruthless.

Taehyung was not looking at your skimpy clothes or your bare arms and legs. His eyes were on yours, as they always were, revealing his intent, hiding nothing. He had an intimidating stare and you had a pointed one, sharpened to drink in every observation until it was a part of your memory.

There was a bottle of red wine open on one of the nightstands, with one used wine glass.

Taehyung spread legs for you, as he did many times before.

You sometimes wondered why he continued with this. There was nothing he gained from it other than the actual sex itself. Did he feel sorry for you? Did he do it because fucking a murderer was an unattainable high in itself? Did he like you? Was he just killing time like how you killed other human beings? In some way you had contaminated him, and now Taehyung could not go back to his vaguely innocent life.

It didn’t matter what the reason was.

Better you not know.

He pulled one of his hands out of his pocket, opening an object with one hand. It was a black and gold tube of red lipstick. Shockingly red, far too expensive for someone like you, with those iconic overlapping C’s. He twisted it up. His other hand appeared and beckoned you to him.

You stepped up. Taehyung handed you the tube of lipstick, looking up at you, unsmiling but strangely satisfied. He produced a cheap pocket mirror from his other pocket. Held it in front of you.

You applied the red lipstick from the bullet, right onto your full lips.

Smooth, swift strokes.

Recapped the tube and handed it back to him.

Taehyung tossed it and the mirror onto the bed behind him and cupped your cheeks, kissing you right away.

damaged goods they soon forget in choking dust where we got left

Smearing the lipstick everywhere, red track-marks all over your neck and cheeks, lips and teeth working you. The satin finish was slippery, leaving streaks on his chin as well, heavy gasps of breath mixing between your bodies as you took his face in your hands, kissing him all over too, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling it back, painting smears like bloodstains all over his golden tan skin, Taehyung moaning depravedly under you.

Your teeth scraped right against his Adam’s apple and his eyelids fluttered, quickly righting themselves to look at you through his long, dark lashes.

He reached back and felt around for the tube of lipstick, holding it out to you once more.

The mirror was face up on the bed, reflecting a small slice of this particular circle of hell you and Taehyung had created in this motel room.

You took the red lipstick.

for us all the stars refuse to shine

His vest and t-shirt disappeared, suddenly fading into the background, body pushed back onto the bed by your strong hands, toned chest exposed and you climbing over him, lips painted already, quite accurately despite the mess on your face already. The tube was once again recapped, rolling across the cheap duvet. The bedsprings shrieked, metal grating against metal, but that was a common sound in this sinful place, a place where all bad deeds come to be executed.

Adultery.

Drug use.

Death.

All of the above, sometimes.

You stared into those dark brown eyes and sculpted brows, beautiful lips parted and smeared with scarlet, all the way down to his collarbones and you leaned forward, kiss prints all over his pecs, Taehyung’s rumbling deep baritone above you, noises of pleasure and praise, nonverbal but just as communicative, breath hitching as you sucked on his skin, adding purple to the red. Your tongue flicked against his dark nipple, staining it with red lipstick, the floral taste in your mouth now, but it didn’t matter. The pleasure more important, lips closing around the hardened nub, flicking it with your tongue, your hand trailing down his chest.

Taehyung touched your hand and turned one of your nails inward.

Your fingers curled and you raked your nails down his torso.

He moaned above you, arching his back to receive more pain.

so tap the vein and light the match we burn like stars before the crash

Every time, it felt better, more intense, your nails and your lips on his hot skin, his sound above your head, the depth of his voice vibrating his chest cavity. Down, down, undoing his pants, yanking down his underwear, and soon they faded into the background too, his naked body before you, covered in slashes of red lipstick, gasping for breath, dark brown eyes on yours.

He didn’t say your name, because he still didn’t know it.

There was nothing to know.

You didn’t have a name.

The orphanage picked one for you all those years ago, but it was no longer a part of you, lost in a fire that tragically killed your paper trail, turning you into a meaningless existence, merely a cog in the Circle’s machine. Cared for and shrouded by the shadows, adding you to a part of their watch.

You were a very important cog, but a cog nonetheless.

“Taehyung.”

Those brown orbs widened, stained lips parting.

“Yeah?”

There was too much fondness in that low tone.

but for you there's still a chance, just let go

You just stared at him.

His breathing deepened, swallowing hard. His long fingers buried into the cheap bedding, his eyes darkening as his chin lowered, licking his lips slowly. He watched you from underneath his lashes, cocking an eyebrow.

“Do whatever,” he finally breathed. “I’ll take anything.”

Your gaze flickered down and he was already hard. Something about your eyes. You dropped down, tongue sliding out, wetly running over the thick length. Taehyung sucked a breath through his teeth, hand coming up to wipe his mouth and plant back down on the bed, staining the sheets with marks of your meeting.

You wrapped your lips around it and it pulsed in your mouth, getting bigger as you lowered your head, still looking at his face, watching him shiver and groan at your lipstick-covered lips enveloping his throbbing cock. You took it all, hitting the back of your throat, so fucking much that you could barely breathe, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the sheer ecstasy painted over Taehyung’s handsome features, turning into drawn-out gasps as you began to move, bobbing up and down, your hands on the bed, neck straining from being stuffed full of cock. You could smell him every time you reached the base, that warm herbal scent flooding your nose, his thick length twitching in your mouth, fighting the tightness of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, tongue rubbing against the bottom, and Taehyung’s pitch hiked, biting his lip, lashes fluttering, pants shallowing.

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

He was already filling your mouth to the brim, swollen head punching the back of your throat, bruising it in all the right ways, your moans trapped in your chest as you sped up, sucking harder, your fingertips brushing against his skin and spreading the lipstick-laced saliva all over his balls, adding to the sensation, Taehyung crying out as he looked into your hyper-focused eyes, his own pupils blown so wide they seemed to overtake the iris, starless and consuming all the pleasure you gave him.

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, suddenly gasping as he came, shooting into the roof of your mouth, the scorching heat splattering against your throat and pooling there, so much and so thick that for a second you stopped to roll your eyes back, drinking his strong taste, before shoving his cock into your mouth again, fucking his cum down your throat so your were forced to gulp it down, barely breathing, enjoying your self-produced lightheadedness and Taehyung’s wail of protest, too sensitive to take your sudden rough pace, hand clawing at the air.

You slowed, licking him all over, soft, so soft, so much saliva, his stiff cock still dribbling out his orgasm for you to lap up.

His eyes on you again.

but now there's nowhere to run and yeah, there's nowhere to hide

And now you were naked, covered in red lipstick and his bites, straddling his lower torso, Taehyung licking between your breasts as you slid your ass down onto his still wet length, painted in Chanel, saliva, and cum, reaching down to reposition him at your entrance, his eyes shimmering, hazing out, high on you. Reflecting your form poised over him, a shadow with no morality.

You sank down and he moaned, low and deep, large hands on your waist and thigh, leading you. The thin walls of the motel did nothing to hide the screaming, the crying, the bed squeaks all around you two, above and below, whispers of devious deeds being performed meters away, but none of these things mattered. Your arms circled his broad shoulders and, as always, you were face to face, hawk-like, hyper-focused, and he was in front of you, fucked-out as your ass smacked into his balls, taking all of him, stretched out to an almost painful point.

He still didn’t know your name, so instead of saying it, his hand lifted and touched your chin, bringing your face to him, a slow, messy, pining kiss, your hips rolling into his, his moans wandering into your lips, eyes half-open to watch yours, your body shuddering with need, imploring you to fuck harder, rougher, to chase your pleasure, to chase it without abandon. You shoved Taehyung down onto the bed and smacked your hips into his, hissing at the jarring sensation of your tight hole being violently expanded by his long, thick length, nails digging into his tan skin. Taehyung harmonized with your lewd moans, husky depth adding to your heavy pants, following your rhythm and bouncing his ass on the hard mattress, hitting your deeper and more forcefully.

His hand fitted over yours, locking his fingers in between your spread ones, clutching tight, louder, louder, metal bedsprings screaming, your pants shallowing, staring down at Taehyung’s face covered with scarlet lipstick smears and dark brown curls sticking to his forehead.

what would it take for you to notice that i am a hand grenade pin already pulled so don't let go 

You wiggled your hips, smacking his hardness against your walls and clenching down, ruining yourself, ruining him, feral cries and satisfied hisses mixing with Taehyung’s deep baritone, one of his hands interlocked around yours, time ticking down and ready to detonate, trapped in the murky expanse of Taehyung’s brown orbs, heartbeat roaring in your ears, so loud it felt like it was the only sound you could hear, everything fading out except Taehyung’s face and you bouncing onto his cock, nails digging into his pecs.

“Taehyung…”

Your voice, wretched.

Like a guitar string snapping suddenly while being played.

You threw your head back, overtaken by the explosive fire racing through your gasoline veins, ignited by your orgasm shattering through your core and firing upwards, pussy convulsing and clutching Taehyung’s cock mercilessly, making his eyes roll back and his head slam into the pillows, knuckles white as he gripped your hand tight, whining on the top of his lungs, the high shooting from you to him, cock jolting and spurting thick gushes of cum upwards, right into you.

A violent crescendo of illicit ecstasy.

Someone smashed something against the wall next door, most likely a lamp.

You slumped onto Taehyung’s chest, body trembling with shivers of pleasure. His torso rumbled, struggling for breath, releasing your hand and wrapping his arms around you. Nothing romantic about being covered in red lipstick, saliva, and cum dribbling out of your hole.

Taehyung shoved his chin into your hair and trapped you there for a long while.

as we chase the sun my shadow slows us down

You didn’t say anything as he cleaned you up and you cleaned him up, both sitting in the narrow, half-full, yellowed tub, far too close together, practically in each other’s lap, using bleached hotel towels to wipe off the lipstick and cum with lukewarm water.

You raised your head, hair stringy and clinging to your skin.

His dark hair was plastered to his natural glowing tan.

You leaned forward.

Taehyung waited.

You pressed your lips to his.

A touch.

you're better off and i know

You drew back.

Remembering your gun sitting on the table outside the bathroom.

Remembering the man that you had shot hours before, staging it like a suicide.

What did that man do? You didn’t ask, didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. An old man who maybe had grandkids, great-grandkids. Maybe he ruined the lives of his hired labor, staining them with sin. Maybe he was at the wrong time and wrong place. Maybe he was guiltier than you, taking victims and leaving them to suffer with traumatic memories that could ever be erased.

You stared into Taehyung’s eyes, feeling no remorse.

Taehyung took your hand.

Squeezed it tight, so tight his knuckles were white and it felt like your fingers were being crushed.

You let him hold it for ten seconds.

Then you reached over and peeled his fingers off, one by one.

Got out of the tub, picking up the towel from the ground. Drying off your body, not looking at him. Put your clothes back on, hair still wet and cold. Holster on, jacket over it. The second you opened the motel door, you were the drunken, unstable prostitute once again, mumbling under your breath, speaking to voices unknown, pointedly ignored and avoided by everyone around you, even as you stumbled through the city, wet hair swinging, the only reminder that Taehyung had been with you, dripping water onto the sidewalk.

You looked down at your hand.

The hand that could kill.

The hand Kim Taehyung squeezed and would squeeze again, barring you didn’t kill yourself by being in the murder business. When Taehyung finally got out of the bath, he would once again find the large wad of cash you had left.

Money was never the drive.

Kim Taehyung made anonymous donations to various charities in your stead, his accounting background knowing exactly how to fumble the numbers and names. He and you would never be suspected. He was a real human being, one who cared about those around him. He would know where to put the money, know how needed it most. You wouldn’t.

You didn’t know anything about compassion.

You didn’t know anything about kindness.

You didn’t know anything about love.

you're better off and i know and i know

--

masterpost

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Maybe a little late to the party, but Seteth and/or Hawks for the character bingo?

Thank you for breaking the seal, my friend. I have been dying to give my thoughts on this character.

Just for context, the less opaque lilies is just me being a little facetious. Not here to make completely objective, absolute judgements; just here to have a good time. They're there just because I can't like a favorite character a normal amount.

His design? *chef's kiss* A delightfully balanced, simple-yet-ornate, straightforward, appealing masculine character design! The back of the cape, robe (sorry, folks, it clearly takes inspiration from the cassock, but for me it's a little too different from a standard cassock to call it that) and boots are all dark, creating a solid, imposing silhouette. The length of both cape and robe - and specifically from the front with the light cape lining - modestly shows off his conventionally attractive masculine figure.

No matter the wide, medium, or close up shots of him in any given scene you'll find all of these light, little ornament details that are not too distracting but are nonetheless elegant and sensibly placed. Assuming he's chosen to dress this way for himself as it's not like any uniform we've seen in the game, it's quite the interesting insight.

From a writing standpoint - he's so constantly full of little surprises?! Especially if you played Crimson Flower first, it's easy to get this overly stern, controlling, stubborn, intolerant, and insensitive impression of him; and it feels like a lot of players may have gotten stuck there because they didn't realize you have to read a lot into where he comes from and the person he used to be to really get the full scope of his character and how he thinks. Even as far back when you get his and Flayn's paralouge mission and notice his interrogations of Rhea in the school phase, the veil begins to lift if you pay attention.

He particularly shines in Silver Snow by virtue of being Byleth's advisor, and we get a lot of extra personal insight into him in that route that we don't get in any other - rarely ever directly or completely controlling tactical plans but nonetheless being indispensable and diligent in his role, lacking key information that we would assume he'd be privy to, proposing the single most culture-shaking lore drop of any character in the series (of which he was the single most diligent person hiding it up to that point) because the secrets cause nothing but trouble, and so on.

And the best part about it all is that it's easy to perceive him as this great, unflappable, pedestal-worthy mythical figure until you look a little closer and realize he was just Some Guy™ working at what was a random church at the time (maybe he was a priest?) who didn't get Thanos-snapped off the map when the rest of his species got nuked in a single night.

He is ultimately a very boring and straightforward person who has done awe-inspiring, difficult, and unbelievable things because he had to, and that's very sexy of him.

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED on how well his faith and spirituality is woven into who he is and why he does the things he does. The man has lost functionally everything from his old life and has basically given up any hope at living a happy, peaceful life with the much long-lasting companionship he craves to have.

Enter Byleth, this scraggly little nobody weirdo who shows up out of nowhere and turns the monastery on its head, magically fuses with THE Goddess, takes on major species identifiers that he assumed he'd never see again, drops off the face of the earth for five years after a major battle that changed the tide of history, and then she (I personally view F!Byleth as canon) just shows up one day again and says, "Hi! Sorry I was out. Fell asleep."

"Yes, yes that right. You fell asleep after sustaining heavy damage. Never woke up until you were done. Hey, it happens! Good to see you, by the way, want to help end a war? Oh thank you, Sothis, for the first break I've had in a millennium and it's a damn good one!" It's a wonder he didn't faint on the spot.

Things in life hit a little different when you're fundamentally religious in a way that can be hard to communicate. I rarely get to see that written very well so to see it in Seteth is quite the treat. He's a character whose historical plaque says, "It is said that he was a compassionate yet stern figure whose faith was so true he was able to perform miracles." yet you first meet him you can tell he's actively in the middle of a crisis of faith if you know where to look. By choosing to befriend him and develop him as a unit and a character, you help him grow and heal and move on in a way that's so respectful to him as a hypothetical person; and it was treated with so much care, particularly his religious world view, that it was especially moving to me and something I'm kind of sad I haven't seen discussed in the bits and pieces of fandom I've found so far. (Might get to see more with the new game!!!! *rubs hands together*)

Charming, intriguing, delightful, emotive, intelligent, compassionate, flawed, reasonable, fascinating, surprisingly relatable. Seteth gets an S rank with me. (And an S-support, too.)

[daitranscripts]

Here Lies the Abyss Pt. 6

Plan of Attack

Here Lies The Abyss Masterpost First: The Champion of Kirkwall Previous: Blood Magic

The PC speaks to Hawke.

Hawke: I’m ready to strike at Adamant whenever you are.

Dialogue options:

Investigate: Why do you hate blood magic?

Investigate: Why do you hate blood magic? PC: At the Western Approach, you had strong feelings about blood magic. Hawke: Blood magic has always been contentious. I had friends who thought it was monstrous, and others who found it no different from any other magic. Hawke (sided mages): But after watching First Enchanter Orsino destroy himself, after I defended him, after what happened to my own mother… It is too dangerous. Any mage who justifies its use eventually goes too far.   Hawke (sided templars): But after watching the mages tear Kirkwall apart, after what happened to my own mother… It is too dangerous. Any mage who justifies its use eventually goes too far.  

Scene continues.

The PC talks to the Warden.

Alistair: I can’t stand this. How many Grey Wardens died here? And for what? Erimond and the Wardens are definitely holed up at Adamant Fortress, by the way. Don’t know if Hawke told you.

Loghain: Did Hawke tell you? We tracked Erimond to Adamant Fortress. Idiots. So devoted to their cause that they abandoned all common sense.

Stroud: We tracked Erimond to Adamant Fortress. Hopefully we can stop this madness before it goes any further.

Hawke and Varric are talking in the hallway outside of the war room as the PC makes their way to plan with the Advisors.

Hawke: I tracked that Venatori mage back to Adamant Fortress. They’re looking at assault options now in the war room.

Varric: Thanks for coming.

Hawke: You did well, Varric. The Inquisitor is… just who we need.

Varric: Oh, it’s been great. Murderous Wardens, Archdemons attacks, plenty of blood mages, and crazy templars. Just like home.

Hawke: I know how much you hated leaving Kirkwall.

Varric: This is the ass end of Thedas. You know they eat snails out here? Still, I think… I need to finish this out. If it weren’t for me and Bartrand, none of this would have happened. So much for changing our lives.

Hawke: That’s what happens when you try to change things. Things change. You can’t always control how.

The PC heads into the war room, where the advisors are waiting.

Leliana: Adamant Fortress has stood against the darkspawn since the time of the Second Blight.

Cullen: Fortunately for us, that means it was built before the age of modern siege equipment. A good trebuchet will do major damage to those ancient walls. And thanks to our lady ambassador…

Josephine: Lady Seryl of Jader was pleased to lend the Inquisition her sappers. They’ve already delivered the trebuchets.

Leliana: That is the good news.

Dialogue options:

General: I’m listening. [1]

General: Yes, but what about demons? [2]

General: We’ll destroy them. [3]

1 - General: I’m listening. PC: And the bad news? Leliana: Erimond called the ritual at the Western Approach a test. He may already be raising his army of demons in the fortress. [4]

2 - General: Yes, but what about demons? PC: None of that accounts for the Wardens summoning a giant demon army. Leliana: That is the bad news. [4]

3 - General: We’ll destroy them. PC: If the fortress is vulnerable, let’s just pound it to rubble. Leliana: Even with the trebuchets, that would take months. That gives Erimond more than enough time to summon his demon army. [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Cullen: The Inquisition forces can breach the gate, but if the Wardens already have their demons…

Leliana: I found records of Adamant’s construction. There are choke points we can use to limit the field of battle.

Cullen: That’s good. We may not be able to defeat them outright…But if we cut off reinforcements, we can carve you a path to Warden-Commander Clarel.

Dialogue options:

General: This will be bloody. [5]

General: There’s no other way? [6]

General: Let’s do it. [7]

5 - General: This will be bloody. PC: Taking this fortress is going to get a lot of good soldiers killed. Josephine: Our soldiers know the risks, Inquisitor. And they know what they’re fighting for. [8]

6 - General: There’s no other way? PC: So our plan is to lay siege to a legendary fortress filled with demons? [8]

7 - General: Let’s do it. PC: It sounds like our best option. [8]

8 - Scene continues.

Cullen: It’ll be hard-fought, no way around it. But we’ll get that gate open.

Josephine: It’s also possible that some Wardens may be sympathetic to our cause.

Leliana: The warriors may be willing to listen to reason, though I doubt they will turn against Clarel directly. The mages, however, are slaves to Corypheus. They will fight to the death.

If the PC has enough power to begin Adamant: Cullen: We’ve built the siege engines and readied our forces, Inquisitor. Give the word, and we march on Adamant.

If the PC does not have enough power to begin Adamant: Cullen: We’re working hard on the siege engines, but they will take some time to finish. In the meantime, I suggest we bolster our military strength.

Next: The Siege of Adamant

[crossdressingdeath]

Leliana didn't just approach an old friend about a job at the Inquisition. She literally tested Josie to see if she had the integrity that Leliana felt was needed for the position. Even though she knew that Josie was darn good at her job. Cassandra meanwhile listens to Varric's tale about the failure that is Cu||en and goes 'right, he can be the commander'. Then she spends the entire game being unhappy with everything he does (according to the messengers) lol.

Oh, I forgot! I love how the game can't even give us a decent reason for why he's even there. 'Cassandra sought a solution' Really? Her 'solution' to the mage-templar crisis was to get an awful Templar who was the second-in-command at one if the worst Circles in Thedas? Gee won't that make the mages feel safe! Such a dumb move.

That's Curly has collecting elfroot as his main job while Leliana and Josie takes care of the actual important stuff. Why couldn't we get a dwarven commander, Bioware!?!

Honestly I'm kind of glad we didn't get a dwarf commander, given all the trouble DAI has with cutscenes and camera angles if you're playing a dwarf (or Qunari, for that matter). Hell, even Bull's scale compared to the rest of the cast seems to vary somewhat depending on the cutscene. I cannot imagine any of the scenes around the war table quite working properly with a dwarf advisor; remember how Quiz will suddenly magically become human-sized in some cutscenes (the most notable example I can think of being kissing Dorian) because they didn't figure out alternate animations for a Quiz with radically different proportions to a human? I guess it might have been better handled with a character meant to be a dwarf from the start (if memory serves the ability to play as a non-human was a pretty late addition in DAI, so I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't enough time to make sure everything worked properly with a dwarf), but still.

But yeah, Leliana chose Josie because a) Josie was a trusted friend who'd proved her worth as a diplomat a thousand times over and b) Josie passed Leliana's little test to make sure she had the necessary integrity for the role. Meanwhile... okay, Cassandra listened to Varric's stories about DA2, including how Cullen was an active and enthusiastic participant in Meredith's atrocities (up until a human noble who could and would kick his ass was in the firing line, that is, and even it wasn't so much him helping Hawke as it was him being too much of a coward to get in Hawke's way despite him openly agreeing with Meredith's beliefs), was heavily involved with Meredith's death squads, argued in favour of using the Rite of Tranquility more widely, and openly believed mages weren't people. Cassandra listened to Varric telling her about all of that. And then she apparently decided that oh yeah, that guy would be a great choice for commander of the Inquisition. If nothing else putting a Templar who hates and fears mages into a position where he is likely to have to interact with mages isn't going to be great for either side. Unless of course the Inquisition was originally going to be a Chantry organization tied heavily to the remaining Templars with no mages allowed in any position of rank and with the goal of restoring the status quo and shoving the mages back under the Templars' thumb, which wouldn't mesh well with Cassandra's insistence that it's definitely not a Chantry organization or the claims that Justinia was pro-mage. ...Actually, the only reason to put Cullen in charge of the military is if the Inquisition was initially supposed to court the rogue Templars into joining them to the exclusion of all else; Meredith's second-in-command would be very appealing to the sort of person to rebel against the Chantry because the Divine told them to hold off on murdering people for a bit! And not at all appealing to... anyone else, if only because his total refusal to engage in anything at all political means he's constantly a dick to the Inquisition's noble allies.

But honestly Cassandra picking Cullen as the commander even though he's a terrible choice in every way except "he knows what end to hold a sword by" has big "kid in the group project who forgot to do their part until the last day" energy. Like... Leliana finds this incredibly skilled and experienced diplomat who she knows personally and trusts absolutely, and then tests her just to be absolutely sure she can be relied on to act with integrity! And then she tells Cassandra about this and asks how the search for a commander is going, and Cassandra goes "Oh shit, right, that was my job" and grabs Cullen just because he happened to be in the area and she needed someone to show Leliana. No idea why Leliana accepted this choice given she disagrees with Cullen on every point and also hates him personally (presumably especially if the Warden is a mage, especially especially if the Warden is a female mage who romanced Leliana), and frankly she probably would've respected Cassandra more for just admitting she'd forgotten about the commander, but there we are.

[melzula]

The Gift

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: this was requested by an anon!

summary: Zuko and Princess celebrate the opening of her new water bending school

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

You rise before the sun to prepare for the busy day ahead of you. You’d only been crowned Chief two months ago but already you found yourself busy with countless tasks and duties assigned to you by your people. However, you gracefully took each challenge head on, and despite being home for such a short time you’d already accomplished so much.

With the help of your friends you’d managed to dethrone Koa and begin a new era of peace and rebuilding in the South; there was much to do and no time to waste when it came to helping your people, and with assistance from Pakku and members from your sister Tribe you were able to begin the period of growth in no time. Aid had been sent out to the smaller tribes who were being looked after and rebuilt by the men who wished to rectify their wrongs after turning against their Princess in support of the former advisor. Leading them was Hakoda, Sokka and Katara’s father as well as your new advisor. Already the outer tribes were beginning to grow, and with that growth came the discovery of the next generation of water benders.

Before his departure back to the Earth Kingdom Sokka had helped you construct the plans for your new water bending school, and with two months having come and gone the structure was almost complete. Another day or so and you’d be ready to begin your teaching— both younger children of your tribe and a few migrants from the South would be your students, and with Master Pakku’s help you had no doubt your school would be a success.

Many sleepless nights and countless hours of work came with being the Chief of a tribe that was attempting to rebuild itself, yet you still made sure to send letters to Zuko whenever you could. You swore to him before his leave back to the Fire Kingdom that you’d reply to his letters and inform him of any more trouble you faced, and so you found yourself writing back and forth with your boyfriend at least three times a week thanks to your shared messenger hawk. You would have preferred to meet in the secret tunnel, but both of you were much too busy now to escape to your hideaway, so you settled for communication through scrolls.

The sun is just beginning to rise as you adorn the Chieftain necklace and allow the Water Tribe emblem to fall proudly against your chest. Your father would have been proud, and you wish he could see all the things you’ve accomplished for your people.

You slip on your parka and give a wistful glance at the portrait of Zuko that sits on your dresser (a portrait that is accompanied by the doll he’d given to you long ago) before making your way towards your office to get started on the plans for the day. The early mornings were always reserved for scripts and scrolls, it made things more organized and helped the plans ease along nicely, and it also allowed you some quiet time to yourself before you were pulled every which way throughout your day.

You’re not sure how long you sat with your nose buried in paperwork, but by the time your mother steps into your office the morning sun is high in the sky and your people have begun their tasks for the day. She smiles fondly and approaches with a cup of tea in her hands, the cup being a part of the china set Iroh had sent Zuko with months before.

“Well you’re up awfully early,” she notes while carefully setting your tea before you.

“I have a lot to catch up on before the opening of the new school. Pakku brought me a list of possible students and I’m going through each and every one to make sure their needs will be met if they choose to participate in lessons.”

“About that...”

“What?” You prod, immediately looking away from your paperwork and towards your mom. She has a giddy smile on her face and a glint in her eye that she fails to hide from you.

“Would you like to go for a walk? I think we should go for a walk,” she replies, quickly changing the subject and hoisting you out of your seat before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Mom!” You try to interject, but she simply brushes off your comments and concerns.

“It really is so nice out today,” she hums gleefully. Guards gift you friendly smiles or respectful bows as you pass, and outside the palace you are greeted with excited commotion.

“What the flameo is going??” You say exasperated. Your gaze settles upon your school in the distance and a confused frown etches itself across your features at the sight of a crowd around the building. You weren’t exactly expecting any students just yet, and the school wasn’t meant to open for another day or two. You also weren’t sure why exactly there was a blanketed structure in the courtyard of the school; you hadn’t authorized any additional features, so what was it?

“Took you long enough,” Pakku greets you both with a smile. Little children stand around him and look upon you with pure glee and excitement. You recognize a few of them from your list, but you hadn’t even reached out to their families yet to ask for permission for their participation in your water bending lessons.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on here?” You plead desperately. Pakku and your mother grin.

“Why, we’re celebrating the opening of your new school, of course,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“The opening? But nothing’s ready!”

“Actually, everything is ready,” your mother corrects with a smile. “You’ve been so busy running around trying to get everything in order, so Pakku and I took it upon ourselves to finish up the school for you. All you have to do is say the word and your water bending school will officially be open!”

“Well, we did have some help from the Fire Lord...”

“Zuko?” You retort with furrowed brows. “How did Zuko help?”

“You’ll see,” your mother replies giddily. “Are you ready to open your school?”

It takes you a moment to process the whirlwind of information that’s been given to you in a matter of minutes, but you can’t deny the relief you feel at knowing that the work has been taken care of for you. The first promise you’d made as Chief was to restore water bending in your tribe, and to know you were mere moments away from completing the task was a weight lifted off of your shoulders. All the little children look upon you eagerly, and it’s with a confident smile that you look to your people that have gathered around the school and proudly hold your head up high.

“As Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, it is my great honor and pride to announce the official opening of our school for water benders,” you announce. Your mother beams with pride at the sight of your first big accomplishment as Chief as she gives an agreeing nod to Pakku.

“And to celebrate this great achievement, we have a gift for Chief y/n,” he adds. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“A gift?” You repeat, watching as he pulls a scroll from his coat and begins to read off of the paper.

“I, Fire Lord Zuko, would like to show my excitement and support for the rebuilding of the Southern Water Tribe by offering this gift for Chief y/n. I know it’s impossible to capture her real life beauty, grace, and compassion, but I believe this gift does a pretty good job of displaying her greatness for all to see.”

The blanket is removed from the structure, and all including you gasp in awe at the sight before you; a statue in your likeness stands in the center of the courtyard. Your face holds a warm and benevolent smile, your head held high with a fire lily neatly tucked into your hair, and your hands are held out before you right on top of left as a circle of water swirls in between them. You look regal, elegant, like a perfect Princess and water bender.

“I... I can’t believe it,” you murmur in awe. Your mother smiles.

“Zuko sent me a letter a few weeks back to tell me he planned on commissioning a statue for you— a gift for your accomplishments. I told him it was a wonderful idea and agreed to have it sent here the moment it was finished to celebrate the opening of your school.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say with a teary eyed smile.

“You know, that Zuko is quite the catch. Does he know you’re of marrying age?” Your mother asks with a sly smile.

“Mom!” You exclaim embarrassed. She laughs.

“What? It doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“It’s a little too early for that,” you reply with a sheepish laugh. “Besides, I’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“You’re right about that,” Pakku says, pulling you aside. “Are you ready to meet your new students, Chief y/n?”

“Actually,” you reply with a coy smile, casting a glance towards your statue, “it’s Sifu y/n when class is in session.”

“Sifu y/n it is,” he agrees with a smile before guiding you into the school to begin training your new students.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @simpinforsukka @sirkekselord @protect-remus @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @taeeemin @user12345321 @just--artemis--with--ghost @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @neighborhoodpansexualdisaster @noodlesfluffy @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch |