#i love lance but i must speak the truth when i see it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fe-fictions · 5 months

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Are there any other bath tent prompts left over from The Great Deletion™? (If so, I have a preference for Lon'qu. If not, I just reeeally like bath tent prompts so anyone flies.)

(I have Frederick's still mercifully, but other than that I don't have any left! ;; 3 ;; which sucks because the Basilio and Vaike ones were rly good U m U )

When Frederick heard your scream across camp, he was terrified. Had you been assaulted? Ambushed, or worse?

He grabbed his lance and sprinted off, rushing towards your cries and curses when he found himself in the midst of a very strange scene.

There stood Lord Chrom, the flaps to the women’s bathing tent wide open, and dozens of projectiles. He quickened his pace with the intent to drag Chrom out of the line of fire and engage whoever was throwing things at him.

However, when he came in sight of the thrower, he realized it was you; wrapped crudely in a towel, soaked from head to toe with suds still running along your skin, mid-throw of the last soap dish. His grip tightened on Chrom’s arm. The Exalt was peeping on his wife.

“Would someone please explain what in the gods’ names is going on?!” Frederick demanded icily, quick to turn Chrom away from his view of you. He had yet to release the man, much to his discomfort.

“I-I was just looking for Robin to ask her a question, Frederick! I didn’t realize where I was until she started screaming, a-and then…it was an accident, I swear! I didn’t mean to-”

“Accident?!” You suddenly jumped in, storming over to the pair now covered with your coat. Your face was a deep scarlet, fury barely overruling your embarrassment. “It’s the women’s bath! How hard is it for you to see that?!”

“She has a point, milord. Surely you should be familiar with the camp’s layout.” Frederick replied, narrowing his eyes at Chrom. “I find it hard to believe you capable of this, but it brings me terrible sorrow and, dare I say, fury, to see you staring at my wife.” He said, and had Chrom shaking in his boots.

“F-Frederick I swear, I didn’t mean to peep on her, a-and that’s the truth!” Chrom would’ve disappeared if he could. “Please Frederick, Robin’s my best friend! I’d never jeopardize that.”

“I wish to believe you, milord,” Frederick said in a clipped tone as he released the Exalt. He sighed sharply and came to your side, “However, your actions speak louder than your words. For now, return to your duties until I summon you for proper disciplinary action. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” Chrom sounded meek and frightened; two things you never thought him capable of.

You watched him trudge off for a few moments before Frederick guided you away, taking your hand tightly in his. The ridged, angry confliction in his expression had yet to fade.

“Until I make my decision, we should get you properly dressed. If I’m not mistaken, I believe you’re in need of clothes beneath that coat.”

“Y-you’re not.” You blushed, the adrenaline and shock of what happened to you slowly starting to fade. Frederick picked up on the warble in your voice swiftly, and could see the unshed tears glistening in your eyes.

He made good time returning to the tent, latching the flap shut and making sure it was absolutely secure. Then he turned his full attention to you, assessing the situation.

You looked down at your feet, your hand never once letting go of his. You had been mortified, and now that the anger cleared, you were nothing short of ashamed.

Wordlessly he detached his chestplate and the armor about his upper body, knowing precisely what you needed. You barely got a question out of your mouth before he drew you into his embrace.

“F-Frederick…?”

“Forgive me. I was not diligent enough in protecting you.” He murmured in a soft, remorseful whisper that had you frozen. “I failed you, and for that, I must apologize to you, my love.”

“You’re not the one who walked in on me.” You giggled weakly, but reciprocated his hug all the same. You buried your face in his chest, your hot tears dampening his clothes along with your soaking hair.

Frederick didn’t mind it. His fingers gently stroked your hair, the guilt that racked him far more powerful than his anger.

“All is well, my sweet. I highly doubt he did such a thing on purpose. The odds of him speaking to anyone about it is minimum, and if he even considers it I’ll be swift to punish. …Severely.”

All you could do was nod against him, calming yourself down slowly with the help of his gentle touches and reassurances.

At some point he settled you on the bedroll, fetched a towel and worked on drying your hair very gently. His tender touch soothes your shame, all the anxiety and fear you felt as a result of the mad debacle starting to ebb away.

You sigh after some time and bury your face in your hands, letting him continue his sweet ministrations.

“I can’t believe he did that…he saw me, Frederick. Gods, I’m never gonna live it down. It was so embarrassing…and then for you to come and see him, too…” You groaned, and he frowned softly.

“I think no less of you for what happened; you needn’t be ashamed.” He assured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “It was an extremely unfortunate accident…at least, that is how I prefer to view it unless evidence proves otherwise.”

“You really want it to be an accident, don’t you?” You mumbled, slowly turning to look at him. Frederick shifted some and gave a soft grunt, brow furrowed.

“I know that Lady Emmeryn raised him properly, and I was quite strict and attentive, myself. He was brought up with strong morals, and the idea of him peeping on anyone, let alone you, my beloved, is difficult to believe. Lord Chrom is well known for being oblivious, after all.”

“Even to this level?” You replied, unconvinced.

“I wish to punish him severely, my sweet. There is a rage…white and hot that is building whenever I think that he looked upon you…gods, it is infuriating. However, he is also my liege, and the years we’ve spent together, I simply…I find it hard to believe he’d do it on purpose.”

“I want to believe it, too. I hope that your investigation brings about an innocent Exalt.” You offered with a tired sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Frederick set the towel aside and drew his arms around you, his soothing warmth returning and relaxing your tension.

“As do I. …However, regardless of the results, he will still receive harsh punishment.” He stated seriously, making you smile against his skin.

“Harsh, you say? How harsh would you be?”

“Well, we mustn’t forget that it was my wife he looked upon. Therefore, if he did it purposely, he will be worked until his limbs cannot be lifted anymore. Verbal reprimands will carry on for several hours, followed by an extensive lesson on conduct in the army, and three times the chores for the following year.”

“My goodness.” You blushed, “How valiant of you.”

“It is the least I can do for you, Robin. Besides, that’s only off the top of my head. I still have plenty of options to think up.”

“Look at you, defending me as knight and husband.” You smirked up at him, brushing your fingers across his cheek. He took your hand gently and kissed your fingertips, beaming at you.

“I swore to do so, did I not?”

“You did, however…I feel as though I should repay you for your efforts.”

“There is no need for a reward. Easing your worries and bringing justice to milord is reward enough.”

“Then perhaps you could help me with something, instead. So long as you don’t think of it like a reward, it should work just fine.”

"What’s that?”

“Well, Chrom’s eyes did wander a bit. He saw an awful lot of me, you know.” You began, fiddling with the buttons on your coat. “And…I’m not wearing anything beneath this.”

Frederick was very quick to catch on, and grasped your waist, turning you into the bedding and helping you remove the coat.

“Tell me where he looked at you, my precious wife…I will erase his gaze from your body.” He promised with a swift, deep kiss, which was quick to delve into far deeper, sweeter intimacy between you.

Chrom didn’t really see anything, thanks to the thickness of the steam. However, you weren’t about to tell Frederick that, especially not after he ravished you so (and punished Chrom for his foolishness promptly after. The poor Exalt couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks afterwards).

#frederick #robin #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fe awakening #fe: awakening #fredrobin #frederick x robin #f!mu #f!robin #fem!robin #bath tent #bath tent prompt #hurt and comfort #but mostly just fluff #fred works so hard to stay composed #but we know he would work chrom into the dirt over smth like that LOL

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badsongpetey · 5 months

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The Water Guardian (aka Cryptid Keith AU) Part 8

And so Lance falls into an easy pattern with his new cryptid friend. Every week he brings books to an eagerly awaiting Keith, and steadily the conversations between them become less and less strained. Lance has discovered that he and Keith share similar tastes. Keith loves graphic novels, and in addition to adventure and fantasy stories, has a penchant for horror. The scary monster in the haunted waterfall loves horror, go figure.

Lance would be lying if he hadn’t hoped to get Keith to open up more about his mysterious past, because what’s the fun of having a supernatural friend without learning his cosmic secrets, right? But as the weeks turn to months, Keith remains as reluctant as ever to broach the subject. And strangely, Lance finds himself minding less and less.

Keith, contrary to first impressions, is actually funny. Okay, his sense of humor is definitely an acquired taste, but it’s there, and he frequently has Lance laughing out loud. And stranger still, Keith is just fun to hang out with. He’s smart, and creative, and passionate about the things he cares for. Sure, he’s still stubborn and annoying and almost ridiculously oblivious at times, but in a ways that challenge Lance to be better instead of frustrating him.

Introducing Keith to more modern stories has also opened up a world of questions for the dragon. Every week he hounds Lance for answers: What’s the internet? What’s a TV show? And why do people binge eat them on streams? These are tough to answer as the area where Keith lives is the deadest of dead zones, a fact Lance attributes more to Keith himself than any feature of technology or geography.

In return for Lance’s knowledge, Keith shows him his world. Lance learns secrets of the forest; meets a host of wild animals — some friendlier than others, stupid chipmunks; and is dazzled with dragon magic tricks.

They swim, and hike, and make up stupid challenges to see who can best the other. He even hatches a scheme to camp out and surprise Keith with his first ever movie night. Keith’s face, transfixed as he watches some of Lance’s favorite flicks on his laptop, is something Lance finds far more compelling than the movies themselves. Somewhere along the line, without being fully aware of it, Lance realizes that Keith has gone from being a friend in name only, to one of his best friends.

And speaking of best friends, it crosses his mind more than once that he’s never invited them to come visit Keith. Hunk really should get to meet the dragon he thought was going to eat them, he knows Hunk and Keith would be good friends. And Pidge would be maniacal with glee over the discovery of a whole new species. On second thought, maybe keeping Pidge away is for the best. Keith might actually be forced to eat them in self defense.

Lance tells himself that he’ll introduce them when the time is right, but truth is, he likes having Keith’s friendship to himself. And he tries his best to ignore the weird little flutter thing that his heart does when Keith comes bounding out of the woods like an excited puppy to greet him. Who wouldn’t be excited to have a magical being for a secret friend, right? Of course right, there’s no other explanation.

“Are there any other dragons?” Lance asks one afternoon as they lay sunning themselves on the warm rocks after a swim.

When he’s met with silence, he looks over at Keith unmoving on the rocks beside to him.

“I was just thinking, you know, there must be more dragons out there, besides you and your parents. Maybe, you’ve run into them?” Lance elaborates.

Keith is still quiet, and Lance is about to chalk this one up to things they don’t talk about when…

“I don’t know. I’ve never left my waters.”

Lance sits up. “You’ve never left?” He asks incredulously. “Not once in a century? You’ve just been here all alone?”

Keith is sitting now too, and his brow furrows in response.

“Look,” Lance sighs, “I know there are things you don’t want to discuss, but… I dunno, I worry about you, here all alone.”

“I’m not alone, I have you.”

“And I’m incredible, I know. I mean, you’re not gonna find better than me, human or dragon, that’s a given.” Lance replies over the soft sound of Keith’s scoffs. “But I’m still just one guy, and, well, aren’t you curious? At all?”

Keith frowns and looks away, his established way of shutting down a conversation.

Lance huffs in frustration. “Keith, part of being friends is talking about stuff. Friends talk. They care about each other and help each other, and trust each other. I’m just hoping that maybe you trust me.”

Lance stares at the back of Keith’s head and wonders if he just ruined a friendship and not merely a perfectly nice afternoon. But he’s reached a point with Keith where he wants more. He can’t keep walking on eggshells whenever the subject of Keith’s past comes up, and he’s at a loss about what else he can do.

“My mom, before she… passed… she made me promise to never leave here. To never look for any others. She said it was too dangerous. And it’s been hard, but it was the only thing she asked of me.” Keith’s voice quavers as he replies.

“Keith, I… I’m so sorry, but she couldn’t have wanted you to be all alone for so long…”

“You don’t understand!” Keith snaps, turning around, eyes filling with tears, cutting Lance off mid-sentence.

“Dragons don’t just take care of a body of water, we’re bound to it. A water dragon cannot be, cannot exist, without this bond. My mom came here when she was still pregnant with me. She never told me where she’d come from, only that she came here to protect me. Her magic was strong and she was able to sever her old bond and forge a new one here.”

Lance sits slack-jawed and stunned as the story comes pouring out of Keith.

“Normally, when a young dragon comes of age they find their own place, their own bond. But, I couldn’t go…” Keith hiccups out a sob, “I couldn’t leave, and she couldn’t leave, and… and… she gave her bond to me. She gave it up so I could live. And she… she…”

Keith’s voice breaks as he cries and Lance is moving before he even decides to. He wraps himself around his friend and Keith just collapses in his arms, releasing a grief held for longer than Lance can imagine.

“I’m here now.” He whispers into Keith’s hair. “I’m here and I won’t let you be alone ever again.” He promises. And Lance never breaks a promise.

#klance #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #water guardian au #dragon keith #klance au

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sezja · 8 months

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Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Takes place one year after Silenced.

"Stand still," Mother snaps, swatting Raicheille's shoulder as though she's an insect in need of a good squishing. "And stop slouching, girl! You've no figure yet to speak of; we must pin all of our hopes on your face. Gods help us."

I inherited it from you, you old sow, she doesn't dare say, straightening her shoulders even further, stretching her spine until it creaks. Her new dress clings in uncomfortable places, telling earnest but unconvincing lies about the shape of her beneath it. As though anyone would believe it. Her betrothed-to-be will be a fellow wildwood, of course, and everyone knows elezen don't begin properly growing until their twentieth year, give or take.

At fifteen summers, she feels like a dodo pretending to be a chocobo.

"You will be gracious," Father says. His voice is cold, stern, as though she's one of his hired lances. "You will speak only when it is required of you, or you will suffer the consequences of your disobedience."

She fights the urge to shudder.

There's every reason the new dress covers her from the neck down, hiding the bruises and welts she's earned over the past year.

Nourval wouldn't let them do this to me.

"Do not bite your lip," Mother snaps again, seizing Raicheille's chin between cruel fingers, not quite hard enough to bruise. "Do not sulk at your father, you ungrateful trollop; were it not for your interference, none of this would be necessary! Your uncle had it all well in hand!"

"Yes- yes, Mother."

Had it all well in hand is, Rai thinks, a very diplomatic way to describe the attempted murder of an officer of the Twin Adder, in an effort to frame visiting Ala Mhigan diplomats for the crime - it'd been her interference, yes, that'd alerted Captain Smyth to the plot. But she'd only ever wanted her brother to be freed from prison; beyond that, she hadn't really cared what became of it all. Not really.

She hasn't seen Nourval since. Her last memory of her brother is of him lying half-dead in the tall grass, and Captain Smyth sending her dashing off for a healer.

He's alive, at least. She knows that much. If her parents would let him see her...

But no. They'd told the Adders charming lies, pleading their ignorance, pleading their innocence, and so Raicheille was returned to the loving arms of her parents. If only someone had thought to ask her what her parents might have known... but who ever cared what one scrawny girl knew?

Captain Sanson cared, she thinks, idly, fighting the urge to rub her throbbing jaw while her parents aren't looking.

Today is her chance at redemption, her parents have told her, endlessly, for the past week. Marriage is a time-honored contract, sealing alliances between the families of Gridania's oldest families - those who long for the old ways, before Gridania opened her gates to outsiders; before Ala Mhigo brought war to her doorstep and pushed Gridania to the brink. Before Vainchelon's death. Rai has known all her life that she'd be handed over into the keeping of some tradition-minded man or other...

But that was before she knew the truth about it all.

Now she wants to run screaming into the Shroud, hopefully to be eaten by some wild beast - better that than being married off to some other hateful bastard who who only wants to rekindle old wars.

The one they've picked for her is nearly thrice her age: a grizzled veteran of the Old Guard, known to have a firm hand with his servants. The Matron knows he's likely to see her as little better than a servant; she expects she'll be lucky to see the sun more than once a moon - she'll be kept under lock and key, seen but not heard, her value proven only in the production of sons to bear arms-

I'd rather just get eaten.

"Come, girl," Father says, snapping his fingers like she's one of his hunting hounds. Mother places an ungentle hand on her back, guiding her forward like a prisoner who can't be trusted to follow obediently.

It's more apt than it ought to be.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday4 #my writing #raicheille lhorulgois #THIS IS THE ONGOING STORYLINE #it's not as in-depth as last year's but follows rai trying to get the hell out of the situation her parents have put her in #(the boys will turn up soon)

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iwishf1wasreal · 5 months

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(minus a few who were too hard to find arrival pics of) no one asked for this and yet!!!! here we are!!!

*obligatory disclaimer* these are just my opinions. this is not criticism about how the drivers look or their physical appearance. this is not to rank the drivers on anything other than their choices/outfits. plz do not take this seriously, i am just a random weird woman posting online. i have no credibility, only passion and rage.

CATEGORY #1 - SERVING (THE POSITIVES)

P1: LEWIS HAMILTON

I MEAN....LIKE WE SAY IT EVERY TIME...

do i wish it wasn't an old navy tank top tunic dress? yes. but his supple breasts are out...... i cant focus on anything else.....my heart beats in my ears... dont ask me what color the anything is. I DONT KNOW I CANT SEE IT

P2: LANDO NORRIS

Perhaps the MOST surprising pick for me. Is Lando hot??????????? I've been asking myself this for months......he also seems to be entering his fashion girl era. (FINALLY!!!) He was pictured in an Aimé sweatshirt (A JUMPA for ur english and former english colony folk) so i have high hopes. Maybe I'm just seduced by his Dutch battle scars but he really came thru today. at first i thought he was in miyake and i was literally going to go BALD. but its not :( the brand is basically an even more expensive Zara lmao but...baby steps lol

P3: FERNANDO ALONSO

When Kevin Jz Prodigy chants 'eating the old way! serving the old way! serving the old way!', they meant that about grandpa stunting in head to toe WAG white. he's got the youthful shoes, casual polo with the dad fit, linen trousers for the swap weather. its classic. reminding all the wags who the real bad bitch is.

P4: ZHOU GUANYU

The media is doing him sooo dirty by not showing the back of his jersey!! its not my favorite look he's ever done but it's only media day. i think he looks great in red and i love the blackletter font on the back. I do wish the front was a little cuter but his pants are really cool (sorry theyre cropped out lol) and he's still giving personality and taste!

P6: OSCAR PIASTRI

ok yes he does have the 6th grade boy who's still close with his mother fit on under the jersey but he's always stayed true to who he is. i like that he's worn jerseys to races/race locations he seems excited about like he wore one in Melbourne for his home race. AND this one is signed?! he came with a goal in mind and it was to GAG the fellow jocks at the paddock. jock4jock if you will. gotta respect it.

P7: YUKI TSUNODA

it's a basic serve but a serve nonetheless. he's comfy, he's casual and looks good. i like this color on him a lot and the contrast between the pink and red is fun. hair is looking super good too!!! this is gonna be a good weekend for him, i'm demanding it from the universe!!

P8: VALTERRI BOTTAS & LANCE STROLL

A tie because they're both just on the diva in a tee vibe. You can't blame a comfort queen for being one! The color is nice on Lance and Val is sporting that farm's tan well.

CATEGORY #2 - CHOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (THE BAD AND THE MEH)

P8: LOGAN SARGENT & ALEX ALBON

Another tie because they both just came in team livery. that's literally the only reason they were included in this category. though it pains me to rate alex anything other than handsome, wifed and successful. he does look great in them trousers and who can resist him in blue! hoping for a little creativity (arriving with lily) tomorrow!! as for logan...this is ur home race.....i better see something real special and/or Floridian tomorrow or ELSE.........CHOP!!!

P9: DANIEL RICCIARDO

I know the girls are not gonna like this one. But i must speak my truth.....even if you won't hear it....

I don't think anyone is surprised he's wearing his own merch. It would be better for me if it was a little more interesting than his last few releases of just his brand's logo but I like the color and detailing. He's, of course, wearing the wrong size. Personally, if i were trying to promote my own brand, I would perfect tailor the shirt to fit my body so it looked like the best shirt i've ever worn. The Purse by Dre is probably the best part if only because its so stupid and useless. The cargo pants....look, as a former fan, I know that he prefers to dress in baggier clothes. I'm not knocking him for that--who doesn't love a billowing tee to hide the body tea but when you're a 35 year old millionaire...why do your pants not fit you. This is saggy crotch and diaper butt territory. From a styling perspective, sometimes wearing oversized clothes only makes you look smaller. Like you're drowning in your own clothes. That's what it always looks like to me with DR. I know he's interested in fashion and yeah maybe he is still on my shit list but for someone of his status and with the level of resources he has at his disposal...like this man went to the MET GALA with an actually good nEW YORK BASED DESIGNER. what is this...CHOPPPPP

LAST PLACE (THERES NOT THAT MANY SORRY): FUCKASS FERRARI CARLOSER SAINZ AND CHARLES LECHOP!!!!!!!!!

Ugh. heavy on my mind AND my spirit. Never has powdered blue made me so viscerally annoyed. Normally I love this color but not like this. If the design was actually good, I would still hate it but lucky for a hater like me, the design is SOOOOOOOOO hideous. I guess one of the top ten corporations ruining our planets wasn't enough of a steal for them, they had to add a double whammy for genocide blood money too! Puma AND Hp? It's like they thought the BDS chart was a bingo card. The mechanic style name tags are a nice touch too. Very down to earth for millionaires who's private plane usage might be able to rival THAT woman. Blue collar cosplay is kinda fun when you don't actually have to live paycheck to paycheck! Its nice that their name tages are so low too, so you remember that they've sold their souls out to corporations. It's really only a matter of time before a thirst photoshoot with laptops come out or Charles shoves his puppy into a printer. But hey! At least Charles is investing in the local community! Always nice to see million dollar homes sell when the cost of living for a normal person is 30% over the national average in a city where it's illegal to sleep on the streets🥰 CHOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(ok yes, i am aware these men are all millionaires and only one of them have so much as acknowledged the mass murder of Palestinians. but i'll talk my shit forever if it means there's just one person talking about the real world in the f1 space. FREE PALESTINE. BELIEVE WOMEN. FUCK COMFORTABILITY AND THESE MEN WHO PROTECT EACH OTHER. THEY NEVER WANTED US IN THIS SPORT TO BEGIN WITH, ALL THE MORE REASON TO REMIND THEM I'M HERE!!!!!!!!!)

sorry for the rant. this was originally going to be about fashion. and it still is. sorta. BYE

#f1blr #long and stupid just like my di---

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krizaland · 1 year

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The Sleeping Princess Chapter 6

First Previous

Be warned: There’s kidnapping ahead.

Here’s the song I used btw

Once she left the tree, The Sleeping Princess fumed all the way back to her bed.

“I can’t believe that creep! Trying to bring me back to a life of misery! Well I won’t let that happen! Oh no! I’m staying right here in my cozy bed-Huh?!”

The Sleeping Princess’s rant was cut short by a very worried Lance sitting on her bed.

“Oh my Princess, where did you go?! I’ve been looking for you high and low!”

“Well I…”

The Sleeping Princess looked over in the direction of the tree.

As much as she wanted to tell Lance about The Hat Man, something in her gut told her not to.

“I was…just exploring! Yeah! I was just exploring and got lost! But as you can see I found my way back!” The Sleeping Princess chuckled.

Lance’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the glowing markings that covered her skin.

“Just where did you go exactly? What did you do and what did you see?” He tried to sound calm but his tone was harsh.

The Sleeping Princess was caught off guard by the sudden harshness of Lance’s voice.

She had never seen him angry before! She wasn’t sure he even could get angry until this point.

“Well you see…” The Sleeping Princess trailed off as her mind searched for something to say.

“I’m waiting.”

The ice in Lance’s voice and the lack of a rhyme chilled The Sleeping Princess to her core.

The Sleeping Princess swallowed thickly as she started to sweat.

Lance’s eyes practically pierced her soul as he awaited her response.

Just when she thought fear had gotten the best of her, an idea finally graced The Sleeping Princess’s mind.

“I was…trying to see if there were any other stages! I’ve been wondering if I was the only one here! So I decided to go on an adventure! Heh. I don’t know how it happened exactly but I got a really bad flashback. That's why I came back here.”

Lance continued to glare down at The Sleeping Princess for a moment, letting out a low hum.

“Makes sense to me,” Lance’s face returned to its usual gentle expression, “You must have found one of your more unpleasant memories.”

“You can say that again! It was awful!”

The Sleeping Princess was telling the truth this time. She hated every second of that flashback.

“I can’t even imagine what you’ve just been through. But at least now I’m here to comfort you.”

Lance sat back down on the bed and patted a spot next to him.

The Sleeping Princess reluctantly sat beside him.

“Lay your head in my lap and rest. I’ll make sure you’ll no longer be stressed.” Lance offered as he gestured to his lap.

The Sleeping Princess got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Her mind was practically screaming at her to run away but she brushed it off.

Lance was a nice guy despite his weird vibes. He gave her everything she could ever want.

He had no reason to hurt her whatsoever.

On the contrary, Lance was in love with her.

So what was the harm in laying in his lap?

The Sleeping Princess did as she was told.

Lance’s lap was nice and warm.

The Sleeping Princess tried to relax but her mind refused to calm down.

She tried to speak but Lance simply caressed her face.

“Shh…It’s going to be alright, my dear. There’s nothing to fear,” Lance whispered sweetly. “Just relax and focus on me. All will be exactly as it should be…”

The Sleeping Princess was a bit confused but Lance’s movements convinced her to relax.

It wasn’t long before she was whisked away into the comforting arms of sleep.

Once he was certain she was asleep, Lance carefully scooped her up into his arms bridal style.

“Come, my dear Princess. I'll take thee away. Into a land of enchantment.”

Lance sang softly as he carried The Sleeping Princess away into the shadows.

“Come, my dear Princess The time's come to play. Here in my garden of shadows.”

Lance’s hypnotic voice attracted a few very curious Negati.

However, the Negati quickly left the moment Lance glared at them.

Once the Negati had left, Lance turned his attention back to The Sleeping Princess.

She was still fast asleep in his arms, completely unaware that she was being carried.

A large smile cracked across Lance’s face as he resumed singing.

“Follow sweet Princess. I'll show thee the way. Through all the pain. And the sorrows.”

The shadows grew darker as Lance continued to walk with The Sleeping Princess.

In the ever growing darkness, Lance could see The Sleeping Princess’s markings give off a faint glow.

“Weep not poor Princess. For life is this way. Murdering beauty and passions.”

Lance’s heels clicked against the floor as he walked.

Luckily for Lance, the noise didn’t bother The Sleeping Princess in the slightest. She was still fast asleep in his arms.

“You look so beautiful whether you’re awake or at rest. No one else can compare, you’re simply the best.” Lance sighed dreamily as he carried her into his room.

“Hush now my Princess. It must be this way. Too weary of life And deceptions.”

Lance sang as he gently laid her down on his bed.

“Rest now my Princess. For soon we'll away, Into the calm and the quiet~”

Lance planted a kiss on the mark on The Sleeping Princess’s forehead.

The mark gave off a bright, colorful glow that spread to rest of the marks on her body.

Suddenly, The Sleeping Princess’s cheerful pink hair slowly started to drain to an empty white.

“Ah, there we go. Everything is going perfectly. And here I was worried he was turning you against me.”

Lance chuckled darkly as he stroked her hair.

A few of Lance’s tentacles slid out of his hair again.

They excitedly wriggled towards The Sleeping Princess but Lance cut their journey short.

“I thought I told you to hide! I can’t let her see my other side!” Lance hissed as he shoved his tentacles back into his hair.

He cleared his throat and looked back at The Sleeping Princess.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. I was really hoping the process would take a bit longer, so I could really make you swoon. Oh well! This too is fine. After all you’re still mine~”

#balan wonderworld #self insert

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 2 years

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**Cultivating Love**48**

Allura was slightly proud of herself. Only slightly. She’d beheaded the undead demon she’d been locked in with, then taken their outer robe and mask. Once the demon had been beheaded, the door had opened for her. Not sure which way Shiro and Keith had gone, she backtracked towards the way they’d come, knowing the passage to be relatively safe. Running straight into the arms of a demon she didn’t know.

Her pride in pausing to strip the wear of the demon fell as she was grabbed, her feet disappearing out from under her as she was taken from the spot she stood. She knew the moment she’d collided with the stranger that she’d made a mistake, but quickly she sucked in a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves… then suddenly they weren’t in the corridor at all and she had no idea where she was.

Before her lay bodies. The husks of those drained of their chi. Their skin dull grey and wrinkled tightly against their shrunken bodies, devoid of the fullness of muscle and tissues

“I’ve found her. Lotor will be happy”

Pulling off the mask and robes she’d donned over hers, Allura was then shoved forward into the arms of another stranger

“Don’t worry, princess. Lotor asked us to make sure you’re safe. He’s not like Zarkon. We need you to stay here with us”

How could the pair claim Lotor was not like his father when bodies lay before them? Gritting her teeth, she wanted to teach the pair the truth she’d learned about Lotor, but if she opened her mouth and slandered him, she would surely be the next body on the floor. With Blue sticking out when she wore the blade upon her hip, she’d hidden it inside her robes and was grateful she had. Seeing she had not answered, the unmasked demon woman stuck her face right up in hers

“She doesn’t say much, yet she sure is pretty. I can see why Lotor’s interested in her”

“Lotor’s interests will lead to his death. She’s an enemy“

So she hadn’t made friends with the masked woman. A masked woman who seemed part reptile… from her tails. Lance would have made a joke of it, both the tails and the lack of friendly banter

“You’ll have to excuse her. She was born blind and mute. Honerva helped her learn how to communicate with her mind. You’re a lot like Lance, aren’t you? But you’re not like like him, right?”

The woman speaking to her spoke with casualness and in a way that was not of the realm. She sounded uncivilised, though that could have been due to all the lessons Coran had forced Allura to attend

“I do not have to speak to you”

“Well, you could. It’s only us here”

“You follow Lotor. It is foolish to think you will show me mercy when his heart holds none, stranger”

The strange woman laughed in her face

“You do sound like Lance too, right back at the beginning. He always sounded funny to us, but he doesn’t have your funny accent. Is he okay? He fully like vanished and Zarkon got soooooo mad at us”

“He is not your concern. Lotor is as bad as his father”

Sighing at her, the woman leapt back, perching herself to sit on what seemed to be an empty box of supplies

“Narti, can you reach Lotor yet?”

Whatever the Narti woman thought, this time Allura didn’t hear it

“Alright. I’ll go find Zethrid and Axca. Those two, I’m telling you. No, Narti, you must protect her. If Lotor is telling you to stay here and for me to go, you have to stay here. I’m sorry to cut this short, but when the boss calls. You know how it is. Anyway, say hi to Lance if you see him”

The woman vanished. Literally vanished right in front of Allura’s eyes, leaving her with Narti and the bodies. Not enjoying her present company, Allura inched her way over to the seat that the woman had vacated, feeling foolish as she sat upon the box. Did you try talking to Narti? Did Narti know her thoughts? Could she hear her wondering? No. She couldn’t think anything useful if she did… so why did Blue to come to mind? Where was Shiro? She really could have used Shiro right now… and what was happening outside? She didn’t feel very proud about leaving the room now.

“Your friend is being a nuisance. We will move”

Taken into the hold of the woman for a second time, Allura definitely felt she was letting the team down. She was going along with the sake of waiting for an opening she did not would come or not. Leaving the storage room, she seemed to be beneath the terrace now in an area set aside specifically for storage. Maybe if…

“Don’t make things hard. Honerva awaits”

No. She didn’t want to meet Honerva. Honerva was Zarkon’s wife. Between Honerva and Lotor, she had a better shot with Lotor. She’d have to… have to fight Narti.

“You think you could? You pathetic thing”

Having had enough, Allura snapped. Taking Narti’s hands off her, she may have stumbled yet at least she was free

“I have had enough of you and your attitude. I have never harmed you, or insulted you, as you do me. I will not stand for it. Now, be civilised and draw your weapon as I draw…”

Allura squeaked. She’d been giving Narti a piece of her mind and the woman had lashed out at her. Ducking poorly, she drew Blue from its sheath, holding it out as she glared

“You demon’s have no sense of patience or morals”

Narti’s voice mocked her

“You don’t have time for them when no one cares”

Allura hotly shooting back

“Well I do. My friends will be here soon, yet I think they’ll be in time to find you having expired. Unlike you, I do not sell them out”

That strange woman believed in Lotor, then kidnapped her to take her to Honerva. It was simply good manners not to lie to your friends. Dropping her gaze quickly, she confirmed Blue was indeed in her hands. The blade felt so light, almost as if a natural connection to her body had been formed instantly.

“Lotor has lost his way, he will find it again soon enough”

“Lotor. Lotor. Lotor. Are you incapable of thinking of nothing else?”

Angry, Allura dropped her stance. She did know how to wield a sword, more the theoretical than the practical, but she had wielded one before and now she knew the feel of Blue, she didn’t know why she’d been so worried.

Narti was a tough an opponent. Fighting her long ranged put Allura at the disadvantage, but that didn’t mean she didn’t try. As she fought she remembered all the times she’d snuck in to play with her father’s sword, that always sat so proudly in his office. He’d promised her her own some day, then her duties as a princess ruined that. The first time she managed to slice Narti’s skin, she felt confident. The second was a fluke, yet she’d take it. Angering Narti, all Allura could do now was dodge. Narti’s dark energy attacks flew like balls of hail, spread out for maximum chance to hit. When push came to shove she could rely on her own chi, yet she didn’t want to sheath Blue and lose the feeling of the blade’s comfort.

Cringing as she hit the wall, Allura realised she couldn’t dodge, her eyes screwed shut as she braced for an impact that didn’t come. A strong arm pulled her close, and the dark energy of the room rose. Opening her eyes, she saw she was against Lotor. Lotor’s hand extended, with purple magic flowing along… no… purple magic being drawn into him

“You’re safe now. It seems that I was nearly too late, my princess”

Annoyingly her heart skipped a beat. Across from the Narti was trying to tear her hand away from where magic met Lotor’s, failing as she did. It was a horrible way to die. Allura could see the life being sucked from Narti. It also annoyed her that Lotor had swept in to save her.

Drained of her energy, Narti turned to dust. Lotor dropping his hand to smile at her, only Allura shoved him back to put a good metre between them, turning Blue on him. Chuckling, Lotor raised his hands

“Come now, princess. I’m here to protect you”

“You’re lying! I know what you did! I know what you did to Lance. I know you lied to me! You used me!”

Lotor’s smile dropped, stepping slightly forward, his tone shifted dramatically to almost mocking

“We both know you will not kill me. If you truly think me a liar then run your blade through me”

As Lotor stepped forward again, Allura didn’t step back

“Allura…”

“Don’t! I won’t listen to you”

“Stop this nonsense, princess. It’s most unbecoming”

Swinging out, Allura clipped Lotor’s cheek with her blade. Lotor bringing his fingers up to dab at the blood running down his face

“Ah, I see. You’re going to regret that…”

“No. What I regret is the time I spent thinking of you whom only holds himself within his heart. I tried to hold belief in you! I questioned the things I was being told because I wanted to believe in you. Now you’ve hurt my friends and for that I cannot forgive you”

“So you can forgive me for hurting you? My dear, I think you have this backwards. Now I can forgive you for your strike, you are scared and do not know what you do…”

Allura didn’t want to be forgiven. Standing this close to Lotor, she felt like she was really seeing him for the first time. No gorgeous smile. His hair wasn’t perfectly pulled back. His eyes didn’t sparkle with their usual warmth. As Lotor raised his hand, Allura thrust forward, driving Blue straight through his palm. She’d been aiming for his chest and he knew it. Instead of screaming with pain, Lotor slid his hand back, the wound beginning to heal instantly

“My dear, don’t you know to aim for the heart. I wanted to keep you safe above all, yet I see you are just like the rest of you”

Backhanding her, Allura stumbled back. Before she could fall, Lotor grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back so hard she seriously feared he would snap her neck. Whispering in her ear, Lotor’s voice filled her with disgust

“I’ve already taken care of Shiro, and right now, I do not care what my father will do to you. Let this serve as a lesson. I think he might appreciate the gift of the daughter from an old friend”

He was insane. Lotor was utterly insane. Taking Blue from her, Lotor threw the blade across the room, her hands coming to claw at his arm

“You’ll never get away with this”

“Oh, I think I already have. After all, what Altea’s sheltered little princess know of real life? Now be quiet unless you want me to really lose my temper”

Dragged up from the lower depths by Lotor’s hold on her hair, the terrace was not as Allura remembered it. The centre raised with the same symbol on the barrier above mirrored below. Red streaks arching up into sky… Things were bad. The others hand all made it their first, Lance, Pidge, Keith, Shiro, and Hunk. Some of the cultivators being held had broken free to fight against the demon beasts that were invading the space, and a fierce fire raged at the back of the terrace.

Thrown down cruelly, Allura hit the stone hard. Her palms skinned on impact, but it did nothing to diminish the fire insider her. Glaring at Lotor, Lotor ignored her look, clicking his fingers and summoning two hooded individuals to his side

“I think it’s time we made the preparations for the next part of the show”

Bowing slightly, the pair vanished. Lotor hadn’t moved to take her hand, or do something else to her. Allura hated it. She’d noticed her friends yet they hadn’t seemed to notice her

“Whatever you’re doing, it won’t work! Our people will not give in”

Running into his friends had been accidental on Keith’s part. He’d heard an explosion he was not responsible and rushed to find Lance causing chaos in the terrace. For a moment his foot steps stalled. Pitch black energy was leaking from Lance, his eyes ice cold as he slaughtered demon beasts. Noticing Pidge, he’d left Lance to fight, rushing to her side as she cried his name.

Having burned his way through to her, he was surprised when Pidge wrapped her arms around him

“Thank the heavens… Keith, it’s Lance. He’s lost control of himself! One moment we were fighting demons and the next he was like this! I’m sorry, we…”

“You did well. Where’s Hunk?”

“Healing the cultivators towards the back. They’re trying to set up a barrier. Lance…”

“Lance isn’t so far gone he doesn’t know friend from foe. Return to Hunk, let him know I’m here. We need to take out these beasts as fast as we can before the miasma spreads”

“But what about Lance?”

“I’ll check on him. Gather all the forces you can. Now the battle has spilled into here, we must fight”

“He…”

“Lance won’t hurt me. I swear. Now go”

Pidge gave him a quick squeeze before letting go and running off towards Hunk, Keith turning back to find Lance. He’d moved further away from them, evidently furious from the amount of dark lightening pouring from his hand. Even in the demon world, Lance hadn’t been this destructive… and yet… Pidge may be worried, and yet his heart told him not to.

Drawing Black, Keith ran after Lance. His steps light and graceful, sure footed and confident from years upon battlefields. Making it to Lance’s side, both of them turned on the demon’s closing in around them, drawn to Lance’s energy

“Lance?”

“What?”

He’d known it. Lance was in control of himself

“What’s the plan here?”

“Kill the demons… did you come to kill me?”

Confused by the question, claws raked down Keith’s arm, the beast falling dead as Keith looked to find Lance’s hand still extended

“Why would I do that?”

“The others…”

Right. Pidge and Hunk. They must have seen the corruption on Lance and thought him… No wonder Lance was acting recklessly. He felt given up on. Keith slashing down the demon lunging for Lance

“I can still tell my mate from a demon. So what if you’re mad? You’re still you. Give me some credit”

Lance laughed, spinning back to shoot another demon dead and with his back to Keith’s

“What about you?”

“Shiro has gone after Lotor and Allura… and I may have started a fire…”

“That’s very you. I think a fire is the least of our worries”

Keith wasn’t so sure. It’d spread quickly and he probably should have done something about putting it out

“It’ll be bad if the palace burns”

“Not really. They can’t bring more beasts through if the buildings collapse on their traps and it limits their options. Keith, I’m really sick of this”

“I know what you mean. When this is over, I want to take a holiday”

Driven apart, they were saved by some of their fellow cultivators, Keith nodding their way in appreciation before following behind Lance. Lance surely couldn’t have much energy left. Not when he was relying on his own and not without Blue

“We need to get out of here. Hunk and Pidge are towards the back”

“If you clear the way, I’ll back you up from behind. I miss… I can’t focus how I would like. This is all I can do”

“All you can do has always been above and beyond. Do you still have Red upon you?”

“I do”

“Good. I’ll use Black to cleave the way. The tide seems to be ebbing”

The tide may have been ebbing, yet the world rumbled. The ruined and raised part of the terrace beginning to glow red. The portal to the demon realm was finally opening

“Lance, the portal!”

“It’s too late! Get to the others! Go!”

The demon beasts around them stopped their attacks, eyes fixed on the opening portal. Despite knowing what was coming was far worse, the cultivators able to help began to clear the transfixed beasts as around the portal hooded figures gathered. Turning back to make sure Lance was still running, Keith found Lance seemingly as transfixed as the beasts, retracing the ground he’d made in order to grab Lance by the hand

“You’re not one of them. Move it”

“We need to stop them…”

“We need to move and regroup… Shiro’s here”

Lance’s gaze whipped around. Shiro slicing through beasts with White. Keith didn’t see Allura, his heart sinking at the idea that Shiro may have been too late and in the shame of having fallen for such an easy trick. Watching Lance watching Shiro, Keith realised Lance was watching White. Lance must have been longing to be wield Blue the same way since all of this began. Pulling Lance against him, Keith kissed him. Lance initially shocked but allowed it. The kiss chaste, simply enough to let Lance know he wasn’t alone

“You’re fine the way you are. Help me clear these beasts closest to us. We’ll make way for Shiro then together we’ll find Hunk and Pidge”

“And what if I said I was not”

“Then I would call you a fool. Focus on what you can do for now and we will do the rest”

Lance clicked his tongue. Keith supposed that hurt his pride but hurt pride was better than death

“I miss my arm”

“Then I shall be the one you lack”

“I’m not sure it works that way”

“Then I’ll call you a fool again. As many times as it takes”

Giving a laugh, it would have been better if Lance hadn’t looked demonic as he had. Wiping at his face, he came shaking his head

“You are right. Thank you. All my issues drove out my sensibilities”

With all that was happening their battle hardened ways were suffused with too many emotions

“I’m not sure any of us have any left. You go left and I’ll go right?”

“First one to ten beasts wins?”

“And what do I win?”

“Another kiss?”

Keith would have been happy to let Lance win, but if Lance was offering him a kiss, he’d be greedy and take that win for himself

“Then I shall not lose”

Keith still felt like he’d lost when Shiro finally reached them. Wrapping his arm around Lance, he stole what should have been Keith’s kiss… even if it was a kiss on the cheek. He couldn’t help glaring at Shiro, who took it the wrong way leaving Keith also kissed on the cheek. Sheathing White, Shiro placed his hands on both their shoulders, dropping his head then raising it to smile

“I’m relieved to find you both okay. Though… you do look a little different to when I last saw you, Lance. Let me deal with this. You’ve used so much energy that the corruption is spreading too fast”

Well it wasn’t as if Keith didn’t know that, yet he’d planned on asking Hunk for help. Lance swatted at Shiro’s hand as Shiro grabbed for a tendril of corruption

“It is fine. Where is Allura? And what happened to Lotor?”

Shiro ignored Lance’s swatting, simply grabbing and crushing another tendril instead

“I’m not sure. I was chasing Lotor then I was here. I saw the both of you. Thank the heavens that you live”

Keith would swear Lance blushed under Shiro’s praise. Lance hadn’t blushed for him. Not that he was jealous. He simply felt he’d missed something obvious and that annoyed him. His tone betraying him

“Pidge and Hunk are with some other cultivators. Lance was already fighting when I arrived”

Shiro picked up on his huff, raising his eyebrow, before placing both hands on Lance’s shoulders. The darkness around Lance starting to lift

“I told you to leave it”

Shiro ignored Lance’s protest

“And I’m telling you this much is fine. What happened with the two you were fighting?”

Lance looked to him. It wasn’t Keith’s fault he hadn’t really had a chance to explain

“Buried under the rubble. I don’t know where Ezor was… but Axca and Zethrid refused to listen to reason. They kept on about how Lotor planned to betray Zarkon and wanted us safe… at least, I think they were. We were separated when the roof caved in”

“You did well. You both did. I’m sorry that I lost sight of Allura”

“If Lotor wants her kept safe, then she may be for now. We have a bigger problem of what we’re going to do about the portal now that it’s open”

Coming up behind them, Hunk nearly got himself stabbed as he wrapped his arms around Keith

“I’m so relieved to see you three! Pidge told me Keith was here, yet she didn’t mention Shiro”

Pidge’s voice came from behind Hunk

“That’s because he wasn’t. Is Lance okay, Shiro?”

All of them looked to Lance and Shiro. Lance sighing as if annoyed, yet Keith knew it was to hide his hurt. Opting to answer for Lance himself

“He is fine. He’s kept his mind, only a little more murderous than before. Isn’t that right?”

Still in a huff over being hurt, Lance huffed

“Maybe a little”

Despite not knowing what was going on, Shiro snorted softly

“He is fine. I’ve topped up his energy with my own so he has enough to fight the corruption. I see you two are also alright?”

Released by Hunk, Pidge took Keith’s space as she nodded at Shiro’s question

“When Lance charged out I thought we were all going to die, but seeing him fight rallied the others. The problem now is those around the portal. We got everyone injured, and those who couldn’t fight inside, and they’re trying to set up a barrier. We need to find Allura”

Keith turned to Lance at the news Lance had charged right into danger, Lance shrugging

“I may have gotten a little murderous. I’m allowed to be frustrated. Plus, did you forget that my bear took some of there focus before it dispelled? As for those around the portal, they have the same kind of energy as Zarkon. I know Zarkon’s here somewhere, and before you ask, no, I cannot feel Allura, only him. In any case, there are still beasts…”

Above them the sky rumbled, all of them looking up to see a shape forming inside the top of the barrier. Pidge stating the obvious

“That can’t be good”

“Not for you, but I think my body is already absorbing the energy displaced”

Keith smacked Lance upside the back of the head at his stupid comment

“That’s not a good thing for you either. Did you forget the last two times you absorbed too much energy you ended up in chains?”

“No. Yes technically. But no. I’m better at boosting those around me, more so than my own spells. Especially like this. With the portal opening the energy released is attracted to my body. I’m simply going to put it to good use. That’s why Shiro didn’t have to go around picking off the corruption”

“Of course he did. You got all moody and I’m not having you go corrupt thanks to Zarkon. The children get upset”

“And you got all moody and set the palace on fire. And I noticed the children were upset, that was part of the problem”

Hunk and Pidge had no idea they were the children and Keith had no idea why he’d said children, only that it seemed to work as Lance understood him perfect. Sighing at them, Shiro shook his head

“It’s for the best that you do not absorb any more demonic energy if you can, Lance. And now is not the time for bickering. Hunk, I want you to heal those you can . Pidge, support him… or not”

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aerltarg · 3 years

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Jon Snow Month 2022

Day 3: Personality traits and skills

Observant

Jon's eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. (Bran I, AGOT)

[...] His uncle glanced over his shoulder at the raised table at the far end of the hall. “My brother does not seem very festive tonight.”

Jon had noticed that too. A bastard had to learn to notice things, to read the truth that people hid behind their eyes. His father was observing all the courtesies, but there was tightness in him that Jon had seldom seen before. He said little, looking out over the hall with hooded eyes, seeing nothing. Two seats away, the king had been drinking heavily all night. His broad face was flushed behind his great black beard. He made many a toast, laughed loudly at every jest, and attacked each dish like a starving man, but beside him the queen seemed as cold as an ice sculpture. “The queen is angry too,” Jon told his uncle in a low, quiet voice. “Father took the king down to the crypts this afternoon. The queen didn’t want him to go.”

Benjen gave Jon a careful, measuring look. “You don’t miss much, do you, Jon? We could use a man like you on the Wall.” (Jon I, AGOT)

Kind

“It be a mercy to kill them,” Hullen said.

Bran looked to his lord father for rescue, but got only a frown, a furrowed brow. “Hullen speaks truly, son. Better a swift death than a hard one from cold and starvation.”

“No!” He could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he looked away. He did not want to cry in front of his father.

[...]

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.” (Bran I, AGOT)

Longclaw was not so long or heavy a sword as his father’s Ice, but it was Valyrian steel all the same. He touched the edge of the blade to mark where the blow must fall, and Ygritte shivered. “That’s cold,” she said. “Go on, be quick about it.”

He raised Longclaw over his head, both hands tight around the grip. One cut, with all my weight behind it. He could give her a quick clean death, at least. He was his father’s son. Wasn’t he? Wasn’t he?

“Do it,” she urged him after a moment. “Bastard. Do it. I can’t stay brave forever.” When the blow did not fall she turned her head to look at him.

Jon lowered his sword. “Go,” he muttered.

Ygritte stared.

“Now,” he said, “before my wits return. Go.”

She went. (Jon VI, ACOK)

Horseback rider and sword fighter

Jon swelled with pride. “Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I'm the better sword, and Hullen says I sit a horse as well as anyone in the castle.” (Jon I, AGOT)

“The Old Bear's no fool,” Dareon observed. “You're certain to be a builder, and Jon's certain to be a ranger. He's the best sword and the best rider among us, and his uncle was the First before he…” His voice trailed off awkwardly as he realized what he had almost said. (Jon V, AGOT)

Natural leader

He could feel the despair all around him. “There must be a hundred thousand,” Satin wailed. “How can we stop so many?”

“The Wall will stop them,” Jon heard himself say. He turned and said it again, louder. “The Wall will stop them. The Wall defends itself.” Hollow words, but he needed to say them, almost as much as his brothers needed to hear them. “Mance wants to unman us with his numbers. Does he think we’re stupid?” He was shouting now, his leg forgotten, and every man was listening. “The chariots, the horsemen, all those fools on foot… what are they going to do to us up here? Any of you ever see a mammoth climb a wall?” He laughed, and Pyp and Owen and half a dozen more laughed with him. “They’re nothing, they’re less use than our straw brothers here, they can’t reach us, they can’t hurt us, and they don’t frighten us, do they?”

“NO!” Grenn shouted.

“They’re down there and we’re up here,” Jon said, “and so long as we hold the gate they cannot pass. They cannot pass!” They were all shouting then, roaring his own words back at him, waving swords and longbows in the air as their cheeks flushed red. Jon saw Kegs standing there with a warhorn slung beneath his arm. “Brother,” he told him, “sound for battle.” (Jon VIII, ASOS)

Negotiator

“Your Grace, I know where you might find more men. Give me the wildlings, and I will gladly tell you where and how.”

“I gave you Rattleshirt. Be content with him.”

“I want them all.”

“Some of your own Sworn Brothers would have me believe that you are half a wildling yourself. Is it true?”

“To you they are only arrow fodder. I can make better use of them upon the Wall. Give them to me to do with as I will, and I’ll show you where to find your victory … and men as well.”

Stannis rubbed the back of his neck. “You haggle like a crone with a codfish, Lord Snow. Did Ned Stark father you on some fishwife? How many men?” (Jon IV, ADWD)

“Mance should have killed you when he had the chance,” he said as he did his best to turn Jon’s hand to pulp and bone. “Gold for gruel, and boys … a cruel price. Whatever happened to that sweet lad I knew?”

They made him lord commander. “A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I’ve heard it said. Three days?”

“If I live that long. Some o’ my own will spit on me when they hear these terms.” Tormund released Jon’s hand. (Jon XI, ADWD)

“There is always a price, is there not?” The Braavosi smiled. “What does the Watch require?”

“Your ships, for a start. With their crews.”

“All three? How will I return to Braavos?”

“I only need them for a single voyage.”

“A hazardous voyage, I assume. For a start, you said?”

“We need a loan as well. Gold enough to keep us fed till spring. To buy food and hire ships to bring it to us.”

“Spring?” Tycho sighed. “It is not possible, my lord.”

What was it Stannis had said to him? You haggle like a crone with a codfish, Lord Snow. Did Lord Eddard father you on a fishwife? Perhaps he had at that.

It took the better part of an hour before the impossible became possible, and another hour before they could agree on terms. The flagon of mulled wine that Satin delivered them settle the more nettlesome points. By the time Jon Snow signed the parchment the Braavosi drew up, both of them were half-drunk and quite unhappy. Jon thought that a good sign. (Jon IX, ADWD)

Northern politics expert

[....] Roose Bolton may regain the north, but when he does he will find that his castle, herds, and harvest all belong to me. If I take the Dreadfort unawares—”

“You won’t,” Jon blurted. [...]

Stannis raised a hand for silence. “Explain your meaning.”

Where to begin? Jon moved to the map. Candles had been placed at its corners to keep the hide from rolling up. A finger of warm wax was puddling out across the Bay of Seals, slow as a glacier. “To reach the Dreadfort, Your Grace must travel down the kingsroad past the Last River [...]”

[...] Stannis stared at the map. For a long moment the only sound was the king grinding his teeth. “Leave me. All of you. Lord Snow, remain.”

[...] “And they will fight for me, you believe?”

“If you ask them.”

“Why should I beg for what is owed me?”

“Ask, I said, not beg.” Jon pulled back his hand. “It is no good sending messages. Your Grace will need to go to them yourself. Eat their bread and salt, drink their ale, listen to their pipers, praise the beauty of their daughters and the courage of their sons, and you’ll have their swords. [...]” (Jon IV, ADWD)

#asoiaf #asoiafedit #jon snow #jonsnowmonth2022 #valyrianscrolls #book jon snow #myedit #god knows i spent hours collecting so many quotes and then another hour cutting like. half of them w tears in my eyes lmao #it got too long but there are just so many good momentss w my boy #i would insert here entire chapter w jon educating stannis on northerm politics if i could it was gold

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my-mt-heart · 3 years

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TWD 11x11 “Rogue Element” Review

And the TV gods said…let there be no ship baiting in episode 11 and there was no ship baiting. A small miracle. A sad one too. I guess I’m willing to settle for episodes without the ship I do care about now as long as I don’t have to deal with the mass hysteria. Not that this episode doesn’t deliver some great character moments. We finally get some movement on Eugene’s story which has been dragging out since last season, Connie and Kelly win the award for best sibling dynamic, and Carol gets to suss out the puppet master of the Commonwealth, so that’s all fine and well. I have to ask though, what the HELL is going on with this show tonally? It’s almost like it’s having an identity crisis because I swear, and I understand it’s intentional, there are moments where I feel like I’m watching a crime drama. Just not the good kind. I’m talking really campy shit. Course correct, Angela. I beg you. Whatever you do, don’t let Daryl and Carol go canon in a cheesy way that doesn’t speak to who they are or what the show is supposed to be. But, I digress…

Though it’s Inspector Eugene’s story that contributes the most to the absurdity, my heart still breaks for him. We start off seeing him with everything he wants, namely the Iron Maiden, ice cream loving girl of his dreams. They’re much more established than they were the last time we saw them together, as in sharing a bed and saying ‘I love you’ to each other. Why wait when, as he tells Princess later, “right now is all we’ve got?” It sounds like Eugene needs to impart some wisdom on Daryl and Carol, am I right?

But in true TWD fashion, his moment of bliss gets ripped away. We the audience see Stephanie packing a bag, though as far as Eugene knows, she’s completely vanished and down the rabbit hole he goes, trying to get to the bottom of what he believes must be a government conspiracy. Personally, I wish we got to see more of Rosita helping her best friend through his crisis, but as always, Princess makes for some good company (her pretending to have lasagna just to get through Eugene’s front door is pretty funny). She’s basically the Watson to his Holmes, listening to him rattle off all the clues he’s gathered and helping him sneak into the suspicious plumber’s apartment, only to get ratted out by an elderly neighbor and end up in jail. Until Lance Hornsby comes along to explain the “misunderstanding,” that is.

At the end of it all, Princess admits to Eugene that she thinks Stephanie just broke up with him, but Eugene’s still not ready to give up and that’s when the heartbreak happens. Doing some more snooping, he finds out Stephanie is basically just an undercover agent Lance Hornby assigned to get Eugene to spill everything about his communities. We’ll talk about Lance in a bit, but let’s focus on Eugene for a second. He is literally trembling with emotion after everything finally lands on him. Props to Josh McDermitt for conveying Eugene’s pain in such a compelling way. For fuck’s sake, the man shared his innermost thoughts and I’m assuming lost his virginity (??) to a catfish. Ouch. On the bright side, we finally get the big reveal that I think most of us already suspected, which is that Margot Bingham’s character, referred to by Pamela Milton as Max, is the real Stephanie. So there’s still hope for Inspector Eugene.

Connie and Kelly are also doing some investigating this episode in a way that feels a little more grounded, though still out of place (I’ve resigned to the fact that the Commonwealth arc is always going to feel jarring to me no matter what). While Connie represents the one ready to do whatever it takes to uncover the truth about Trooper Davis, Kelly is the one who’s there to reel her back in when it’s necessary, reminding her they’re only at the Commonwealth to get away from all the fighting for a while. They compliment each other really well and I can really feel how deeply connected they are, unlike a lot of the other siblings that have been on this show.

I know Connie is a controversial character in the caryl fandom for *ahem* reasons and while I will grant that she is super underdeveloped, I do like her. I like seeing her stand on her own two feet without using bigger characters as a crutch. Someone else talked about Connie’s lack of agency on the whole Donnie front, and I completely agree that’s problematic. But at the same time, it is interesting that in an episode where we are in Connie’s perspective, where she does have agency, Daryl still does not come up once in conversation. This is immediately following an episode where we are led/mislead to believe Daryl might be smitten with her, mind you. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because when we’re with Connie and Kelly, we’re actually seeing things objectively. As far as they’re concerned, there are no deeper feelings to explore. There may have been a silent question between them in the beginning of season 10, but I maintain the purpose of that was to alert the audience to the possibility of something more before the true nature of the relationship was very subtly explained in 10x05. Now, however, the romance is only visible through a specific lens – Carol’s – which Daryl may possibly try but fail to put on. Further elaboration on that can be found here where I lay out Daryl’s potential arc for the remainder of the block.

What I also find interesting, though it may or may not be intentional, is having Connie’s and Carol’s storylines run parallel to each other. In New Haunts, it’s heavily implied that Carol puts Connie on a pedestal. She thinks that her accomplishments in the old world make her more admirable, and therefore more worthy of Daryl’s love. But going along with Rogue Element’s theme of transparency or unveiling the truth, we can easily see they are equals. It doesn’t matter that Connie is working inside the system or that Carol remains on the outside. They are both intelligent, crafty, and determined enough to make equally important discoveries. For Connie, that entails planting a seed of doubt in the mind of one the Commonwealth’s biggest players, Mercer, and in doing so, acquiring a list of names I’m guessing are “undesirables.” For Carol, it means tapping into her past trauma to get the women at the poppy farm to open about the abuse they experienced, thus helping Lance, a bigger player in the Commonwealth than people probably realize, clean up his operation and giving him a strong reason to trust her. The only difference between Connie and Carol is that Connie is used to gaining recognition (in the form of her name in print) whereas Carol often has to be the unsung hero.

This is something she has in common with Lance. While on an excursion together, Lance tells her he does better outside the walls than inside and Carol responds that a lot of her people think the same. No doubt, Daryl is someone who comes to mind. Not to go on a tangent, but this scene reminds me so much of when Aaron took Daryl under his wing while he struggled to get adjusted to Alexandria. To me, it just goes to show that once again, Daryl and Carol are on opposite trajectories. This time it’s Daryl who’s putting on a mask and Carol, I presume, is finally tired of doing so. I think by the end of this block or beginning of 11C at the latest, they will finally start to get on the same page emotionally, which has been preventing them from being together.

Anyways. Back to Lance. He may seem to be taking Carol under his wing, but as Angela Kang notes, their relationship is transactional. Carol knows she can use him to get something she wants. It’s unclear now, but I think it’s possible Lance might try to exploit her too, especially considering how low he stooped to get information from Eugene. He’s a cunning motherfucker for sure, however I think it’s safe to say that if their relationship does eventually lead down a dangerous path, Carol will come out on top in the end and maybe she’ll finally get her recognition (from Daryl).

The ultimate takeaway here is that the Commonwealth isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and people aren’t who they may appear to be. Stephanie isn’t Stephanie, Lance isn’t all for one, Mercer isn’t the Commonwealth’s poster boy or at least he won’t be going forward.

Before I wrap this up, I wanted to quickly address the lack of screeners/spoilers this week. I know a lot of people reached out to me on the matter, and again staying with the theme of the episode, the truth is I deleted every single one of those messages. Why, MT? Why would you ignore us in our time of crisis? Because my lovely friends, I am trying to be more responsible about spreading needless panic. Let this episode stand as proof that not everything is about shipping. Let’s not treat everything like a catastrophe, okay? This is probably a good time to remind you all that articles about episode 10 are going to come out very shortly and they’re probably going to play up the Donnie/Carzekiel beats. Please, do not let yourselves get worked up about it. Deep breaths. Everything is going to be okay. Only five more episodes (of hell) to go and since my prayers were heard this time around, I ask that the TV gods now send us some meaningful Caryl scenes. Please and thank you. Amen.

11x09 “No Other Way” Review

11x10 “New Haunts” Review

#caryl #twd #twd spoilers #twd review #twd season 11 #twd rogue element

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #god of mischief #fanfiction #fanfic #tom hiddleston

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 4 years

Text

Fated Part 1

Ares x Nemesis!reader (as in the goddess)

Word Count: 1496

Summary: The Fates had a plan War and Revenge, here is their story.

Note: Gods age weird, don’t worry about it.

Like any soul that existed, you were born with your future written in metaphorical stone. Whether it would be Aphrodite herself or one of her kind that was going to you with Love’s arrow, you didn’t know, but what you and your entire family did know due to some poor secret-keeping was that you were destined to marry the God of War, Ares himself. It wasn’t much of a surprise to anyone once it was leaked, either, especially once your affinity for Revenge started showing itself. Wars with that particular motivation were a dime a dozen, after all.

Still, even knowing that you and he were destined, you found yourself frozen in place the first time you laid eyes on him. No amount of preparation could have braced you for his beauty, the unique beauty of an Olympian that was so vastly different from any of the Chthonic gods you called your family. Silvery hair was streaked through with blood as crimson as the eyes that scanned the battlefield for his next opponent.

“What’s the matter, dear sister?” Thanatos’ voice teased from next to you.

You didn’t bother to move your gaze to look at him; the smug look on Death’s face was something you were already very familiar with. “Not all of us were raised with our Fated, little brother. You and Zagreus were lucky.”

“That is true.” Fortunately, you and Lord Ares are still quite young, comparatively speaking. There will be plenty of time for you to grow close.”

“Be that as it may, we will not begin that today,” you announced. Your heart raced as those red eyes finally landed on you. A small upturning of his mouth pulled his fine face from a bloodthirsty scowl to an amused smirk. “I must take my leave.”

“Until next time, then.”

The next time you met Lord Ares was a much more private--but equally surprising--affair. You’d just finished blessing a woman who’d been praying for your aid at a small temple of yours far in the woods--her husband was a right piece of work that thoroughly deserved what was coming--when the quiet clanking of armor drew your attention to the door. And there he was, glancing around to take in the modest sight.

“Quaint place.”

You scoffed. “There aren’t many people that call upon my services, Lord Ares.”

“A shame. Perhaps we would be meeting before now if that weren’t the case.”

“You could have sought me out.”

“You could have done the same.”

“Ah, but I am a possessive creature,” you informed him. “I will have you to myself or I will not have you. Humans are one thing, but gods are another.”

“So you waited.”

“Until the Fates predictions about your godly children had passed, until all of them were born.” You didn’t bother to reveal how you knew the details about them. The answer was simple; your weaving sisters sometimes had poor ambrosia tolerance.

“A patience I can admire.”

“Impressive considering how impulsive your family claims you are.”

He chuckled. “And you should know that those that say such things have little grasp of the truth of war. Ones such as you and I know that the sweetest battles simmer for a time.”

“I couldn’t have phrased it better myself.”

He stepped closer. “Have you any pressing matters?”

“Not for a time. What are you scheming?”

“Come with me to my House. We have stalled our meeting for far too long. I have a fine vintage I’ve been saving for this occasion.”

“Ambrosia?” you let your tone slip into mock-surprise. “Suddenly I don’t think your intentions are as pure as getting to know one another.”

“Well,” his smile showed off unnaturally sharp canines, “perhaps those rumors of my impulsive ways aren’t as false as I’d like to believe.”

Perhaps it was rash, but the pair of you married the following day after having spent the entire night just talking--despite any promises to do much more physical things. It was a small, quick ceremony with the only outsiders being your mothers. Hera, being the Goddess of Marriage herself, officiated while Nyx simply observed with a fond smile. Then the pair of you promptly vanished from everyone’s awareness for a honeymoon of sorts, one spent in the House of War Ares called home, the one far away from Olympus and its prying population.

It was only once you resurfaced that you realized six human months had passed. Oh well. Let the mortals enjoy their peace. It was unlikely that the gods of Olympus noticed either of your absences anyway.

You parted from your husband with a lingering kiss after placing his black laurels on his head for the first time in all that time.

You could still smell the iron and ash scent of Ares on your clothes by the time you crossed paths with your favorite brother. Part of you hoped he noticed your absence--you longed to gush about your newfound love--but the rest of you prayed you got to keep the secret and your privacy just a bit longer.

“It’s been a while, sister,” Thanatos greeted after he reaped the man whose wife poisoned him under your influence.

“We all need a break from time to time, Than. Remind me, how long was your first vacation with Zag?”

His cheeks colored with a blush. “Fair enough.” He cleared his throat. “Was your break restful?”

You fought the urge to touch the small vial of Ares’ ichor he’d given to you as a symbol of his vow at your wedding, the one that hung under the silver collar you war that was so similar to Than’s, the one that Ares had the match to on a cord under his breastplate. “And then some.” Your heart longed for your lover already, but you both had a job to do and secrets to keep from enemies that might try to use your bond against each other.

“I am glad. Truly. You deserved to relax for a while.” With that, he nodded at you and vanished in his customary green flash.

Time, as demonstrated by the six month leave of absence, passed differently for gods than it did mortals. Years passed in the blink of an eye without you really noticing. Here and there your strange schedule aligned with his and allowed the two of you the time to thoroughly enjoy each other’s company once more. So it was no big surprise when you went a while without seeing him.

‘A while’ being roughly a human year.

In that year, you had noticed a few odd things. The wars you saw taking place held none of the ferocity that Ares brought with him like a perfume. The vial of ichor seemed cooler against your skin rather than brimming with the heat that always seemed to radiate off of him. You’d assumed it was due to Ares staying at House War to spend time with his sons, the twins Aphrodite didn’t lift a hand to help raise.

You only learned how wrong you were when Hermes suddenly skidded to a stop in front of you, blocking the temple door you’d been about to leave through. It was only after you snapped, “This had better be important, boy; I have things to attend to,” that you noticed the panic on his face and the alarming amount of golden ichor on his hands.

“Hera ordered me to fetch you,” he rushed out in that speedy way of talking he always had. “You must come to her at once!”

“What’s happened?” Your hand drifted to the silver colored dagger at your hip, another gift from Ares, this one from the last time you saw him. Worry lanced through your heart in the seconds before he answered. Still, you tried to reason with yourself that the fear was for naught. Ares was a god after all. The iron and ash smell wafting around you was your imagination, nothing more.

“It’s Ares.” Or not. “Hera told me to get you because he’s your Fated. I thought it was strange since the two of you hardly know each other, but with the shape he’s in there really wasn’t time to argue--”

“Hermes!” you cut him off. “What. Happened?”

“Giants caught him!” he yelped, fearing retribution from the goddess of the concept. “Kept him in chains for a year. She’s not sure he’ll pull through.”

Your blood chilled in a way it hadn’t since your little brother, Death, had been brought into the world. “Where is he, Hermes? Has she taken him to Olympus? Or is he home in Thrace?”

The fleet-footed god faltered. “I-I’m not sure. She mentioned something about moving him--”

“Find them, boy,” you snarled, vision clouding red around the edges with rage at the lack of information. “Go to Olympus and find out where my husband is!”

With wide eyes and another yelp, Hermes vanished. Only to reappear a breath later panting, “She’s moved him to Thrace!”

“Take me to him.”

#ares x reader #ares imagine #ares hades imagine #ares hades x reader #hades imagine #hades game imagine #hades supergiant imagine #reader insert #nemesis!au

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zid1an · 4 years

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a while ago I asked if anyone would want to see a preview first chapter of thirteen years. this is not that. what you do get however is jiang wanyin’s drunk adventure, revised and written with love

Jiang Wanyin is drunk, Lan Zhan eventually comes to realize. He watches him from across the table in an attempt to reconcile with this truth. They aren’t within the confines of the Cloud Recesses and Jiang Wanyin is dressed mostly inconspicuously. Consequences for the circumstances are therefore unlikely.

So Jiang Wanyin is... drunk. Sitting lopsidedly, his head swaying side to side to a beat that Lan Zhan cannot hear, and smiling. A content smile that fits disarmingly well with his sharp features. His cheeks are flushed, eyes bright. There are a few strands of hair framing his face. Lan Zhan starts, realizing he may be staring a bit too intently.

I will get both myself and Jiang Wanyin through this evening with subtlety and patience. Great patience. And subtlety. We will be very subtle.

Jiang Wanyin is drunk, and Lan Zhan is fine.

Except Jiang Wanyin is now also much, much too close to Lan Zhan’s face.

“I feel like I can see you better like this,” Jiang Wanyin announces, grinning lopsidedly with a look in his eyes that indicates that his behavior is an intentional decision made to bother him.

Lan Zhan stares at him, unimpressed. He has to fight to keep his eyes from crossing.

Jiang Wanyin sighs exaggeratedly, the scent of alcohol drifting into Lan Zhan’s face, and drawls, dialect heavy, “I mean, your expressions are clearer, this way. It’s nice.” He sits back and stretches. “It’s fun to figure out what you’re thinking, you know. Right now, for example,” he lifts his cup to cover his mouth, sharp eyes belying his demeanor, “I think you kind of want me dead.”

Jiang Wanyin is an uninhibited drunk, Lan Zhan observes flatly. Their waiter returns, refilling their pot to Lan Zhan’s chagrin. “So how do these two esteemed patrons know each other?”

Jiang Wanyin points at himself with an affronted frown, as if he is shocked to find that he wasn’t recognized on sight. He opens his mouth to speak, eyebrows furrowed, and Lan Zhan senses that whatever is going to come out of Jiang Wanyin’s mouth will become a hindrance on the subtlety that he has somehow managed to maintain so far.

“San-“ was all he was able to voice before Lan Zhan places the silencing spell on him. Jiang Wanyin mppf’s with a roll of his eyes.

Lan Zhan suppresses a long-suffering sigh before speaking, “Third meeting.”

The waiter blinks vacantly, “Meeting?”

Lan Zhan sits, comprehending his own graceless lie.

Mn. I have made a terrible mistake.

His ears have begun prickling as his words finish sinking in. Lan Zhan imagines this is the feeling a man possessed would experience after being gifted a small shovel and with it dedicating himself to digging an unending pit. Or perhaps a grave. He looks over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder, unable to make eye contact. “Courtship,” he finally adds, having resigned to lowering himself further into the dirt.

Their waiter smiles indulgently at his answer and retreats, surely taking with him whatever remained of Lan Zhan’s pride.

The silencing spell must have worn off, for Jiang Wanyin yawns and points at him, accusatory. “Lan Wangji, you haven’t been sneaking drinks when I wasn’t looking, have you?” he asks suspiciously.

Lan Zhan, still avoiding eye contact but at least confident in this, replies, “I have not.”

Jiang Wanyin squints at him, “Are you sure?” Lan Zhan knows he would have fallen asleep by now if he had, and so he nods, absently taking note of the cracks in the ceiling.

“Then why are your ears so red?” Jiang Wanyin asks, voice earnestly curious. In the corner of Lan Zhan’s eye he can see that Jiang Wanyin is leaning forward again. He avoids eye contact with him more insistently.

A moment passes. “Lan Wangji, are you listening to me?”

Another moment. “Hanguang-Jun, it’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you. Surely that’s one of your rules?”

It is. One copy of Virtue as punishment. The silence stretches, taut. Lan Zhan should have been expecting recoil.

“Gege.” Lan Zhan freezes. He finally turns his head to see Jiang Wanyin grinning triumphantly. He feels his previous embarrassment grow twice its size, creeping down into his shoulders from his ears. “So you heard me that time, huh?”

“I was not ignoring Jiang Wanyin.”

“You were.”

I was. Lan Zhan, in lieu of responding, covers his face with his hands.

“Why are your ears turning even more red, gege?”

“Jiang Wanyin, we are in public,” Lan Zhan says, muffled.

Lan Zhan is suddenly blessed with silence. He can almost see Jiang Wanyin thinking; he imagines it’s another scowl, though with a scholarly dignity and focus.

Xiongzhang would never allow me to forget the amount of time I must have spent with Jiang Wanyin to picture that so vividly.

The energy in the air shifts, faintly colder. “Gege, look at me, please.”

Jiang Wanyin is shaving years off my life. Lan Zhan does not look.

“Please, look at me.”

Lan Zhan’s hands twitch, but he does not look.

“Lan Wangji, please,” and Lan Zhan is only so strong willed, so he moves his hands and he sees...

Jiang Wanyin frowning, though it’s different than before. “Am I that embarrassing to be seen with?” he asks, voice bitter and expression unreadable.

It is very sudden, the way Lan Zhan feels profoundly lost. “Jiang Wanyin is not embarassing.”

Jiang Wanyin takes another pause. He looks up at the ceiling, jaw clenched, and Lan Zhan can see now that he was right about Jiang Wanyin’s thinking scowl.

A hiccup punctures the silence, and Lan Zhan is reminded with a sharp jolt that Jiang Wanyin is drunk. He would not be so forthcoming otherwise. He feels as if his head has just surfaced above water.

Jiang Wanyin huffs, face turned down now, his face relaxing but eyes remaining sharp. Lan Zhan almost doesn’t hear him when he says, startlingly quiet, “Lan Wangji, I don’t think I really hate you.”

Lan Zhan tenses, panicked. “Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Wanyin continues unhindered, a warped smile taking the place of his previous frowns, “I don’t think I want you to hate me, either. I’m scared that,” he laughs scornfully, “I’m scared that I’ll become so cruel and unpleasant that no one will care enough to uncover the parts of me that are worth knowing anymore.”

The words remain simmering in the humid evening air, and Lan Zhan is horrified to see tears rolling down Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks. Lan Zhan carefully eases his cup, now empty, away from the teardrops on the table.

“I don’t hate Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Zhan states, as gently as he can. “Not going anywhere.”

Jiang Wanyin looks up, although Lan Zhan can’t be sure that Jiang Wanyin really sees him through the tears that are still spilling down his cheeks.

Jiang Wanyin is very beautiful, says his useless brain, even through the pang of sympathy that lances through his chest. Two copies of Virtue.

Jiang Wanyin whispers mournfully, “I don’t want A-Ling to grow to resent me.”

A lump forms in Lan Zhan’s throat, suffocating. “He will not. Jiang Wanyin is doing a good job. He will know that Jiang Wanyin is doing a good job.”

And though it may speak more to Jiang Wanyin’s lack of sobriety than Lan Zhan’s choice of words, Jiang Wanyin smiles. An open expression that Lan Zhan shouldn’t get used to seeing. An open expression that Lan Zhan wants to get used to seeing.

Jiang Wanyin is truly very beautiful. Three copies.

And then Jiang Wanyin slams a hand on the table, startling Lan Zhan out of his (foolish) stupor, and stands on shaking legs. “Well, I’m exhausted and never want to think about any of this ever again! Good night, Lan Wangji,” he announces, too loud for the establishment, and for a moment Lan Zhan is convinced that he’ll make it to his room in one piece.

It is a brief moment, however, because after one strong first step Jiang Wanyin begins to list to his right and Lan Zhan moves quickly to steady him.

Jiang Wanyin frowns up at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Bright eyes. There’s more hair framing his face than before, curling slightly. “Lan Wangji, if you don’t stand me up I’m going to fall asleep here.”

Lan Zhan blinks. His face must be turning red as well, with how warm he feels. “Mn.”

Jiang Wanyin is back on his feet for what must be no less than a few heartbeats before he attempts another unsupported step forward.

...

Ask for help, Jiang Wanyin.

The man in question sways a little on his feet before turning around, huffing out a sigh, and asking, with great difficulty, “...Gege, can you help me get to bed?”

Lan Zhan glances outside, sees the moon rising over the hills. It would be best if I buried myself now.

He then looks back at Jiang Wanyin, who is watching him with bright eyes and half curled hair and flushed cheeks, and wonders with great solemnity how and when it was that he began to compromise his pride.

However long ago the waiter last left our table, perhaps.

This is to say that Lan Zhan is holding Jiang Wanyin up by his arms and walking them towards the stairs before he can even ask the innkeeper if they have a shovel.

He gets them up half a flight of stairs before Jiang Wanyin, apparently having processed Lan Zhan’s embarrassment from before, looks up at him and, no longer keeping up a sober appearance in the privacy of the stairwell, mumbles, “So you intend to court me, Lan Wangji? I hope you know,” he stops and heaves a long sigh, “that I won’t make it easy for you.”

Lan Zhan continues walking them both upwards, too focused on their upward momentum to allow himself the shame. Just make fun of me directly, Jiang Wanyin.

They stand together now, more or less, in front of the door to Jiang Wanyin’s room.

Lan Zhan is not going to answer Jiang Wanyin.

He opens the door and gracelessly maneuvers them in. Jiang Wanyin does him the favor of sitting of his own volition, the bed holding his weight silently. As gently as he can without being indecent, Lan Zhan pulls off his boots. Removes his hair pin, taking the time to untangle some of the knots that had formed over the day of travel. Carefully lays him on his side.

Jiang Wanyin will forget.

And yet, “I do know,” Lan Zhan says, wearily accepting that Jiang Wanyin turns him into a fool that simply can’t not say the most embarrassing things that come to mind.

Jiang Wanyin is fighting to keep his eyes open now that he’s in bed, but he looks up at Lan Zhan and hums inquisitively, “Mm?”

“I do know,” Lan Zhan has to manually turn his body towards the door, “that you won’t make it easy.”

#formatting chunks of text on tumblr mobile is a very particular kind of torture #the title is halfway a misnomer. unless it isn’t. don’t worry about it #train of thought #au: thirteen years is a long time #zhancheng #lan wangji #jiang cheng #mdzs #cql #i’ve decided after writing this that calling lan zhan gege should qualify as a hate crime #also i have a-cheng frowning so much..#anyway. how yall doing #when i say revised i mean i spent the last four maybe five hours fixing all the things that stood out to me as distinctly #‘not lan zhan’ whatever the fuck that means #it’s so embarrassing tagging these things by the way . like a lowly serf begging for scraps #alright anyway good talk

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sicpvon · 2 years

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I put some bits from my writing into Inferkit and here are the results!

I walk closer to the fire before nodding, because to be truthful I am lost, just maybe not in the way he's referring to. Also because I'm scared he’ll shoo me away if I say I am not, and this is the only source of warmth for miles as far as I can tell.

I'm freezing, and almost broke, and in this much solitude I'm beginning to understand what true loneliness is.

He's not some cat that lives under your feet, he's actually been on my mind. I've been thinking about him a lot and wondering how he's been. This girl with the gloves, I remember her name, but I can't remember his. Not that he is that memorable, there's nobody named Tim here, except that he's been in my mind a lot, I just don't know how to get his attention.

And I say to the fire,

I was found in a basket, with nothing but my hat and my harmonica. What had happened? Joxter didn’t know he had a kid until recently. Mymble barely remembers me at all, let alone what had happened to me. Neither know me that well beyond what I let them know. I want them around, but I don’t know how to treat them like parents I suppose.

It was also discovered I’m slightly prodigy musically speaking. I can imitate Joxter’s drums and even Joxter himself when he holds a guitar.

So at some point they decided a new pair of names was necessary for me. Mine being Bludimus the Bolt. It translates to Immortal Fire of the Free-Lance Thunder god-ship. Mymble insisted on Bludimus, but as more kids have started calling me Bolt, she’s got more claim on it now. All around, it’s not a bad name I suppose.

Honestly…naming kids is really hard.

It wasn’t as cold when the sun finally showed themself. Whatever creature that had showed up at my camp last night has run off sometime after I fell back asleep. That was a shame but at least I didn't have to make extra coffee.

Too soon it was seven AM and only one bird called back and forth, soothing me for a minute with its song. However, once I’d decided the world hadn’t devolved into a potato death camp I lay there waiting for another thirty minutes in the blazing sun for them to stop laughing at me.

The sun showed itself just after eight, heating up the desert near the truck so that I had no choice but to turn on the engine. There was some wheeling and scurrying around and taking stock of the entire situation.

But when I looked over my breath caught. Moomintroll had this deep look in his eyes that captivated me entirely. With just one look it was like the world was imploding and expanding all at once. My body felt warm all over and I didn't want anything in the world but Moomintroll to keep looking at me like that. With love. Such a deep and unyielding love.

"Tell me more about the bandits, Sneeze, quickly!" said Moomintroll. "There isn't time to explain but I can show you what will happen if you don't make that delivery soon."

"Okay!

Let me see!"

We spent some more of those last few precious hours together and told each other all about the part we had played in our respective countries. The questions that should be asked about someone and if a man runs with a question, you know that he finds you amusing. I shared my riches and wine with him and his mom came up and started to brag about her oldest. She had saved her fourth child's life with the medusa fragment. And I let out this laugh that nearly made both of us cry. It must have been an object that changed some deep underlying mechanisms inside him. I was glad, because if it was the reeds I would have abandoned the Skwah without hesitation. But I wouldn't abandon a child. It's just how things were.

"And my kingdom is the greatest country on Earth," said Moomintroll.

#moomin #moomins #my writing #at least the bold is #inferkit #i guess Snufkin's new name is Sneeze #moominvalley

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leviiattacks · 4 years

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Two Faced | Chapter Five

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note :: just got diagnosed with covid so i have a lot of spare time on my hands so ummm send in any requests you have into my ask box i’d love to try doing headcanons!! → next part is here!!

Erwin sees the confused look you have and now he too seems lost as he shifts his line of vision to Levi. At that moment your husband slams his heel and grinds it onto your foot. Squirming around in your seat dealing with the stinging pain you catch on that you can't let Erwin think you're clueless.

Quickly, the look of confusion washes away from your features and you return his smile. "I'm willing to do what I must."

You think you've ruined this entirely because Erwin's eyes dart suspiciously between you and your husband. However, Hange intervenes, the interference seems to be enough for him to shake off any skepticism he senses.

Two hands hold onto your frame and squeeze your shoulders. Hange is standing up and seems ecstatic."You two are just so evil." they cackle to themself and you play along laughing too. You are not giving Levi the opportunity to ram into your foot again. Hange who is practically a personified ray of Sunshine at all times does still seem a little down, you did pick up on it when you entered the room. Maybe it was just you overthinking, that's what you assure yourself with.

Then it settles in your bones. Evil? Blinking you turn to look at Levi hoping for some sort of indication about whatever is going on.

"She wouldn't listen to me at all, said she felt the need to step in and help the Empire in some way." His tone is monotonous, still not sparing you a glance and you want to kick him in the shins. He's usually much more affectionate and you're afraid Squad Leader Hange and Commander Erwin will figure out this is all a facade.

"It's a noble commitment to put yourself forward for such a risky position, I see why you and Lance Corporal Levi are a sound match." Erwin isn't smiling this time but his tone is content.

Mind now buzzing with ideas you want to fall face first into the carpeted floor of the office spread out like a starfish. You would prefer that instead of being left in the dark. Could they simply mention the name of whatever it is you've apparently offered to do?

Levi's clearly grimaces but then he moves to hold your hand rather boldly. Shaking him off isn't an available option because of his strong grip. "She wouldn't listen to me at all. If I had it my way she wouldn't step anywhere near enemy soil." He grumbles.

The fake concern he's trying to lace in his voice is having an effect on his two colleagues, they're eating it up and believe this act.

Enemy soil? Risky position? He has to be stealthily plotting your death because you see no other reason for why you would be sent off to venture anywhere near the enemy. You aren't even apart of their regime, or any regime for that matter, you're itching with nervousness and want to free your hand from his desperately.

The only emotion this man is good at feigning is straight boredom, he ignores the way your hand shakes and squirms, ignores how your palms are dampening with sweat, instead the way he holds onto you only strengthens. It's surprising that no one has said a word about the lack of chemistry between the two of you.

Suddenly Hange looks down at their pocket watch and hurriedly gets to their feet dragging Erwin up with them too. "Y/N, I have something to tell you later on, please do stop by HQ when you can, I expect that will be soon." They then tell Erwin that there's no time to loiter and that there are more important meetings to attend to.

Erwin leans into your ear and whispers. "He seems disturbed that you're putting yourself at risk. He means well." You wish that were the case but it isn't. Despite that the way Erwin tries to explain Levi's behavior is sweet.

Hange gives you a cute thumbs up but makes it a point that you need to speak later on, even as they're both walking out the door Hange keeps reminding you to meet up later on. The abnormal behavior between you and Levi may have been noticed but you know if that were the case Hange would have been more vocal about it.

"Combat classes start soon. We know this will all be difficult, building you up from scratch is hazardous but all in good time you will serve a key role in the liberation of Paradis."

Erwin's parting words are gracious.

And then both the Commander and Squad Leader leave, the room is empty but Levi doesn't even wait for the door to shut behind your two visitors.

He makes it a priority to throw your hand away from his, he's now methodically using his handkerchief to dust his fingers off. It's oddly ironic and enrages you because he's the one who grappled your hand into his grasp. What's the point when those same hands until recently looped around your waist in the middle of the night?

He thinks your hand is filthy, that you yourself are filthy and disgusting. At least that's what you think he thinks.

Crossing your arms over your chest you make your feelings known to Levi. You're frustrated beyond the way words can describe, it's not about how he refuses to touch you. Admittedly that does hurt you, makes your chest swell in remembrance of the old days but you really just want to know what he's put you up to without your permission.

Not speaking you wait for him to take the hint but he doesn't get it or he refuses to acknowledge your existence, something tells you it's the latter because all he cares about is sanitizing his hands.

He always had been a clean freak but when he was enchanted it didn't take much for him to touch you. Part of you wonders if it's the nature of the touch that he wants to exterminate or the fact it's your skin he's come in contact with which is bothering him.

"Care to explain?"

"Touching someone such as yourself romantically gives me the urge to retch." The confession is as acidic as the after taste one has after a late night of drinking, but he has no problem telling you the blunt truth.

"I see." You shortly reply, you weren't asking about that, your question was directed more towards the conversation which just took place with his colleagues but now knowing he doesn't want to touch you has an emptying effect on your chest.

A silent minute passes, maybe two minutes, you're not sure all you're doing is eyeing the carpet thinking about how you would like to be asphyxiated and brought to your end, you can't handle this for much longer.

"Sign these papers, we need your written consent." His voice shows no hints hints of Lev. Last night may have been the last time you had a chance to witness him.

A stack of documents is thrown in front of you and then you see it right at the top of the pile. A sheet filled with general information, eyes skim over the "Purpose of employment" section and you don't know what churns in your stomach. Is it Exasperation? Nerves? Grief? It can't be pinpointed, it could be a mix of all three.

"An Informant."

Rereading the title you hold the paper in disbelief between your palms. "You told your regiment that I would be willing to spy in on enemy kingdoms?"

His hands rub at his forehead, he's not perturbed at all. "Is it in your blood to be ungrateful?" Brutally cynical his tone is rocky.

He moves - not even towards you but for some reason you flinch stopping him in his tracks almost immediately. Narrow ice cold eyes trace your face carefully for any signs of manipulation or deception. Gulping anxiously you know you have to be careful with what you say or do. Getting too comfortable or casual around him is a risk you are not willing to take.

"I don't think you understand. I do not have the abilities nor the skill to do this. I would cause more issues." You cautiously move to grab his arm but before you get there he takes a wide step back. He's clearly defining that there's a boundary. You won't step into his territory not when you've already invaded a large portion of it for so long.

"I am no witch. I still don't understand what happened." You mutter hoping he believes you or at least tries to.

"Then die." Levi hisses. He fixes you with his poisonous stare. "Make it quick."

Curse yourself to a life with this man who every step of the way is hoping for your death - maybe he'll even push you towards it purposefully one day. The alternative choice available is to die by the hands of that same man right now.

Guilt and regret are what you feel, you can't look death in the eye proudly. Not right now. If you can't commit to the promise you made mother then there is truly no point in making your way to the afterlife.

Cowardice is not the cause of death you want to present her with.

With a heavy heart you sign the papers.

It's been a few days since then, you've received training from some of Levi's squad, at first the combat is nerve wracking but you get to a level where you feel comfortable in terms of defense.

Oluo is slow, you've picked up on the way his stance predicts every move he's about to make. You're thankful for that because it makes training easier, he's oblivious to just how easy it is to read his movements and you snigger at that. Today he's trying a new technique, it consists of attempting to dive in the direction of one of your shoulders and suddenly darting at the other. It catches you off guard for a second but it's simple to block him. Jumping back from another surprise attack you lunge forward as if you're aiming for his face. He lights up thinking this is his chance unbeknownst to him you've already seen the open opportunity you've been waiting for. You can change the wager in this brawl. Swiftly ducking you undercut him with one of your legs, his balance has been knocked and he stumbles teetering by a thread.

A solid kick to his stomach is all it takes for him to collapse to the ground grumbling in vexation.

Mikasa has been helping you with one on one combat and the extra hours of training behind the stables has clearly been of benefit.

Thinking back to your training sessions with Mikasa you frown, not because of the way she flipped you and shoved you into the dirt, no that part was quite exhilarating. It's Sasha. She's been on your mind. She has to be feeling left out, that's your fault you've kept her in the dark about joining the regime, how could you attend training with her? Your maid waiting on you whilst you were training? Impossible.

The last problem you wish to arise is everyone finding out you're Duchess Ackerman. No one has to know about that minor detail, in fact when you informed Hange and Erwin of your decision they strongly agreed it would be best to hide it.

"I think we should get you strapped into some gear. See how good you really are in the dexterity department." Oluo is spitefully mumbling under his breath red faced.

Offering him your hand he looks like he wants to smack it away, You don't have time for this, you were planning on dropping by and paying Hange their more than overdue visit after training hours were up.

ODM-gear doesn't look too hard, you're sure you can work out the mechanisms if given some time. Calculating and shifting time blocks in your head you can come to an end at Six, if and only if you're able to rush past ODM training.

"Okay, I admit you were tired today I could tell. I'll strap myself into some gear."

At this new new challenge Oluo willingly takes your hand and you heave him up.

He's got a cocky shit-eating grin sprawled across his face as he pats your back enthusiastically.

"Good luck, you're in for one hell of a ride."

Three dimensional ODM-gear, a contraption that is very different to a sword or dagger. Most soldiers find it difficult to master the balancing of all their body weight whilst simultaneously gliding through the air with the grapple hooks. This is why introductory lessons in balance, momentum and effective weight distribution are a must.

It's been instructed that you won't be using ODM-gear nearly as much as other members of the regiment, you're training to become a spy after all and ODM-gear is very obviously visible when a person is strapped into their uniform. Nevertheless it's still a requirement to be able to use it. It's a hurdle because it's not your forte by any means but you can't continue avoiding it.

When living as the Duchess you deemed it pivotal to only interact with a limited number of Levi's colleagues, those who worked at the estate couldn't be avoided such as Mikasa but apart from that Hange was the only outsider you spoke to (Before Erwin had come along). You don't know if you regret that decision because it's definitely why everyone is cackling as you thrash around, they have no idea he has a wife and if they do they show no inclination of knowing you are that woman.

Sniggers can be heard as you struggle to center your strength fully, your instructor bellows at you. "No, come on. STOP FLAILING AROUND!" Particles of his saliva fly in your face and that only feeds into your embarrassment. Paralyzed you don't know what to do, he tells you to not move around then the next minute barks at you to not give up, repeats that you have the agility level equivalent of a sick child.

You've been stuck in this upside down position for more time than you can imagine, at some point a large majority of the scouts including Oluo double down in laughter whenever you make a mistake - they berate you when you are trying your best.

Legs kicking out you're panicking and want to escape the harness you're in.

Oluo was right, nothing could prepare you for this.

Mikasa when she isn't busy assisting Levi is a part of the regime too, that's why she's grinding her teeth this morning when she walks into the training grounds and sees the whole scene play out right before her eyes.

She wants to desperately step in and stop this because you being forced into ODM training without having your core strength developed is unfair.

Then a yell is heard from the crowd "GO Y/N!! LISTEN TO ME ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS KEEP CALM!" Both you and Mikasa turn to see Sasha standing next to her.

Sasha? Mikasa knows very well how you forbade her to follow you today, you gave her the day off to visit her family.

"I thought Y/N warned yo-"

"I am dedicated in my service to the Lady, if she chooses to do this I will be by her side to support her. She does not have to feel embarrassed."

Members of the corps are eyeing her weirdly when she says "Lady" she doesn't know you're keeping your identity secret, that was the reason for giving her time away, you were afraid she'd slip up and expose you but simply hearing Sasha proudly announce her commitment for you in front of all these people knocks the wind right out of your chest. You've never felt this much importance before.

Sasha's motivation is all you need because by a miraculous turn of events you manage to steady your breathing pattern and find it within yourself to focus on your core. Wobbling shakily the transition is far from smooth but you flip yourself right side up, the muscles in your calf ache and throb with pain but you've done it.

Grinning from ear to ear at your two friends you feel light-headed with relief.

"Took her long enough." Levi sneers. He's made his way to the front of the crowd, you wonder when he got here. Beaming at him you think your presentation might be enough to discourage his usual response. You're incorrect.

"She's a shame to this squad, there is no need in motivating someone of her rank." Shallow breaths puffing out of you it comes to your attention that he's addressing Sasha.

She ignores what he has to say about you and stays silent, any normal person would have their head hanging down in shame but she looks into his eyes with a determination that takes your breath away.

He pays her no mind after that and turns back to where you're still struggling to keep steady. "Don't think you're hot shit." Your bottom teeth dig into your lip, and your throat suddenly clamps down on you restricting your breath. "She's no good at combat, no good at using her gear. Do you only excel at spreading lies, Cadet?" The way he's now completely indignant in the way he speaks stings. He doesn't even bother to sound normal in front of Mikasa or Sasha anymore, it makes you manually hollow your cheeks trying to keep your tears at bay.

Lies, you know what he's referencing. You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt and throw him to the muddy ground. That's what he deserves for prodding and poking at your vulnerabilities.

He doesn't understand the degree at which all these sudden changes are affecting you, in his eyes this is light work and shouldn't impact you at all, that's why when you feel a muscle contraction and reel backwards, rapidly falling back into that cursed upside down position. He scoffs, doesn't even move to check if you're okay.

Whispers circle around you and even some of the cadets who participated in ridiculing you step forward to take you out of your harness. However, Sasha and Mikasa get there first and shoot them with their intense glares, the both of them work on hoisting you out of your gear.

Levi takes one last look at you before he storms away convinced you're faking, what else would a runt like you do to escape the situation?

In his mind you lost your momentum and your ship capsized because of your own self sabotage.

Little does he know all that has truly lost momentum is the inner-workings of your heart and that is all thanks to him.

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