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#like how did people functioned in this palace before her
nadjabear · 8 months
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I blanked out and watched 11 episodes of The Apothecary Diaries in December and thinking of it I don't really like it lol but it's so confusing to me because it was boring but entertaining at the same time??? It's pretty harmless but I really don't get the hype it's just pretty average to me
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oh-look-at-her · 7 months
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"I can do....terrible things to you."
Pairing: agardian!reader x Loki
Warnings: profanity, PinV, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, use of pet names (Prince, princess, pet, dearest, etc), Loki is a warning in itself, degradation, mocking, name calling (just once I think), choking (for a little while), just smut in general
Author's note: I just wanted to say this is my first ever written fic so have mercy on me. I just really wanted to use that sentence from the Loki series🤭It was also supposed to be shorter...it did not keep to that. I also wanted to say that with the word "undergarment" I do not mean modern day underwear. I mean undergarment as in from the 1700's (like depicted in the photo underneath this text). Don't ask me why I decided to do that, I don't know. I think I've just been watching too much Outlander these last few days. Alr I'll stop my rambling now. I hope everyone enjoys♡
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“Oh dear gods, another ball. How many of these are they going to organize?” Was my first thought when Thor asked me to go as his guest yet again the other day. I thought I wouldn’t be going.
And yet, here i am. Standing in a corner in the main hall of the majestic golden palace that the formerly mentioned prince calls home, with a glass of liquor in one hand and a small snack i grabbed from a faraway table in the other. Though i did want to support Thor in his victories of the week, that was not the true reason i came to another loud party.
“Quite the partygoer lately. Tell me, is it just because you enjoy being around obnoxiously drunk people or are you trying to charm my dear brother?"
And there it is. The infamous Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard, God of mischief and lies, to the irritation of many people. I know I wouldn't mind him getting mischievous at all though....
I eat the little one-bite snack in hopes of it distracting me from my thoughts, but to no avail.
Meanwhile, Loki keeps talking with a grin on his face and a sultry tone to his voice.
"If it is the latter, I suggest you stop, since he seems to have quite the interest in that other woman he's been eyeing all night."
I give him the best cocky look I can muster and answer back; "Thor does not have any interest in me and neither do I in him. He gets to ogle whoever he wishes, I thought you would know this, being his brother. Tell me, where is the sudden interest in your brother's love life coming from, dear prince."
"Oh please, a blind man would know he was shamelessly into her. Besides, how could I not be interested when my brother continuously invites the same woman to his... Celebrations."
He ogles me suspiciously, as if he doesn't believe I wasn't interested in that loveable blonde buffoon. I myself have a different type of God in mind. I opt to try and change his mind.
"Thor and I are friends. Why are you so interested in this?"
He hums dismissively and ogles the ongoing party.
"No interest in dancing?" he changes the subject.
"No, this dress is not a dancing type dress. Too tight and heavy. I should've opted for another, but it's too late now." he looked my dress up and down as I spoke, seemingly uninterested, though his tone of voice said otherwise.
"Well, beauty over functionality, isn't it? Seems as if you've succeeded in that area, at least."
My stomach flips and the corners of my mouth lift up into a faint taunting smile as I look up at him. "You think I look beautiful?"
He looks back at me, a faint trace of surprise tainting his expression. "Well yes, I wouldn't have said what i did if I did not think it. When have I ever been known to lie about my opinions, dearest?"
My mind jumps at the mention of the pet name and the compliment paired with it and although I tried to hide my surprise, the faint smirk on the God's face tells me enough. Nevertheless, I look at him with a playful light in my voice.
"Well, you are the god of lies. I would expect you to live up to this Title, as you do your other titles."
"Ah, and what titles are these, pray tell?" he asks as he looks at me with disdain, as if I offended him.
"Those of you being the god of mischief, as well as a relentless trickster. Though people say you usually can't do much harm." I chuckle at Sif's offensive words towards the prince of Asgard.
He chuckles with me, though I suspect because of something else, because his expression had turned darker, his gaze falling on mine again.
"Well, I assure you that I can do... Terrible things to you and anybody I wish."
He says in a low, dark voice, his unrelenting gaze catching the widening of my eyes and the heaving of my chest at his threatening words. Although his words do anything but scare me.
Is that a promise? I think to myself, my mind running wild with the different context his words could be said in.
He grins at me, still not letting his eyes wander from mine. "Do you want it to be?" he suddenly asks.
"What?" I manage to spurt out, shock and excitement having taken over my mind.
"Do you want it to be a promise?" he repeats his question with that same dark, knowing smile on his face.
Did I say that out loud? I'm certain I didn't.
"No, you didn't." he answers my thoughts once again and fear and embarrasment seep into my bones as I realize how he had known.
"How long have you been reading my mind?" I ask him with a shaky voice. He chuckles again, knowing he has the upper hand now. He drops his gaze to his shoulder gently touching mine. When did that happen?
"While you were inquiring why I was so interested in my brother's 'love life' as you put it."
Oh. My. Gods. He had seen and heard every single thing I had been thinking. How embarrassing. I wanted to dig a hole to Hel and stay there until I had melted into the fires forever.
"That's a bit dramatic." he tells me. I move away from him with a scowl, taking care that we didn't touch anymore so he couldn't read my mind any longer, but he already knew all of it. He had heard all my lewd thoughts about him and he thought it funny.
He still has that annoyingly handsome smirk plastered on his face as he gestures for us to move away from the busy crowd and into the halls that lead to various rooms. I decide to follow him. All the harm that could be done had already been done, so why not? He knew it all now. He is silent as we walk through the halls, muffled music still being heard from the party.
"You know, I would expect you to say something...." I trail off as he stops walking and opens a door we arrived at. He gestures for me to enter the room.
It is a lavishly elegant room, accents of gold layered the cream colored walls, a nightstand with multiple drawers and a bed with silky sheets line the left wall, while the other side of the room is dedicated to a roaring fireplace and two lounge couches in the same shade of green as the silk sheets on the bed. In the middle of the wall I am facing, there is a lavish balcony that had a beautiful view towards Asgard. Loki walks towards the bed and sits down on the golden bench in front of it.
I stay by the door, looking at him expectantly, hoping he would clear up the fact that we just entered (what I presumed is) his room without a word being said. He sighs and finally opens his mouth.
"Yes, you're right. I should say something." he pauses for a moment, looking me up and down, though this time not in a rude manner. No, this time it felt more like... Admiration. The God of Mischief and Lies is looking at me with admiration.
"You're a beautiful woman. I must say, I had my eye on you ever since you entered this castle for the first time. Though I thought my brother had claimed you for his own, due to him always inviting you to these gatherings. When you told me this wasn't the case, I decided to see if you were being truthfull or not. I must admit, it was an invasion of your privacy, but I do not regret it one bit."
He gestures for me to join him and sit next to him. I oblige and walked over to him, opting to stand due to the uncomfortability of my dress. He notices this and looked down with a smile gracing his lips.
"So yes, what I said is true. You are beautiful, though this dress could never do you justice. Plus, you seem incredibly uncomfortable in it."
I scoff at his words. "What, are you going to offer to take it off of me? I've heard that line a thousand times, it is not original. Besides, I very well think this dress makes me look exquisite. Why else would I wear it?"
"I did not say you didn't look beautiful in the dress. I am merely noting that it does not do you justice." he answers cockily
"And what would do me justice then, Prince?" I spit back at him, getting a little annoyed at his degrading tone, making my mind wander to unholy places once more.
His low chuckle echoes in my ears. Gods, that chuckle. It's so... Seductive.
"Won't tell, princess." the pet name surprises me. Sure, I had called him Prince, but he is a genuine Prince. I feigned nonchalance.
"Ah, there it is. Let me guess, you'd have to take off my dress to show me?" his playful expression turns into one of ice, filled with lust and seduction. It was a thrilling sight to see.
"You'd let me." he said, with full confidence, because he knew it was true. I didn't need to answer him as he stands and closes the small distance between us, making me look up because of his obnoxiously tall figure.
The playful twinkle in his eye had been replaced with something dark, possessive almost. My breath hitches in my throat as his hand ghosts up until it reached the dip of my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him.
And I let him.
His gaze was ice cold as he inspected my entire face and figure again. Gods, I love it when he does that. He dips his head until I feel his breath near my ear.
"I know." he whispers into my ear. This asshole was reading my mind any time he could, but even if i could stop him, I don't think i would. He lifts his head to look at me again, this time a devillish smirk is playing at the corners of his mouth again.
Please kiss me already.
I beg to myself and I know he heard it. He finally dips his head down to my lips, I part them as I desperately await his kiss. He doesn't kiss me yet, though. He chuckles at my sigh of frustration, though it sounds more like a whine than I had intended.
His amused and torturous gaze lands on my desperate one. "What is it, pet?" he whispers against my lips. So close.... He knows exactly what he's doing. Of course he does. I'd waited so long, stayed up so many nights because of the thought of him being this close. Or closer....
My eyebrows furrowed at the thought of these nights and I know he saw. I know he knows exactly what I'm thinking, but I don't care. I want him. And I'll have him.
"Will you, now? Last I checked, I'm the Prince here. You are under my command, are you not?" he outright laughs at my attempt to kiss him, get him closer to me in any way. He moves away from me, opting to move towards one of the lavish Green couches on the other side of the room. He looks at me over his shoulder while he did so, plaguing me, teasing me with the distance he's creating.
I stare at my hands, nervously playing with my fingers whilst trying not to grieve the loss of his touch. His hand on my waist, His chest pressing against mine, his lips so close to mine... I hear him walking around for a bit while I'm still fidgeting with my fingers, not daring to look his way unless asked.
"Don't get shy now, pet. Look at me." I lift my head to see him sitting comfortably on the couch, his fine asgardian leather suddenly having been replaced with a pair of comfortable looking black lounge pants and... No shirt.
He's trying to get under my skin, I know it. But I don't care one bit as I let my gaze travel along the impressive muscle tone of the Prince, trailing from his shoulders to his chest, from his chest to his toned abs, from his abs to that perfect V-shape that's only disrupted by the thin fabric of his pants.
I let my eyes wander further up now, admiring the strong biceps and, Gods, those perfectly veiny arms. And finally those hands...i could stare at them all day, just the sight of them makes me almost want to drool.
He's so perfect. And he knows it as I finally meet his icy gaze and that same goddamn smirk that made my heart freeze and my hands tremble.
He knows it when he gestures for me to walk towards him and close the distance he so painstakingly created just a minute ago.
He knows it when he stands before me, pulling at the strong threads that were holding my dress together, making the first layer of my dress fall to the ground.
He knows it when he carefully unties my corset with gentle patience, unlacing it with his slender fingers and finally taking it off of me.
He knows it when I'm standing before him in my undergarment, looking me up and down, not with just hunger or lust, but with adoration and relief. The sheer fabric does nothing to hide my body, even showing off my nipples that had hardened due to the cold night air.
And gods, does he know it when he guides my arms to lay on his shoulders, peppering tender kisses onto every inch of skin he can find, pulling me closer and finally granting me the kiss I had been longing for ever since I had seen him for the first time.
His lips capture mine so perfectly in a dance of passion, not at all what I had expected from a God of mischief. I had expected something feral, completely driven by lust. Hel, I'm not sure I even expected him to outright kiss me. No, this exceeds all my expectations.
He carefully bites my lower lip, granting him entrance to lick inside my mouth and taste me, deepening the kiss. The feeling of excitement and arousal growing with every passing second.
He grinds himself into me, pulling me closer and closer. I can feel his cock getting hard through the fabric of his pants, making me clench my cunt around nothing. My hands roamed through his hair, not nearly as greasy as I had imagined, instead I am met with soft curls and a pretty sound coming from the Prince's lips as I tug at them.
He's everywhere. His arms around my waist, squeezing it tight and keeping me close to him. He overtowers me by far, and he has to lean down a distance even with me standing on my tiptoes to reach. His scent, his taste, his hands.
Gods, I need him. He breaks the kiss, but not without tugging at my bottom lip another time, a little rougher now, though.
His breath is steady, whereas mine is ragged and uncontrollable as he rests his forehead against mine, his lips still hovering so close to mine.
"I know, I need you too. You've no idea how long I've wanted you." he whispers, again answering my thoughts. I didn't mind this time, though. I want him to hear and see everything I am thinking. I want him to know what I want.
But that doesn't mean I'm not going to play first. He had been so gentle and loving and it feels so good to be worshipped, but that would have to wait for another time.
He lifts his head up to look at me. "What is it?" he asks, curiosity lacing his voice.
I smile at him, hoping it looks as seductive and entrancing as I want it to and take his hand, slowly guiding him towards the bed.
Upon reaching it, I lie down comfortably in the midst of the bed, tugging at him to do the same. He climbs on top of me, again ogling me with curiosity. This surprises me, if he was still reading my mind he would know what I am doing.
"Opting to not read my mind anymore?" I ask, with a smile.
"I thought it'd be more fun if I don't know exactly what you're going to do before you do it." he grins, seeing that this has pleased me. Now I can do what i want.
I tangle my hands in his hair again, watching his face as it contorts into a relaxed expression as I tug a bit at the strands again. I bring his lips to mine again, but this time, I want it to be different. I bite his lip roughly, making him open his mouth in surprise as I lick into him now, tasting berries and a tinge of alcohol on his tongue. I moan into his mouth at the taste and it seems he finally realized what I was trying to do. He kisses me back hungrily, seizing control again, much to my liking. He abruptly pulls away afterwards, much to my dismay.
He looks down at me with a knowing smirk on his face. "What's wrong, princess? Don't want me to be nice anymore? What do you want? Go on, say it. I know you know exactly what it is." he urges me on with a sultry tone to his words.
"Please...i want you to be mean to me."
"Really?" he feigns surprise, "whatever would you mean by that, darling?" he asks, starting to tease me by peppering kisses along my jaw.
"I want-" he shifts his body so he's lying perfectly on top of me. I can feel his cock rubbing against my clothed cunt and it sends a shiver down my spine. "Please just-" his kisses grow hungrier as he guides himself down to my neck. "Could you please be rough..." he bites down on my neck, emitting a gasp from me. I think that was his answer to my plea.
He is indeed rougher now, biting and suckling on the soft skin of my neck, gradually moving down... To my shoulder... To my collarbone... And then. The hem of my undergarment.
He looks at me while twirling his finger around the measly little thread. The only thing that's between him and my bare body. The only thing he'd have to loosen before slipping my last piece of clothing from me and leaving me bare. And that's exactly what he did.
He slowly, teasingly pulls at the thread and folds the fabric to the side, revealing my tits to him. He rips his eyes from mine and finally meets my bare chest, looking at it like a starved man would a plate of hot food.
He started where he left off, just below my collarbone he peppered kisses and bites again. Slow, agonizing, teasing movements until he finally reached my hardened nipple, waiting, aching for him.
He hungrily takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, suckling on it with rough movements, his hand coming up to cup my other boob roughly. I whine at the sensation, his tongue lavishly doing its job in pleasuring me.
After a while, he flashes me a devillish smile before moving onto the other nipple, suckling at the same pace, much to my relief as it is the perfect pace and he knows this.
I squirm underneath him, whining and moaning as he keeps suckling on my nipple, the sensation making me crave for more. I grind against his hard-on and I swear I heard a whimper coming from the Prince's mouth. He stills for a moment, his hands clawing at my hips to stop me from moving.
"Be patient, pet. Let me enjoy you." is all he says before continuing to suck on my tits, keeping me on edge and increasing my arousal a thousand fold while doing so.
His hands explored my body with rough motions. Grabbing my waist, squeezing it, fondling my tit. Finally he reaches my shoulders, his hands slide down the length of my arms and he grabs my hands before pulling his mouth off of my nipple.
He sits up straight and, while never breaking eye contact, brings my right hand up to his mouth and kisses it. A stark contrast to how he was sucking on my tits just a second ago, but not unwelcome. He kisses my wrist now, then my forearm, then my bicep, then my shoulder.
Then he switches his attention to my neck again, bruising and marking me, coaxing soft moans from me. There would be no way to cover up those spots, although I'm not sure I'd want to or if he would let me.
He continues his trail of kisses downwards again, this time dragging my undergarment down with him. He stopped for a moment to look at me again.
"Off." he gestures towards my undergarment. I obey and quickly slip off the feeble piece of fabric, discarding it on the floor next to his bed. Once I face him again, completely bare now, he looks at me with approval.
"Good girl." he whispers under his breath, but I heard. I smile at his words of praise as he looks me up and down hungrily. He leans down and, while maintaining eye contact, licked a stripe up my body from my hips to my chest.
I breathe out a moan at this scandalous action. He flashes me a cunning smile before biting my nipple gently, coaxing a surprised gasp from me. He continues biting and suckling on my skin, moving down... Down... Down. Until he reaches my thighs.
He wraps his hands around my knees and spread them apart as far as they'll go, slowly and teasingly he leans down again. He starts kissing my thigh, occasionally softly biting down to coax an unexpected whimper from me.
He finally inches closer to where I need him the most. He looks at my pussy with hunger in his eyes, licking his lips and looking up at me. He softly blows on it, making me moan from the sensation. I grab ahold of his locks again, hoping to be able to push him down and just make him have me already, but he doesn't let me.
"Impatient now, are we? I can certainly tell with how wet you are. Is this all for me, pet?" he asks me as his hands caress my thighs. I don't know how to answer him, so I just whine and buck my hips towards him, hoping that he gets the message.
He chuckles at my desperate attempts at seeking his tongue. "Please..." I beg, feeling nothing but longing for the god in between my legs in this moment. He sighs before demanding; "please what?"
"Please just take me already, Loki." I answer him in an annoyed tone, but before I can release a huff of annoyance, he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit. I moan languidly at the unexpected move.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asks teasingly.
"Yes, Gods, yes." I sigh, throwing my head back.
He chuckles at my pathetic tone and starts lapping up the arousal that had been gathering all evening. He moans at the taste, reveling in it as he flicks his tongue over my clit.
His movements have me keening and bucking my hips as he fucks his tongue into me. People said he had a cunning tongue to him(although probably not in this context) and they were right. Gods, does he know how to eat a woman out.
His tongue laps at me at just the right pace, fucking in and out of my cunt, softly suckling on my clit. He brought his hand up to cup my tit as he did so, overwhelming my senses and making me grab onto his hair. This coaxed another moan out of him, sending vibrations throughout my body.
I can feel the coil in my stomach beginning to tighten. I'm close and he knows it, because he suddenly changes his original pace to a slower one, making me whine.
"Loki.... Don't be mean." I tell him.
He stops his movements altogether now, looking up at me with a cocky grin. "What's the matter, princess?" he feigns pity.
"You know exactly what, i was close." I huff, sexual frustration coaxing through my whole body.
He laughs at my attitude. "You don't get to decided when you cum, pet. I do. You are under my command now and what I say goes." he answers in a dark, possessive tone of voice.
His words make my stomach flip and my pussy clench around nothing. He's so attractive, I can't help it. He knows it, noting my reaction to his words. He lifts his head from between my thighs and climbs back on top of me, his face right in front of mine. I can't help but admire him, especially from this angle. His hair framing his face, his eyes piercing my own, his lips... In that sadistic smile.
"What? Do you like it when i control you? Do you want to be my toy, hm?" he whispers, looking me right in the eyes, never letting go of my gaze. He catches the widening of my pupils, the quickening pace of my breath, the desperation in my eyes. No, he doesn't need to read my mind to know how i feel.
He leans down, brushing his lips over mine. I try to catch his lips with mine, but he doesn't let me. He's teasing me again. I whine as he laughs at me.
He laughs at me. How dare he, when i want him so bad and I know he wants me too. How dare he, when he knows how desperate I am for his touch. How dare he, when I'm lying naked underneath him and he is denying me what I want.
"What is it? Annoyed? What do you want, princess?" he asked me tauntingly.
I lift up my hand to caress him. I let my hand slide higher up the back of his neck, having my fingers intertwine with his locks and pulling him down by them until my lips are right next to his ear. He lets me.
I lick at his earlobe experimentally and a soft moan comes from the God's lips that I enjoyed a little too much. I took his earlobe in my mouth and sucked on it a few times, making Loki melt on top of me.
I stop only to whisper in his ear; "I want you to fuck me." his entire demeanor changes as he looks me in the eyes. I'm suddenly hyper aware of my naked body and his hard length pushing against my thigh through his pants. The thought of him fucking me with it makes a pleasurable shiver run up my spine.
He flashes me a cunning smile and gets off the bed, leaving me cold and naked. His gaze scans over me while he takes off his lounge pants. My eyes land on his now bare cock, the sight making my mouth water and my pussy clench.
Gods, it looks delicious. I wouldn't mind having a taste of it. It's long yet still girthy and I'm suddenly nervous about the sheer size of it. He looks at me knowingly before finally getting on the bed again and on top of me. He settles in between my legs to admire me again.
"Turn around, pet." he commands. I do as he says and turn around, keeping myself upright with my knees and having my arms stretched out in front of me. He lets his hand travel the flesh of my thighs, the curve of my ass, the dip of my waist.
I can hear the sheets ruffling and I'm about to look behind me to see what he was doing, before I feel his tongue on my cunt again. I moan at the unexpected feeling. He laps at my pussy for a bit, drinking my arousal like it's his favorite beverage. He lets go of my waist and I feel his finger spreading my lips apart.
"So wet all for me. Look at that, pet. You're throbbing." fuck, and I can feel it as he uses his finger to spread my arousal through my pussy lips. The friction has me bucking my hips when i suddenly feel his finger probing at my entrance.
He pushes his slender finger inside of me, making me moan out his name. He curls his finger, making it hit that spongy spot inside of me. Gods, he's making me go feral. He pulls out his finger now, but before I can whine at the loss, he enters two fingers inside me.
He pumps his fingers in and out for a bit, but then switches to scissoring them inside my cunt, making me almost squeal in pleasure. He begins to lick at my clit again. The feeling of him sucking at the sensitive bud and scissoring his finger inside of me has me keening and the coil in my stomach quickly tightening.
My pussy clamps down on his fingers and he knows I'm about to cum. He suddenly stops all his movements, keeping his fingers inside my cunt, making me whine and mewl at my failed orgasm.
"Stop your whining. Didn't I tell you? I decide when you cum and I won't let you cum unless it's on my cock, do you understand?" I whine at his words, my mind being too far gone to string together coherent sentences to answer him.
"So pathetic for me. Look at you, lying there with your ass up just for me. And you like it, don't you?" I whine in response. "Of course you do, you're mine now. I'll do anything I want to you and you'll let me." he proves his point by spreading apart my ass cheeks and licking a stripe from my clit to my ass. I moan at the sensation.
"Do you want me to fuck you? Hm? Do you want me to make you mine?" he splays his hand down on my scalp, scratching it with his fingernails before tightly grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me up against his chest.
"Yes! Yes, please, make me yours. Please, Loki." I beg pathetically, but I don't care. I want him to fuck me already and I'll say anything to make it so.
He harshly throws me down on the bed again, shoving my face into the pillow in the process. I yelp at the unexpected action. Loki's hand travels now from out of my hair, over my back, my waist, to my ass. His other hand pumps up and down his dick slowly.
He starts to tease me with the tip of his cock, guiding it through my folds and spreading my arousal and his precum. I moan at the feeling, bucking my hips because why is he not railing me yet?
He stops his movements, his cock stilling right where my entrance is. I'm about to ask him why he stopped when i feel the tip of his dick entering me. I let out a near pornographic moan. Fuck, is he gooood.
The stretch feels so good after all his teasing, but he's not pushing any more of his cock in. Instead, leaving just the tip and staying where he is. I whine when i realize this and he knows exactly why.
"What is it? You want more, pet? Don't be greedy, take what I give you." he says, with a degrading tone to his voice that makes my cunt squeeze down on him. He cursed at this notion, but stayed as he is. I try to buck my hips to get more of him, but his strong hands are keeping me in place.
"Please, come on, I've been good. Pleaseeee." I beg him. "Please, Loki, i-" before I can finish my sentence he thrusts his whole length into me in one swift movement, making me choke on a sob from the pain and pleasure.
He doesn't still to let me adjust. Instead, he sets a rough pace. Fucking in and out of me fast and deep. So fucking deep, I can feel him in my stomach. I'm sure that if I had the physical strength to reach, I would be able to feel a bulge in my stomach from his cock.
My curses are high pitched and incoherent as the snap of his hips continues. "That what you wanted? Did you want to be fucked like this, hm?" I sob at his words, too overwhelmed to say anything.
"Is it too much, pet? But you were just begging me to take you, begging me to make you mine."
"T-too much-" I manage to stutter out in between his thrusts.
"Shut up, you can take it." he says in a mean tone of voice that send a shiver down my spine. "You asked for it. This is what greedy whores get." my pussy squeezes him like a vice at the degrading name he called me. Fuck, did that turn me on.
"Oh, you like being called that, hm? You like being treated like a dumb bitch." he says, grabbing a handful of my hair again and lifting up my head. "Don't you?" he asks me, emphasizing his words with a deep thrust. I answer with a guttural moan. He seems content with that answer, though. A sadistic smile claiming his lips.
"Turn over." he says all of a sudden, pulling his cock out of me and I whine at the empty feeling before obeying his order and lying down on my back now.
He leans down again and catches my lips in an aggressive kiss. He licks at my bottom lip, into my mouth. He thrusts back inside of me fully, catching me off guard. He swallows the moan it coaxes out of me and starts thrusting at the same unforgiving pace.
I close my eyes, too far gone to keep them open from the pleasure. His hand snaked towards my neck and chokes me, making my eyes shoot wide open and my hand clamp on to his.
"There we go." he says with a smile. "Keep your eyes on me, pet." so I do. I try with all my might to keep my eyes on him. Gods, the choking isn't helping. My senses are all overwhelmed, completely focused on the feeling of his cock spearing into me.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
I hear him curse under his breath when i feel the coil in my stomach tightening for the third time this evening, making my pussy clamp down on him again.
"Fuck, so tight for me. You feel so good." he brings his free hand to my clit, rubbing calculated circles onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"I wanna cum inside you. Let me?" it sounds more like a demand than a question, but I shakily nod my head anyway.
The coil in my stomach gets tighter by the second. The snapping of his hips, the squeezing of his hand on my throat, the circling of his thumb on my clit. All of it.
Tightening... Tightening....
"Cum for me, princess." he tells me.
The coil snaps and the best orgasm of my life rips through my body. My pussy clamps down on him like a vice, my eyes roll to the back of my head, my jaw falls slack. He fucks me through my high and I can hear him cursing at how tight I am.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum inside you." he curses, his pace growing sloppy as he's nearing his high. He keeps fucking up into me, making me cry out from overstimulation.
A string of curse words falls from his lips as I feel his hot cum painting my walls. He rides out his high, letting his body relax on top of me. He embraces me gently, a stark contrast to how he was fucking me just a second ago. His hips cease their rocking motion.
We lie there for a bit like that; Him carefully holding me, his cock growing soft inside of me. Our sweaty bodies unwinding and relaxing against each other. I come to after a bit, finally snapping out of my brainless daze.
"So you really thought that I was fucking your brother?" I ask him.
"Yes, I did." he sighs. I chuckle at his tired response.
"So what was your first thought when you read my mind and figured out I most certainly was not?"
"Surprise at the disgusting thoughts that courses through your head about me, mainly." he says tauntingly. "But also relief."
"Awhh how sweet." I coax.
"You know, I was right." he says in a cocky tone.
"About what?"
"That dress doesn't do you justice and I was exactly right about what does." he answers. I chuckle at his words.
"You know what I was also right about?"
"No, what's that, Prince?" I ask teasingly.
"You let me show you exactly what did do you justice, princess."
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ms--lobotomy · 7 months
Text
I know I have a lot of asks, but I’m cooking up something large-ish. Have this in the meantime. 🥰
———
Summary: pert gets jealous LMAO
Word Count: 1122
Content Warnings: NSFW, toxic as hell relationship, breeding kink
———
The dining hall was beautiful today. The tables were decorated with stark white tablecloths and arrangements of flowers, and banners bearing the insignia of the Iron Warriors hung from the walls. This was your first time in the Imperial Palace, and it did not disappoint. Many of Perturabo’s brothers were attending the event, and you’d sheepishly waved to a few of them before staring back down at your shoes.
You were clad in a silver dress, something far more showy than you were used to. It was a sparkly thing, a shorter dress with a high neck. You weren’t used to such things, but Perturabo had told you himself that he wanted you to wear it. It was perfectly tailored to your proportions, and it fit comfortably. You felt eyes gravitate towards you, and you wished you had your lover’s hand to hold.
“You must be the lady of the Iron Warriors,” you heard a voice from the side of you remark. You turned your head, and saw the Warmaster himself, Horus. You took a step back, and he chuckled. “It’s interesting that he chose someone so…” he trailed off, gazing to the side before landing on the right word. “Slight.”
“What do you mean by that?” you asked. You had to tilt your head up to look at him, but you couldn’t make eye contact.
“I’m afraid I may offend if I elaborate,” he replied. “How is it, dating him? I’m surprised that he’s one of the first of us to end up with a partner.” He took a sip from his glass, which contained an amber liquid.
“It’s lovely,” you said. “Sometimes he’s got his… quirks, but at the end of the day we make each other better.”
Horus nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that about him,” he said. “Good for you.” He took another swig from his glass and made a face before turning you around and putting an arm around you. “I wish nothing but the best for the lady of the Iron Warriors!”
You looked around, a shiver going down your spine. People were going to see you like this when you’d just made your relationship with Perturabo public. You tried to pull yourself away, but he wrapped his arm around you even tighter. Your eyes darted around before you saw Perturabo himself, meandering the function before he noticed you and made a beeline for you.
“Perturabo—“ you exclaimed, a strained smile on your face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Perturabo asked. Even he had to crane his neck up a little to look at Horus.
Horus’s grip on you relaxed, and you went straight for Perturabo’s side. “I’m just making friends with the lady of the Iron Warriors,” he said.
“You’ve made enough friends for today,” Perturabo said with a glare. “Leave her alone.”
“If you say so,” said Horus, turning around and walking away.
Perturabo knelt down to whisper in your ear. “Why don’t we go back to my chambers,” he hissed. “That way we won’t have any… unwanted guests.”
Before you could respond, Perturabo stood up and grabbed your wrist. It threatened to leave a bruise with how tight he gripped it. He led you out of the dining hall, through his wing of the Imperial Palace and into his chambers.
He led you to his bed and sat you down. “What are you doing?” you asked as he loomed over you, pinning you to the bed.
“I don’t want anyone to touch you like that,” he said, planting a kiss to your lips. He parted your lips with his tongue as your hand trailed up to his chest, your face warm before he released you. “Nobody gets to do that but me.” He fumbled with the zipper on your dress. You looked down and to the side, and he grabbed your jaw and tilted your head to face him with his free hand.
“I want you to look at me,” he ordered. “Keep your eyes open and look at me.” He pulled your dress over your head, you looking up at him for as long as you could. He unhooked your bra and cast it aside before pinning you down once more.
“Can you tell me who you are?” he asked before leaning down to bite your nipple.
You suppressed a noise, your face scrunching up. “The lady of the Iron Warriors,” you managed to choke out as he grazed his teeth across you.
He trailed his mouth lower. “That’s not good enough,” he said, his hands roaming to your side. “You’re going to be the legion mother as soon as I’m done with you.”
You felt your face go warm again. Motherhood wasn’t something you’d discussed outright, but he’d hinted at it a few times. “I’m going to be the legion mother,” you repeated as he pulled down your underwear. The words felt foreign on your tongue, unrehearsed. You could see the corners of Perturabo’s mouth quirk up just after he peppered kisses between your legs.
“Good girl,” he said, standing up. You felt so small and naked in that massive bed. What was that word that Horus had used? Slight. Maybe it was more fitting than you had wanted it to be.
Perturabo returned, his oiled cock hanging out of his leather trousers. He pressed you down to the bed again, planting a kiss onto your neck as he rubbed himself between your legs. You ran your fingers through the wires that protruded from his head as he slowly began to enter you, stretching you out over him. You whimpered, and your whimpers turned into moans as he slid further inside you.
“Let it out,” he said, looking up at you. It was all you could do to keep your eyes open as your face scrunched up.
“P… Perturabo,” you managed to choke out as he buried himself as far as he could.
“What was that?” he asked, his head moving up as he began to thrust.
“Perturabo…” you moaned, limp underneath him. “Perturabo, please…”
“Please what?” he asked.
Your voice was barely audible. “Please make me legion mother,” you whimpered.
“Gladly,” he said, his thrusts getting more intense. Your hands trailed to the sides of his face as he stared down at you, spread out before him.
He only got rougher with you as time went on. You’d said his name so many times now that anyone would have lost count. But there came a point where he buried himself in you one final time, and you felt a sticky fluid run down your leg.
“Legion mother,” he said gruffly, burying his face in your neck.
“Legion mother,” you repeated, resting your head on his.
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sokkastyles · 5 months
Text
Zutara Month Day 11: "Mom and Dad are Fighting Again"
CW in the tags, and Ozai being Ozai, although just a brief mention.
They'd been arguing about some stupid thing. The color of the curtains in what used to be known as the war room. Zuko's advisors had flooded him with samples of various shades of crimson fabric, while Aang had taken it upon himself to list various new functions for what he had dubbed the "peace" room (just doesn't have the same ring to it, Sokka had muttered), when Toph had leaned over and put her hand in front of her mouth in a dramatic imitation of a whisper while she spoke in a sing-song manner in Suki's ear, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
"Mom and Dad are fighting again!"
"Toph!" Katara whirled around. "This is serious. If Zuko wants to rebrand himself as the people's firelord," she glared across the room at him as she spoke, "he can't have curtains the color of blood! A softer apple blush would look lovely here, with a bit of cream and gold, unless someone doesn't think it's manly enough of course..." she trailed off, clearly anticipating his biting comeback.
"Wow, you really are ready to move in with him, aren't you?" Toph said. "I was only joking, but man..."
Katara sputtered at that, then found her voice. "Toph! Zuko!"
Zuko didn't hear her. He stood, hearing the echo of Toph's words, spoken years ago by a much younger girl as she'd grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the open palace window adjacent to the garden where he and his sister had been playing.
"Come on," Azula had said, insistent, tugging on his sleeve, as Zuko let himself be pulled along. He always did. "Come see," she said, and her grin made him feel something open up in the pit of his stomach as his feet followed her. "Mom and dad are fighting again."
Zuko found himself halfway down an empty, sunlit corridor before he realized it, his stiff and pointed firelord shoes echoing on the marble floor. Stumbling, he reached for a latch, pushing open a floor-length window and stepping out into the garden, overgrown now, but still the same place where he and his sister had played as children.
He didn't know how long he had been there before he heard Katara behind him.
"It's beautiful out here," she said, her voice soft with reverence.
"It's not what it used to be," he said, without looking at her. It was true. They had more to do to make things look presentable than just the curtains. His father hadn't cared much for beautiful things, after Lady Ursa had left.
"Are you okay?" she asked gently, and he could feel her behind him. "Look, I'm sorry about the stupid curtains."
"You never have to apologize to me." He wanted to turn around, to reach out to her, to hold her. But he just...didn't know how to. All he could think about was his sister pulling him towards that open window.
Finally he spoke, kneeling to examine a single yellow lily that had somehow grown out of a bed of weeds, the only spot of sunshine in a sea of red. So much damned red. Katara was right, it was reminiscent of nothing short of blood, and they'd had more than enough of that, hadn't they?
"My dad," he said. "Hurt my mom. He didn't...hit her or anything. And I was too young to know, really. But he hurt her."
"Zuko, I'm so sorry," she said, nearly whispering, as if they might break some sort of fragile silence between them.
And here she was, apologizing again, for something he had done. "I just...don't want that to be us," he said, finally, turning to look at her.
"Us?" She eyed him quizzically.
Zuko looked down again, afraid that he had misread things. Of course he wasn't as bad as Toph, he didn't think Katara actually wanted to move in with him, but he had thought... "Unless there's not...an us?" He studied her expression, waiting for her to laugh, or get angry again, but she didn't.
Instead, she reached for his hand. "I'd like there to be an us," she said quietly.
"Me too," he said, entwining his fingers with her cool ones, and when he looked up at her, he saw warmth in her eyes.
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cloudyswritings · 9 months
Text
Yes… I am the silksong now!!
My thoughts and headcanons on Hornet. I’ll be real I’ve kinda been ignoring her because I’m terrified of having to tag silksong headcanons, I’ve seen the fucking Reddit. Anyway, enjoy my ramblings.
So I think that a Hornet qualifies as a pale being, she was born to one and has a pale mask of one. More than that she qualifies for being in godhome(a low bar ik, looking at you vengefly king).
She isn’t really a god per-se but definitely is a higher being on par or stronger than the great knights.
She obviously considers herself a spider but overall she inherited very little from Herrah.
Id say she only really got the fangs and dietary needs
Shes absolutely an obligate carnivore, so don’t expect her to be eating plant matter of any type. She does the whole inject her meal with venom to dissolve it and slurp it up deal
this is mostly because even though she’s got the full Wyrms arsenal of teeth and a Wyrms digestive tract her mouth is very small and she only has pedipalps and fangs externally. This means it’s very hard for her to eat any solid food/get it down to where her throat teeth can break it down
So interestingly her body color in combination with the vessels may actually tell us more about the pale kings- see both she and the vessels have black chitin suggesting it may be inherited from the king.
She also has both her fathers number of eyes and limbs, something that infuriates her deeply.
I don’t feel that the hornet we see in canon is her final molt, mostly because it seems like the sealing of THK functionally stopped time in Hallownest. I imagine once they’re free and the Radiance is dead she’ll probably undergo one last molt.
I think her missing limbs(she has 4 that we know of meaning she’d have 4 more as a spider) will actually end up growing into wings with said molt.
She also inherited her aptitude for mechanical stuff from the king. It seems like she makes all of her own stuff. Plus the crafting system and buzz saws in silksong support this.
She likes buzzsaws
I imagine if we could get a better look at the light she casts it’d be a lot like her fathers. She’d be a pale red light that falls far and deep but bears only a subtle influence on the world, like the strumming of gossamer threads.
Shes set down threads all over Hallownest, allowing her to keep track of a ton of things at once by feeling vibrations
She does have spineretes but uses soul to supplement and extend the amount of thread she can make.
She actually really likes the white lady, mostly because of good childhood memories from visiting the palace. She was the cool mom for a while. She’s more conflicted in regards to her towards the events of the game though.
Her favorite food is probably primal aspids, but she’s got a huge soft spot for honey because of her time in the hive. She also likes soups because they’re easier for her to eat(esp the ones Ghost makes)
She has very good eyesight from Herrah, but also has face blindness that she inherited from the king. She makes do, but mostly relies on clothing, scent, and body language to identify people.
As a grub she was the only one of her brood to survive, she was part of a large brood and likely spent her earliest days in a broodsack(that’s just how spiders do shit) but ate all of her potential siblings before hatching-she doesn’t know it but this is a wyrm instinct and her father did exactly the same thing.
She’d absolutely hate that if she found out.
She suspects but isn’t sure about why she’s territorial. Unsurprisingly it’s once again a wyrm thing
Her threads are far stronger and more durable than even those produced by the best weavers, in fact some of her silk may have been used for THKs seals- she probably doesn’t remember this cause she was too young.
Is mad she inherited the kings height. Honestly she’s mad about everything she inherited from him.
She doesn’t know it but she’s fairly resistant to void, especially for someone half mortal.
Sleeps in a giant mess of quilts, pilows, and silk. It’s held slightly off the ground. This is sorta a halfway point between a Wyrms nest and the silk hammocks of the weavers.
Shes a very fidgety and light sleeper, and realistically needs far less sleep than most beings.
Her venom is ridiculously potent, like to the point of being almost unanimously fatal to mortals and weaker higher beings. It would honestly still do a lot of damage to gods too. It’s a symptom of hybrid vigor, wherein the hybrid offspring of two species tends to be stronger, larger, and overall more genetically resilient than either parent.
Hybrids also tend to be sterile.
Hornet probably couldn’t have children if she wasn’t a higher being, even then I’m not really sure she could tbh.
Given enough time and soul she could pull a metamorphosis like her father did, though she doesn’t know how.
What she’d emerge as is unclear, but she’d likely either become a spider goddess in truth. Or even more likely she’d fully become a wyrm and abandon the mortal parts Herrah gave her.
For obvious reasons she won’t do this.
Her favorite color is a toss up between red and purple.
She weaves clothing for her siblings semi-regularly. Kinda gets frustrated at how often Ghost ruins their thought. They’re rough on clothing ig.
She didn’t inherit her fathers ability to burrow, but some of the instincts remain. She’s very frustrated at this.
She’s kinda bad at rembering names too, she gets embarrassed by this and it’s part of why she doesn’t stay anywhere long enough to get to know the bugs there.
Has a charm that was created from Herrahs regrets. It doesn’t do anything but give off the faint sense of a clawed hand on her shoulders and the faint whispers of the lullaby Herrah used to sing to her.
it’s still her single most prized possession
Her needles is a close second and was made of pale ore taken directly from the Pale Wyrms corpse. It’s the one thing her father gave her she loves.
he gave it to her as a gift for her being given a name. He likely used his foresight to figure out how large she’d be as an adult and made it in anticipation of that.
She can go an exceedingly long time without a meal. This was super helpful during the infection when uninflected prey was rare at best.
With age she is becoming more and more powerful as a higher being and will likely eventually become a goddess proper.
She has the lifespan of a Wyrm but doesn’t really know it yet and chalks her remarkable age up to the blurring of time during the infection. Despite this she’s still a child by wyrm standards and has many, many, many years left to live.
Most bugs are absolutely shocked to hear about her actual age.
Lace will be for sure, and she’ll probably live to regret threatening her.
Shes super fast, like almost impossible to track I’m combat at times, this is actually because of her use of both wind and soul magic along with the thread based spells of the weavers.
Her shell is covered with intricate and detailed carvings, this is essentially the weaver version of tattoos.
Im genuinely not too sure if her mask is actually her face like it is for the pale king or just a mask like for Herrah. I lean towards it being her face though.
The bell cult caught her while she was sleeping and that’s the only reseal they survived the encounter.
id say there’s probably a good chance of her ascending to godhood as a possible ending to silksong.
Doesnt really have a sense of humor but does find puns and dad jokes hilarious(they were the only jokes the pale king told when she was little)
Theorectically given enough prep time and motivation she could place webs all over the city of tears(or a similarly sized city) and pull all of the buildings down in one go.
She might also be able to do the whole puppeting corpses thing that happens in the beasts den.
She needs a certain amount of metal in her diet thanks to being part wyrm. It’s really hard for her to find in pieces small enough to fit into her mouth.
Some crack/non-serious headcanons
She’s absolutely a chain smoker on par with Grimm- you know why
When she says Shaw it’s because as a kid she couldn’t say saw, the king would be so damn proud.
She’d be so good at putting up Christmas lights. Like the best even.
secretly loves holidays, could pull of a mean Santa impression by just fucking hustling down peoples chimneys and stealing their cookies. She’d even have a big ass silk bag full of toys.
Maybe she does this for Hallownest once it’s built?
that’s it’s, this is how she ascends to godhood
Hornet is bug Santa.
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kuroneko1815 · 9 months
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Imperial Domesticity: Mistletoe Kisses
Siyeon staved off the holiday loneliness by watching movies to drown out the sounds of her family’s parties. She grew enthralled with the thought of a kiss under the mistletoe. Years later, as Penelope, she finally has someone to share those kisses with.
It started off years ago, on their very first winter together. The ground was frozen and far too cold to do excavations so Penelope spent that winter and every winter since, in the palace with Callisto. Something that thrilled him. Three months where Penelope was there when he woke, her magenta hair strewn across his chest, face, arms, pillows, everything.
Three months where Penelope took every meal with him, appeared on his arm in functions and danced every song during the balls and within their room. It was blissful heaven for the young emperor. And then there were the strolls along the garden paths.
It was innocuous and insignificant at first, Penelope walking arm in arm with Callisto along the snowy paths of the winter garden when she saw something growing on the trees that she was certain wasn’t part of it and certainly something she had seen before.
“Ahh, the mistletoes.” Callisto said when he followed her gaze. “The gardeners hate it, and so did my mother.” He said.
Mistletoe. How often did she watch those western shows while she spent her winter breaks locked in her room, away from the eyes of her family and their guests for Christmas? How often did she pause and sigh and dream quietly as she watched the Christmas kiss take place under the mistletoe?
Cheekily, she stared at her fiancé and when they passed underneath, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in to a kiss. He deepened it after a moment or two of surprise before she pulled away and dragged him along.
But there were more trees and more kisses given along the way. And every day throughout the winter season, and the next three after that, she would kiss him. He came to expect it.
On the fifth year, when she was pregnant with their first child, the mistletoes had been removed and she stopped kissing him. It took him by surprise, she knew, when they passed by those trees and he went unkissed.
It went on for a few days, until they stumbled upon another tree with mistletoe. She pulled him into a kiss out of habit. There was something puzzled in her husband’s face as they continued to walk.
Three days later and he finally asked her.
“So, why do you kiss me under some trees and not others?” He asked.
Penelope paused and smiled. “I did wonder if you’d ever ask about that. But it’s just something from the other world. There’s a holiday in the winter where people gather together and exchange gifts.”
“Just like you’ve been giving gifts to all the servants and soldiers in the palace.” He pointed out. “And to me too.”
“Yes, but I… I never celebrated it.” She admitted. “Mother and I were too poor, and when I went to live with my father and half brothers, I wasn’t wanted around and I was the child of a scandal so I wasn’t supposed to show my face during their parties. I would drown out the sound of their celebrations by watching all of these shows from the other continents and countries and one of the things was about kissing under the mistletoe.”
“Hmm, so it was the mistletoe you sought. I know they finally eradicated the mistletoes in those older trees.” He said, thoughtfully. (She didn’t know that the Emperor put a ban on the destruction of mistletoes within the imperial residences.)
“Exactly!” She plucked a mistletoe sprig from the tree and held it up their heads and leaned in to kiss him. “See!” And then she pocketed the sprig and pulled him away.
-
-
Penelope walked through the palace halls and suddenly found herself in a hallway filled with mistletoe. She turned to her husband in surprised confusion. “What is this?” She asked simply as she laughed.
“Well, this way, you’ll have to kiss me.” Callisto said happily.
Penelope let herself be pulled into a kiss, a few actually, as they walked through the long hall. When they made it to the other side she smiled at him. “You do realize that you don’t merely kiss me do you? You have to kiss whoever you walk with, such as Cedric Porter.”
He turned green and shuddered. “I’ll take this all down immediately.”
-
-
Of course, there was one place he could get away with it.
Their bedroom’s ceiling was made in to resemble trees only mistletoes were used. The fire warmed the room, and soft, fluffy carpets were laid down around it to ensure their feet stayed warm.
Even over their bed, the canopy was filled with mistletoes. He used that to his advantage to kiss her as much as he could, wherever he could, and whenever he could within their room.
Her husband even kept it on his person to give the excuse of kissing her out in the open.
-
-
Judith grew up with mistletoe as a tradition of her family, as well as gift giving. She hadn’t known that it hadn’t been until her mother and father married that such things came to be. She knew that mistletoe kisses were supposed to be given when the snows fell and you saw them. And only, absolutely only, to the people you loved like her family.
But Judith didn’t know how it was applied.
Penelope smiled as her daughter came flying in to her room screaming “miss toe kissies!” Her nannies were all running behind her and stopped when she got to Penelope’s arms. Penelope waved them away as she laughed while her three year old daughter rained kisses on her face. And then on her father’s a few moments later.
Yes, her baby always thought that when you saw a mistletoe in winter, rather than kiss the person you were with, you would run to find your loved ones and give them kisses.
Merry Christmas everyone! This is a short one because I wrote it in under an hour and wanted to get it out for Christmas. Anyway, I firmly believe that Penelope would have brought in some traditions from the other world, mistletoe being one and gifting being another. I also believe that Callisto would misuse it to his advantage, and that little Judy will be a bit confused. So her mama, papa, grandpa, and uncles all get mistletoe kisses far away from any mistletoes. Anyway, that's it, let me know what you all think. Stay healthy and safe!
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arealphrooblem · 2 years
Text
Terms Of Surrender Part 3
synopsis: The queen of a doomed city makes the deal her husband refused to make with the conquering warlord outside her city's gates.
Find part one and two on my pinned story masterpost -- Tumblr isn't letting me copy/paste links rn
It was a surprisingly easy sell to her people. They had been without hope for weeks as her husband stubbornly decimated his own forces to cling to his throne. Caravans streamed out of the city for two days, but many people stayed, too rooted in their lives, living in houses that had been passed down for too many generations to leave now.
The army — what little remained — had great reluctance in giving up their weapons, but the warlord’s general ensured every sharp object down to a penknife was confiscated before allowing the warriors to leave or face imprisonment.
And in two days time he strolled into her throne room, unharrassed and unhurried. His sword unbloodied at his side. She waited for him on her throne, savoring the last few minutes she had left upon it.
Despite his terms of surrender, she still half expected him to pull out his sword and run her through, hold out her head to the crowds outside. He had a fearsome reputation on the battlefield, one so terrifying that her husband had preferred to take his own life than lose it to the warlord.
He stopped just before her and reached out a hand.
“My lady,” he said, with a small bow.
It felt like a false sense of security, like walking over a rug you knew covered over a sharp spiked pit. But what choice did she have?
"My lord,” she said, for it was true now. She took his hand and allowed him to gently guide her up and off her throne — the first and last day it was ever hers.
He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I must lock you away.”
Fear twisted in her stomach — she knew what happened in dungeons, how many people went in and never out again -- but she kept her face impassive. This was the price of her people’s well-being, the price her husband could not pay.
 “I expected no less.”
He escorted her down the plush carpet steps, hand lightly resting on the small of her back. A knot of soldiers awaited her. Her stomach flipped and then sunk like a stone. She clenched her trembling hands.
“But first, if you would be so kind as to show me your rooms.”
Of course — her rooms connected with her husband’s and the warlord would obviously want to see his new living quarters. It must satisfy some power play to make her do it, rather than a servant. No matter. She could never erase the memory of her own mother from those rooms and feel entirely at home there.
The soldiers followed the two of them as she led them through the labyrinthine halls and up stairs to the Emperor's quarters. They occupied almost an entire floor of the palace. The Empress suite connected to her husbands through hidden doors and a hallway, from her bedroom to his. (The queen did not volunteer that information.)
They stepped inside her sitting room. The Warlord barked some kind of order in his native language and the four soldiers split off to search the rooms. The embroidery she had worked while her husband threw himself off the roof still lay on the floor of the sette, where she had dropped it. Though it had never felt as comforting as her childhood bedroom, the queen took one long, wistful look around.
“Will you be comfortable here?” asked the Warlord.
She turns to him. “What do you mean?”
“To stay as my prisoner — will this room satisfy your needs? You’ll be staying here for a long time, I’m afraid.”
“You want me to stay here? But I’m — you can’t do that!”
His eyebrows raise in amusement. “Oh? And where else shall I place you?”
“We do have a fully functional dungeon,” she told him, bewildered at herself. Why was she arguing this? But part of her felt more afraid at this deviation from protocol, from anything predictable, than standard imprisonment.
The warlord studied her outrage for a moment and then he stepped up close to her. His gaze had an intensity that almost burned and she couldn’t meet it.
“The dungeon is not for brave, sacrificial queens,” he said quietly. “The dungeon is for those who spit on my goodwill, who betray my trust. The dungeon is for those who want their last moments on this earth to be spent in the most horrific agony that hell would be a blessing.”
He tips her chin up so she has no choice but to meet his gaze. “Do you think you deserve the 
dungeon, my lady?”
“No,” she whispered.
“I don’t think so either. And I hope that it remains that way.”
He chucked her under the chin before stepping away and putting proper distance between them again.
“If you need something, you have at least four guards to reach out to,” he said, heading for the door. “Worry not, I will take good care of your people. Including you.”
Only a fool would believe him, but the Queen was feeling foolish.
Part 4
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usmsgutterson · 1 year
Text
Would That I- N.L x gn! reader
all right! This one was requested by @ell0ra-br3kk3r! I’m posting it a while after it was written just to try to get used to using the queue function a bit more frequently because while I have used it a lot lately I still feel like I might fuck up from time to time lol
otherwise, notes with this fic include that, while is a songfic, with the last part (it goes from chorus to verse and then to chorus to conclude the song) I didn’t follow the songs structure and just ended the fic off with the final verse because I was afraid of getting repetitive with the parts of the fic where the chorous is concerned
Fic type- this is mostly fluff
Warnings- mentions of heartbreak/jealousy
True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree - a willow dancing on air before covering me - under cotton and calicoes - over canopy dappled long ago - true that love in withdrawal was the weepin' of me - that the sound of the saw must be known by the tree - must be felled for to fight the cold - fretted fire but that was long ago
It was no secret to anyone in the palaces that you and Nikolai both had your own separate romantic pasts. Nikolai had himself a string of flings to speak of, and while yours was a bit more spaced out, you had experienced your fair share of romance, too.
But, as it usually did at one point or another, romance coupled up with heartbreak. Nikolai had experienced it but a few times in his life, and each time it had made his heart just a bit more steely, amped up his charm piece by piece until it was something through which nobody could break.
And you? heartbreak had not turned your heart into steel. If anything, it had made you cautious but still willing to wear your heart on your sleeve. You cared about people because it was your instinct, your first thought, what you would do for the rest of your life. You loved and you loved openly, not fearing heartbreak because in your view, you had certainly been through worse. 
Nikolai could say that such traits as your inexplicable ability to care for people were traits of yours that he certainly admired, perhaps had even begun to love, but there would always exist the part of him that did not view love as something to be joyous about any longer. 
After a point, after many-a-heartbreak, love became a risk. It became a risk that Nikolai was near unwilling to take, but that didn’t mean he didn’t contemplate it sometimes when he looked at you. 
Sometimes love didn’t end as it had always ended in his experience. Heartbreak did not always have to be the end result. The end result very well could’ve been marriage and a life so happy that Nikolai never experienced heartbreak of any sort ever again. 
But the risk was always there, so Nikolai walled up his heart and tried not to let you tear the walls down. 
It's not tonight (Oh, oh) - where I'm set alight (Oh, oh) - and I blink in sight (Oh, oh)- of your blinding light (Oh, oh) - oh, it's not tonight (Oh, oh) - where you hold me tight (Oh, oh) - and the fire bright (Oh, oh) - oh, let it blaze alright (Oh, oh) - oh, but you're good to me, oh, you're good to me (Oh, oh) - oh, but that you're good to me, baby (Oh, oh)
Somewhere, though Nikolai could not quite figure out where, the line between how much time he spent with you and without you began to blur. Somehow, piece by piece, you’d begun to take down the walls he’d built around his heart, and for some reason, he let you. 
Letting people in was harder than keeping them out, but after a drunken night of conversation and laughter, Nikolai found that he would trust you with his heart sooner than he would dare trust anyone else. 
It helped that you were good to him, if he were honest. It felt nothing like flings of past, nothing like all of the heartbreak he’d endured. The line between time spent with you and time spent without you had begun to blur to the point where Nikolai was entirely unsure as to whether or not he’d still be able to spot it, but he didn’t mind that at all. 
And as for you, you didn’t mind it either. Nikolai was the most understanding person you had ever met, the kindest, most compassionate and definitely the most charming by a mile and a half. The time you spent with him was time you always enjoyed, without fail. 
You’d experienced your fair share of heartbreak, just as Nikolai had, and somehow you knew without a doubt that he would not break your heart. He seemed like he was in it for the long game and you were perfectly fine with that--you’d fallen in love with him, and though marriage was not something you had discussed, if he ever proposed, you knew that you would say yes because saying yes would mean marrying the man you loved like you’d never loved anybody else. 
You were content with everything as it happened, as was Nikolai. At the end of the day, such a truth was the only one either of you cared about. 
with the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet - like the ashes of ash, I saw rise in the heat - settled soft and as pure as snow - I fell in love with the fire long ago - with each love I cut loose, I was never the same - watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame - I was fixed on your hand of gold - layin' waste to my lovin' long ago
“I don’t know how to explain it, really,” Nikolai said to Tolya as the two of them moved through the palace grounds. “I look at them, and well--it’s like--my heart sets itself on fire, really. I look at them and I feel like I’m standing in the middle of an open flame or like I’m in a heatwave.” 
“That’s love for you,” Tolya said with a grin. “Yeah, it does that. Makes you giddy, appreciative of everything, makes you feel like every bone in your body has been set alight. You’ve been in love before. I thought you knew this stuff.”
“Not as intensely,” Nikolai responded. “I’ve experienced love in it’s most mild of forms and thought it was the most intense emotion I had ever felt. I, very clearly, was wrong.” 
“I don’t know,” Tolya said with a shrug. “Maybe you’re experiencing it so intensely because of the fact that you refused to let them in for months and then just kind of decided to let them steal your heart on a random Tuesday, and here we are. Maybe you’re experiencing it so intensely because love and true love are two different things, or maybe it’s just because the universe has taken pity and decided that, after the war, you deserve something of a happy ending. I might love a good sonnet, but we have an objective here rather than to just aimlessly wander.” 
Nikolai grinned. “I do love it when you remind me of the task at hand, Tolya,” he said wistfully. Tolya only shook his head at Nikolais antics. “Thank you for reminding me, seriously. Had you not, I would’ve gotten lost in thinking about them and I think it might’ve driven me mad.” 
Tolya grinned. “Only the best loves drive one mad, Nikolai. Cherish it.” 
“Oh, I intend to,” Nikolai said, and the two of them kept moving, the conversation coming and going, Nikolais heart setting a racing pace whenever you dared cross his mind. 
So in awe, there I stood as you licked off the grain - though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame - as long as amber of ember glows - all the "would" that I'd loved is long ago
“Might I interest you in a dance, my love?” You asked with a grin as you and Nikolai stood, surveying an empty ballroom that you’d booked to use in an event with dancing, drinking, and donations that would go into the paying off of Ravkas debts. 
There was not a sound to be heard, not a soul in the room aside from Nikolai and yourself, and yet, somehow, it was perfect. 
“Always,” Nikolai said, offering you his hand. 
The dance was like one of the ones you’d do while a country song played on the violin, full of spinning and laughter and a general sense of joy that would not leave you, one that you never quite wanted to go.
“I love you,” you said to him, breathless, as you found yourself in the middle of the ballroom, Nikolais arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders. “I love you so much.” 
“Ditto,” Nikolai hummed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. You scoffed as Nikolai laughed, your hearts setting together in a beautiful ember of fire as you stood in the ballroom empty for all but yourselves.
Loving Nikolai was akin to loving a flame, one that burned relentless and bright and warm, and you wouldn’t’ve traded it for anything in the world. 
Loving you, Nikolai found, was like sitting in the middle of a flame and basking in the heat. He loved the feeling of loving you like he’d never loved anyone else. It was a gift to him, a blessing, though he’d never thought himself worthy of such a blessing from the saints or any blessing from them at all. 
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ronaldofandom · 2 years
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I got you!
RamBheem drabble. No warnings.
Ram gets Bheem ready for the party and teaches him how to dance :)
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Bheem knew the clothes were expensive. And were supposed to be stylish, rather classy. But they felt so foreign, so alien that he couldn’t stop pulling and tugging at them.
‘Anna - why are these pants so tight? And these strings too? I don’t have to pull something with my back using these, so what’s the point of it?’
Bheem fiddled with the suspenders over his shirt, trying to loosen them.
‘Bheem - if you want to go to the party and not stick out, you have to wear these. I don’t like them too much either but after a bit you will get used to it. Just stop pulling everything now - you will ruin the creases.’
Ram slapped Bheem’s hands away from the clothes. Bheem huffed, but obliged.
As Ram helped groom Bheem’s hair and beard, the befuddled man threw a barrage of questions at him.
‘Anna - what will do at the party though? We don’t know anyone there.’
Ram didn’t bother to correct him that he would know quite a few people there, especially some officers. It’s a different thing he would rather puke than spend an afternoon in their company.
‘Why do you need to know everyone? Just stay with her; that’s why you are going, right?’
Bheem gave a solemn ‘hmm,’ which Ram couldn’t grasp the full meaning of, so he wrote it off as nervousness.
‘Don’t worry, it will be fine. She seems like a nice person. And she seems fond of you.’
This time Bheem smiled, and Ram smiled back.
Bheem couldn’t deny that she was nice. He knew it in his heart the moment he laid eyes on her. She had no reason to save Jangu the way she did, other than kindness.
And well, she was pretty. So pretty. Bheem wasn’t blind to that. But he had no idea how to speak to her or handle himself around her. And how to breach the topic of going inside the palace.
He voiced part of his concerns out loud. Ram held his shoulders fondly.
‘Oh my sweet friend - you are so oblivious to your charm. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Anyone with a good heart can see the goodness in yours. And anyone with well-functioning eyes won’t be able to resist this handsome face and breathtaking smile.’
Bheem blushed wildly. Pushing at Ram’s chest in protest, accusing him of lying. They jostled weakly, all in jest.
‘Ok, some important things. There maybe some mean people there who may say some mean things. Ignore them, they are pathetic insects. Also, you may not like most of the food there but some things are nice. The desserts especially - I have a feeling you will love them. I have never seen you not drool over anything with sugar in it. Stay by my side when we get to the food section, I will tell you what all to try.’
Bheem’s mood became markedly better. He held on to Ram’s arm.
‘Can’t wait to try them all. AND I am not leaving your side Anna, not for a second. You stay with me at all times, please.’
Ram smiled at him fondly, with a hint of suggestion in it.
‘Well, I can’t stay with you at all times, right? It kind of defeats the purpose of why you are going.’
‘But why? The three of us can be together too. Promise me you won’t leave.’
Ram crossed two fingers behind his back before lying to his innocent friend.
‘Ok I promise. Happy now?’
Bheem beamed at him in response.
‘Now, the most important thing. There is going to be dancing there. Not our kind of dance but a foreign dance. Do you want to learn a few steps, just in case it comes to that?’
Bheem nodded approvingly, admiring how worldly-wise his cherished friend was.
Ram led Bheem to the centre of the room, to a small space on the floor not covered with books.
It felt a bit awkward but it needed to be done. So, Ram stood toe to toe with Bheem, taking the younger man by surprise. He kept Bheem’s hand on his own waist, taking him by even more surprise.
‘What kind of a dance is this, Anna?’
Bheem looked quizzically at Ram.
‘It is strange, yes. But that’s how it is. Now, hold my other hand to the side, like this.’
Bheem did as instructed, still a bit conscious of the position.
‘Good. Now - how close you stand to your partner depends on how….umm…close you are in real life. I would recommend you stand at least this much apart, and leave the rest to her.’
Bheem nodded, suddenly conscious for a different reason now. The blush around his ears was coming back.
Ram started moving his feet and Bheem followed effortlessly. Ram looked at him with pride - the man really was a natural.
Just the next second, Bheem stepped on Ram’s toe and Ram yelled for dear life.
‘Annaaaaaa - I am so so sorry. Damnit I am so clumsy. Sorry - did I hurt you bad?’
Ram chose not to state how he was feeling - as if a bull had stomped on his foot. But he smiled bravely.
‘It’s a tiny scrape, I am fine now. It was my fault actually - both of us were trying to lead so we collided. Plus, I am a little rusty. Don’t worry, she will be a better partner because she would be a pro at this. She will take care of you.’
Bheem was sufficiently reassured.
‘So, I wasn’t too bad then? I won’t make a fool of myself? I don’t want to embarrass myself, Anna. Or embarrass you, since I am dragging you along.’
‘Shush. Stop thinking such things. She will be so happy to see you all dressed up like this that she will forget about everything else. I bet she will come straight to you when she sees you, leaving behind all the other proficient partners.’
‘Oh Anna - you flatter me too much. Why are you so sweet to me? Why do you do all this for me?’
Because you are the best and the purest thing that has happened to me in years, said Ram inwardly.
‘Because you are my brother. And that’s what brothers do for each other, my dear.’
Bheem crushed him with a hug, but it felt like the gentlest of feathery blankets wrapped around him. 
‘Ok ok. We must hurry now. We are late - the party has already started. All the food is waiting for you. And most importantly, she would be waiting for you with bated breath.’
Bheem let go of him then. Ram took one last look at his friend, applying final touches to his hair.
‘Ready?’
Bheem nodded in excitement; he was looking forward to this now.
‘Ready, Anna. With you by my side, I can do anything. I know you won’t let any harm come to me.’
Ram pretended to smile, hiding how his throat choked at Bheem’s unfiltered display of trust and love. And the two men left for the party.
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That was written in one hour - coz the scene was stuck in my mind since morning. Hope you liked it :)
@irisesforyoureyes @rambheem-is-real @thewinchestergirl1208 @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @yehsahihai @budugu @maraudersbitchesassemble @justmeand-myinsight @rambheemisgoated @rosayounan @jrntrtitties @obsessedtoafault @rambheemlove @jjwolfesworld @alikokinav @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @bromance-minus-the-b @dumdaradumdaradum @lovingperfectionwonderland @annieginny @chaanv @ssabriel @milla984 @kaagazkefool @boochhaan @mesimpleone @filesbeorganized @ladydarkey @teddybat24 @stanleykubricks @burningsheepcrown @veteran-fanperson @ronika-writes-stuff @beingmes-blog @yonderghostshistories @nisreenart @chaidrivenwhore @bheemaxrama @carminavulcana @umbrulla @mizutaama @rosefulmadness @gifseafins @fangirlshrewt97 @astrafangs @voidsteffy @sada-siva-sanyaasi
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vyntilador · 2 years
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Enchanted
They always say that promises will eventually be broken, no matter how many times the other party swore. You knew the eventual pain will soon devour you and engulf you in a dark feeling of melancholy but, why must he, out of all people, betray you like this?
Genre: Angst ofc
Characters: Vyn, Marius
Fandom: Tears of Themis
No pronouns mentioned so its gn(i think.. This isnt proofread😭)
Royal AU‼️
T/W ¦ C/W: none?? (i forgot was cw stands for but slay anyway)
A/N: MIDWAY TRYNA WRITE VYNS I THOIGHT, WHY NOT MAKE IT A MISUNDERSTANDING??? SO HERE YALLS GO IMMA GO HAVE A FIELD DAY WITH THIS LDMAOOAAOAOOAAOA ALSO ROYAL AU????
I think i need to do vyn justice tbh
Also explenation at the very end of this post!!
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𝓥𝔂𝓷
Loving him was a sacrifice; a risk. Yet, like a moth to a flame, you were captivated by the shining light that he was and so was he or at least u think so. The gentle smile he puts on his face every time he catches sight of you, the way he purposefully brushes his hand against yours when you're walking side by side, how he looks at you lovingly as you tell him all the things that happend that day, was it all a hoax? A lie? He was more than capable of doing so since he had a great understanding of the human brain. He promised you then and again that he'll never fall for the cheap tricks of his father to let him go back, nor will he let your relationship turn for the worst but was it all a lie as well?
Your eyes remained fixated on the scene bestowed upon you; Vilheilm de Haspran, the heir of Svart, standing beside a woman with his arms around her waist. His eyes sparkled like how it did whenever he listened to your stories, his posture remained formal but it was still relaxed; he's never been like this to anyone from the royal family, nor has he been with other people except you. It was as if time stopped but in reality, you were just frozen in place while you tried to process what was happening and without you fullu functioning, you walked away from them, slow walking turning into jogging to running. The sounds of your shoes tapping echoed through the elegant halls as you desperately run away, closing your eyes to try and erase the memory of it when suddenly, your face hits a soft surface and you come to a halt as you slowly lean towards it, losing balance. You gasp and open your eyes quickly to look up at him as he smiles down at you; "I expected everything but to bump into an angel from the heavens itslef. Are you alright?"
Vyn route(this) —> Artem route(next) (not written yet)
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𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓾𝓼
He was an overly energetic prince that constantly caused trouble so you were fully aware that by being in a relationship with him, there would be many instances of misunderstandings and hindrances but this time, he's gone too far. Due to his good looks and the skill for managing a whole nation despite his young age, many ladies have always took a liking to him and that meant that there will be many women that'd invite him for an arrange marriage despite already being in a relationship. He'd usually decline everything, keeping you in his mind but this time, a particularly stubborn lady had come. She'd already come many times before, trying to have Marius' hand in marriage but seeing how he's unsuccessful, she's turned to the tactic of seduction. She came to balls that he hosted with revealing clothing, improper for a lady of her standing, yet she never cared. You and Marius sat and hung inside one of the private common rooms of the palace, his arm around your shoulders as you sat on a couch, staring at the stars outside when you excused yourself for a moment, smiling to yourself as you went to grab the present you prepared for him. You caught sight of a woman by the corner of your eye but you brushed it off and continued walking to your shared room, fairly far, with a spring to your step. Unknowingly for you, the woman you saw was Marius' stubborn admirer. She opens the door with you out of sight and she sighs and smiles for a moment, the moonlight, shades her figure instead of shining on her as if the stars and the moon above knew of her plan.
"Oh, were you waiting for me? Have you gone through a change of heart, your highness?" She speak speaks in a low voice, forcing her voice to sound 'attractive'. Marius whips his head around to see the persistent woman, he sighs and he spoke in an uninterested manner. "My lady, with all due respect, I wish for myself to stay calm and collected when speaking with a woman so please, just simply take 'no' as an answer." He stands up and turns to the woman, staying a safe distance away. "I'm afraid that's impossible." she slowly walks towards him. "You're simply restraining yourself because of that witch" Marius furrows his brows at the woman's words. "Have you no shame?! How dare you speak so unpleasantly of the prince's lover?" His voice rose slightly and he stared down at the woman that stood right in front of him. "You no longer have you restrain yourself, darling. That...lover of yours will soon be gone."
You however, were walking back to the room Marius was in with a small box in hand. A bright smile was etched on your face as you thought of how this jewelry will fit him perfectly. You reached out to turn the door knob when suddenly, a hand rest on your waist, gently pushing you out the way as an arrow passes by you, leaving only a few inches away from your face. You flinch and turn around but you saw your most talented knight and closest friend, shielding you. "It's alright. They're gone now." You whisper a quick thank you as you open the door and the box in yiur hand falls to the floor as your eyes glued to the view before you. The woman quickly pushed herself to him, her hands on his face as thier faces collided and so did their lips. You were frozen in place, not by the freezing air of the night but by the pure betrayal. Marius pushes the woman away and catches sight of your bewildered face standing by the door. He reached out but you quickly turned by your heel and walked away, leaving your gift for him and Marius himself. He pushes the woman away and knelt down to grab the box you left, and as he opens it, there sat a necklace with a purple gem on the middle of it. He stands back up to run after you but your most trusted knight stops him. "Forcing it won't do you any good." Those were the only words he said before walking after you, leaving a hurt Marius behind.
Marius route(this) —> Luke route(next) (not written yet)
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A/N: for the things at the end of the post, im making it kinda like a love triangle or smthn so like the Vyn—>Artem route, artem comforts you at the next part and the same will happen in the marius—>luke route unless i change things up. Since this one is an angsty one, the next will b comfort
(which saves me a fuck ton of time like,,, LOOK AY HOW LONG MARIUS' IS😭😭 i wrote this for a solid hour and also thx vyn for releasing me from writers block💀 i appreciate ur sacrifice)
Lemme knkw if its too small bcs like while editing this in tumblr, i almost tried zooming in n im blind asf so,, 💀
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ihaveacorgi · 1 year
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Zuko used to love sitting on the roof as a child. It was a way to get away from the servants and nannies, the tutors and instructors, and most of all, his father. It was his happy place, his escape, the one place in the palace where he could just… be. It was just a roof, maybe nicer than most others, but it served the same function in the end. It was just a roof, but it meant so much to Zuko. And he knew Sokka wouldn’t understand that, that he had no idea why Zuko was so nervous to bring him out here. It was just a roof, afterall.
Sokka seemed to love it too, from the awed way he looked up at the stars and out over Caldera. “This is beautiful, Zuko,” he breathed, turning his brilliant smile towards Zuko. “I bet this is how Yue sees the world. It’s incredible. She would’ve loved this,” he continues, gazing sadly up at the moon. And Zuko knew it didn’t mean anything, but he couldn’t help the spike of jealousy that flared in his chest, regardless.
Zuko stamped it down and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, though he had never met Yue and knew nothing about her. It was what was expected, so he said it.
“Thank you for showing me,” Sokka said, as he leaned over to kiss Zuko. They existed like that, in stolen, hidden moments, cloaked in shadows and darkness, unable to be open like Katara and Aang.
“Sokka, I… I wanted to tell you something.” Zuko swallowed heavily. That was the whole reason for showing Sokka this place. He wanted somewhere that he felt… safe, for this. “I… um, I wanted to tell you how I got the scar.”
“Oh,” he replied quietly, his voice lacking any hint of joking or amusement in the way it so rarely did. And Zuko was sure Sokka had probably guessed. He was smarter than the entire Fire Nation court combined, and Zuko’s father hadn’t exactly hidden his hatred of his son well, nor had Zuko been able to hide his fear of his father.
“I… I’m sure you’ve guessed, what happened. O- or someone told you, li- like Uncle Iroh, or Aang might know, but I… I wanted you t- to hear it from, you know, me,” Zuko began, haltingly, stuttering and tripping over a few words as he tried to find the right ones to say. He’d never really been good at words and sharing his unfiltered thoughts rarely ended well, but he was going to try his Agni-damned hardest, because Sokka deserved to know. He deserved to know it how it was, not some twisted-up version, told by one of the witnesses and warped by hatred or sympathy. No, Sokka should know the truth, and Zuko knew there were only two people in the world who would tell it to him. And there was no chance Aang or Zuko would let Sokka anywhere near Ozai, bending or no.
“Ok,” Sokka replied, pressing a kiss to Zuko’s temple. “You can tell me, Zuko.”
“It… well, I guess it started because I asked Uncle to let me into a war council. Or… maybe, maybe it was before that. I, uh, I was always a disappointment. My father, uh, Ozai, he used to say that Azula was born lucky, but that I was, uh, lucky to be born. And, well, you know Azula. She was a prodigy, you know? She was always better at fire bending than me, and, well, Ozai always favored her. But I tried, Sokka. I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to slack off, or fail on purpose, or make mistakes. I did my best to make him proud, but… he just… didn’t love me. Or… maybe he never loved anyone. I don’t… I don’t know. But, uh, anyway, when I was around thirteen, I asked Uncle to let me join a war council. He told me to be quiet, not to say anything. And I, I should’ve listened, Sokka. Uncle, he’s usually right, you know? But, well, I– I didn’t listen. There was this general, uh… I don’t remember who, actually. Uncle probably knows. Anyway, he wanted to sacrifice a division of new recruits, the 49th – who were probably drafted, come to think of it. But they were young, and he wanted to send them up against part of the Earth Kingdom army as a distraction and come around the back for a completely insignificant piece of land. It was… it was dishonorable. Barbaric. We were… I was told we were better, back then. That we wouldn’t… that we weren’t like that. So, I spoke out. I thought he would be proud,” Zuko spat the word. “I thought that would make him proud, Sokka. That I would be showing him I was capable of leading, of thinking about our people the way a good Fire Lord is supposed to, but, uh, that’s not what happened. The general challenged me to an Agni Kai, a fire bending duel over honor, because, by speaking against his plan, I had insulted him.”
Sokka took one of Zuko’s hands, and he realized he was shaking. “You didn’t fight the general, did you?”
Zuko shook his head. “It… it was my father’s– it was Ozai’s war room, and I had disrespected it… disrespected him. I… I didn’t fight him, Sokka. I couldn’t fight him, and I begged. I knelt and I begged, like a coward, and he burnt me. It was his right, I forfeited, he won. His words to me were ‘you will learn respect. Suffering will be your teacher,’ and, uh, and then he banished me. He told me that I… that I could come back if I captured the Avatar. For, uh, for context, your sister didn’t get Aang out of that iceberg for another, uh, three years, give or take. He expected me… no, he hoped that I would die, first from the burn, then again in exile, but I…” Zuko laughed bitterly. “I thought he wanted me back. That he’d offered me a way home because… because deep down, that’s what he wanted. That I could… that I could finally make him proud.”
“That… that wasn’t your fault, Zuko,” Sokka replied, wiping a stray tear that Zuko hadn’t noticed.
Zuko sighed, wearily. “I know, Sokka. I was a child. A stupid one, but a child. I just, I wanted you to know.”
“Why didn’t you tell us when you tried to join Aang during the war? He would’ve understood. He’s a very forgiving person.” Sokka asked, but he looked like he knew the answer.
“I didn’t want your pity. I wanted– no, I needed to know that I could… that I could do better than Ozai. I still, sometimes I think I’ll become like him. I get so angry, sometimes, and I… I wonder if it’s just in my blood. I… I asked Aang to kill me, if I’m ever like him. I made him promise. If– if he ever tries, let him, Sokka.” Zuko’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you, so much, Sokka, but you can’t… you can’t let me turn into a monster.”
Sokka just pulls him closer and promises him that, if necessary, he would kill Zuko himself. It’s not what lovers are supposed to say, in these situations. Zuko knows that they’re supposed to tell each other that they’d never become that, that they’d always protect each other. But this, this promise is far more comforting, because if Zuko has to die by someone’s hand, he’d rather it be Sokka’s.
And, if Sokka spends that night crying for the childhood that Zuko lost, swearing to himself that he’ll never, never do anything to hurt the beautiful boy next to him, the broken, angry, but, above all, kind boy sharing his bed. That, no matter what Zuko did, he would never raise so much as a pinky finger against him, because there was nothing Zuko could do to end up anything like his father – even back when he was screaming about honor and trying, so hard, to be just like him – then that was between him and Yue, and no one else.
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tomsfoolery · 6 months
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headcanons abt Astarion’s past ft. my bc of his mom
+ her in my origin run as his guardian bc nobody is safe
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ok ok so onto the headcanons
personally I’ve named her Lysistrata in my head by complete accident bc I was rereading bosas when I was first thinking abt this so
for his mom i think she was a Paladin/cleric of sorts?? or some kind of good-aligned mercenary
so like she’d come back with all these grand stories about monsters and magic for wee little Astarion and I think he would’ve found them so fascinating as a child which would’ve led him to become interested in monsters & monstrous things up until he was an “adult” and began pursuing darker things like more power and immortality n stuff
Astarion has her hair texture & thickness, and before he was turned he had her eyes bc I cannot stand blue-eyed astarion (he needs to be able to look at the sun)
Between his two parents Astarion was much closer with his mom bc she always had such interesting stories and she absolutely spoiled him with gifts and books n stuff
I see her being the type to try to see the good in everything so she’d often sympathize with some monsters (let’s say in cases like a parent trying to protect its young) and I think that kind of stuck with Astarion in terms of him being more willing to deal with the less savory as a magistrate (or just an excuse for him to take bribes because “they’ve all got families to feed” or whatever)
in connection to that I think the biggest reason Astarion never went to her for help was bc he didn’t think there was any good left in him and that she’d hate him and end his misery in the name of what she once stood for (also lowkey hc her as being a follower of Lathander so…)
she taught him a lot but I think she herself wasn’t the greatest abt love and opening up to people and she has a hard time putting complex feelings into words so all Astarion really got was “sometimes you really like a person?? but sometimes you just like their body but also sometimes their soul and um. don’t commit to relationships you don’t want to?”
her husband is definitely a dork I’m sorry
like my original headcanon is him as an inventor but I could see him dealing in magic as well
I don’t think that he wasn’t necessarily loving but I think he just didn’t pay as much attention to Astarion as his mother did so they just naturally weren’t super close
However his dad did drag him to a bunch of social functions n all that so combine that with how spoiled Astarion was and you get classic rich boy
Astarion got his hair color & most of his face from his dad and I keep really wanting to call him Felix
After Astarion became a magistrate his mom didn’t approve of some of the things he did but she still loved him anyway, once he started trying to carve out more power and immortality she tried getting her husband to speak to Astarion abt the dangers of such ambitions but he didn’t really talk to him abt it and when he DID talk to Astarion, astarion didn’t really listen
When Astarion first disappeared Lysistrata practically tore the city apart looking for him and called in a lot of favors from old flaming fist friends n stuff but they couldn’t find him. So she resorted to a fiend warlock pact trying to find him but all she was led to was this overgrown grave with suspiciously fresh dirt and she was convinced she was lied to and broke the pact so now she’s got horns :] good job Astarion look what you did to your mother
^after this her marriage became extremely strained as she began to blame her husband for not warning Astarion but she also blamed herself for not trying to do anything herself. Thank goodness she was invited to a dinner by a local noble to help cheer her up! I sure hope he wasn’t an oily little weasel. Nowadays she does a lot of investigations on missing children in and around Baldur’s Gate and she helps out with orphanages
for my durge specific i think she would either learn of some shit going down at the Crimson Palace between this elf and cazador OR she would run into Vael (durge) picking up a portrait of Astarion and she would then inquire about why Vael was getting such a thing
idk overall she’s just very, very tired. as of now in my headcanons Astarion is her only child and to lose him so soon with no answers took a lot of her hope away from her. Especially since any gods she prayed too wouldn’t have answered for the whereabouts of some disgusting vampire
girlypop probably prayed to send Astarion a guardian Angel and then he gets sent durge
Vael’s trying his hardest but he was raised half in the hells and half in the cult of Bhaal he stinks so bad
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peaches2217 · 1 year
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🥶
🥶 Cold
Sunlight
~~~
Winter was slow in the Beanbean Kingdom.
Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised Luigi. The Beanish people were some strange mix of mammalian and plant matter, meaning their body temperature, already low by human standards, fluctuated with the changing of seasons. Sunlight was something they not only thrived in, but required to remain fully functional.
Everything from ramshackle huts to the Grand Palace itself were structured to let in as much of it as possible for as many hours as possible, and nights were almost surreal in their hush once that sunlight was gone. Their peak festival and harvest seasons lay between late spring and early autumn, and even when the air was frigid, they would drag themselves outside bundled in fifteen layers of sweaters and scarves just to feel the sun on their faces.
And when the sun wasn’t out in the dead of winter, well, nothing got done at all.
Yes, the more he thought about it, the less surprising the slow winters were. What did surprise him was how deeply he enjoyed the tedium anyway.
“Regale me again with tales of your winter holidays,” Peasley moped. He bustled about the castle without pause, tending to the innumerable flowers that brought color and oxygen into its bleak halls with hands that shook constantly. All morning he had paced as he read through papers and notes that needed his attention, and when he was forced to stop and provide a signature or write down his thoughts, he’d bounced on his toes like an impatient toddler until he could move once more. His duties complete, he now did everything in his power to create work for himself, all in the hopes of staying just a bit warmer.
This was routine, Luigi had quickly learned. The crown prince didn’t have the luxury of waiting out the winter in one comfortable, secure spot. He yearned to be a successor in his mother’s image, productive and proactive in all areas of life, and that meant he couldn’t shoulder his responsibilities off to her or Lady Lima, and he certainly couldn’t leave them for more tolerable weather.
He was very proud of his own resolve, never passing up an opportunity to brag about how humble and selfless a leader he was… until the first day winter’s chill became strong enough to reach their bed. “Save me, my love,” he’d groaned into Luigi’s chest, and Luigi had promised with a soft laugh that he’d do his best.
“Which holiday do you wanna hear about?” he asked, following on his husband’s heels. It was good exercise, he had to admit, chasing him around all day. Not too exhaustive or overstimulating. Just enough to keep the blood flowing and the joints moving.
Peasley’s trembling hands knocked over a vase on an extensive table. It clunked harmlessly onto its side. “The one where your mother forced a great bird into the oven,” he requested as he realigned the vase. Luigi snickered. Mundane traditions always sounded so much more exciting when Peasley rephrased them.
“Well!” he started. And just for theatrics’ sake, he clapped his hands together and waited a breath or two before continuing. “When we were in the fifth grade, Mario and I decided we were gonna surprise our mom by making Thanksgiving dinner all by ourselves. Bird and everything.”
He must have babbled on about all of them a thousand times, those small but noisy and vibrant Thanksgivings and Christmases and New Years in a little apartment in Brooklyn. He knew for a fact he’d told this story at least twice. Yet the tension and discomfort melted from Peasley’s face as he recounted the disaster that was two ten-year-olds trying to cook a whole turkey; he grinned and gasped and laughed so hard that he wiped tears from his eyes, as though he were hearing it all again for the first time.
When he wasn’t fiddling with the flowers, Peasley’s hand found Luigi’s and squeezed tightly. His skin was cool to the touch even during the hottest summer days. In the winter, it was almost enough to sap all of Luigi’s body heat. But he gave what he had anyway, and sometimes it was enough to allow Peasley a break from his busybodying. In those moments, he would relax his hold and press their sides together briefly, and then he was on the move once more.
And this was how Luigi spent his first winter in the Beanbean Kingdom: following his husband, entertaining him, and keeping him warm, every single day. Perhaps it sounded dull or even overwhelmingly repetitious. To Luigi, it was heaven. 
He wasn’t sure how much it actually helped, but it saw Peasley through until they could retire to their quarters and take more drastic measures to stay warm, and he took pleasure in that.
That night, those drastic measures involved curling up on the couch with three fluffy blankets, two giant mugs of hot cocoa, and Season 13 of DegrasSoy on DVD. Peasley’s small but well-built frame fit so perfectly in Luigi’s arms. Holding him near as his shivering subsided felt as natural as growing facial hair, as natural as breathing itself.
Four episodes in, Peasley broke the amiable silence in their dark room.
“I don’t know if I’ve thanked you.” His normally boisterous voice softened, a tenderness only Luigi got to hear from him. “For keeping me warm.”
Luigi chuckled at that, pulling him in even closer. Peasley was in his lap now, both having abandoned their empty mugs two episodes earlier to twine their arms around one another. Come to think of it, had he even been watching? His head was turned in the direction of the TV, but he hadn’t seemed as invested as he usually was in trashy daytime television. 
“You thank me every night, mio caro,” Luigi reminded him. Peasley, already a classic romantic, became extra sentimental when he was comfortable and tired. It never got old.
“No, I mean… during the day.” In the light cast from the TV, he watched Peasley close his eyes and smile. “I don’t know how I ever survived a winter without you.”
“Oh, come on. All I do is talk and hold your hand!”
“No, no, it’s so much more than that.” Once more Peasley opened his eyes, and this time he fixed them on Luigi; they were heavy not with sleep, but with love, so much love that Luigi felt a bit dizzy. 
“Your voice alone is a driving force,” he continued. “It reminds me that this winter will come to an end, just like every other winter before it. Before you, it always felt… endless. But you, my dear — you’re sunlight in living flesh. And I would live through a hundred consecutive winters without complaint so long as I could spend each of them with you.”
A lump formed in Luigi’s throat. Oh, the things he could promise this man — he had little to his name outside of these castle walls, but it was all his, always, and always would be.
“On second thought—” Peasley drew away suddenly, pursing his lips in thought, and suddenly that air of amorous devotion popped like a flimsy soap bubble. “No, I would absolutely complain. Constantly and fervently. That’s too much suffering to go through in silence. But!” And then he drew back in, grinning at the startled laughter his sudden shift in demeanor had evoked from Luigi. “I would endure it still, knowing my hero would be there to keep me warm.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Luigi snorted. He wanted to kiss him until neither of them could breathe.
“Darling, do you underestimate me?” Peasley gasped. “I can be so much more dramatic.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, Luigi!” Luigi’s laughter renewed as Peasley sprawled out in his lap, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock-faint. “I’m so terribly cold, Luigi! I beg of you, relieve me of this torture!”
A hiccup escaped Luigi’s throat, and he took a moment to gasp for air before diving in. “Oh, no!” he cried, twisting himself so that they could face one another without falling off of the couch. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you!”
Peasley joined in on his mirth as Luigi scooped him close, as close as they could physically be. “Oh, my hero,” he called out, pulling at all three of their blankets until they were completely enveloped in soft fabric, “my hero!”
Their show continued until it reached the looping main screen once more, but they were too preoccupied to pay it any mind.
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bluesylveon2 · 1 year
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Kalim and 98??
I am so sorry for the wait! I have been so busy with my clinic rotation and writing other stuff but it is here! I hope that you enjoy it, anon :)
Prompt: 98.  I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned??? 
Note: Modern au, aged up characters, some fluff and angst. Akh means brother in Arabic (someone let me know if I used this right) and jallab is a type of middle eastern drink.
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: not beta read and possible OOC characters
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"Is everything set?"
"Yeah. I will make sure to distract Jamil, Jade is ready as backup, and Floyd will be on the lookout. You focus on getting the work done."
"On it," Yuu replied, changing into more appropriate clothes. 
"Oh, and Yuu?" 
"Yes, Azul?'
"Good luck. You're going to need it."
---
Kalim ran as fast through the gigantic halls. According to his father, a new servant was coming in today who was Kalim's age. Kalim, being the kind person he was, wanted to show the new person around and potentially make a new friend. He was so excited that he forgot to even mention it to Jamil. Kalim had made it to the entrance, where he saw a girl staring at the house in awe. 
"Ah! Welcome to the Asim Palace! You must be the new maid! My name is Kalim Al Asim and you are?”
"Yuuka Crowley." She replied with a smile, "Thank you for welcoming me. Your house is so beautiful." 
Kalim smiled so brightly that it could rival the sun. "Thank you! The fun thing about this place is that it is not only a home but can be used for government functions, ceremonies, and more!"
Ah, that's right. That's one reason Yuu had to assassinate Kalim; because of how much power his family holds in the city. Yuu had heard about the Asim family before. They were known for building the Silk City economy and making background bribes for their heir, Kalim, to live luxuriously. Yuu scoffed at the thought. Kalim got everything at his beck and call, and what did she get? Fighting for her life to survive until the Headmaster, her boss took her in. That was where she met people like Azul and made a living killing the rich. Yuu knew this would be challenging, especially with the means they took to remove Jamil from the way. 
Suddenly, Yuu felt a tug on her arm, and she was being pulled in an unknown direction. 
"C'mon! Let me show you around the place! Let me show you the way around before you start working." Kalim's smile grew even more. Little did Yuu know that her heart skipped a beat at the sight.
---
Yuu patted down her dress as she trailed behind Kalim. The two have been up, down, and all around the Asim Palace, which started giving Yuu a headache. How someone could live in such a grand house was something Yuu would never know. The girl did not have time to ponder on the thought. She had a mission to finish. Her eyes wandered to the boy, blissfully unaware of what was happening as he rambled about the history behind the house. Yuu's skin brushed on the knife hidden inside of her sleeve. All she needed were a few seconds to pull it out and stab the heir for an instant kill. It was a shame, an innocent life like Kalim about to meet his fate when he had only shown her one-fourth of the house. 
Damn, rich people and their confusing palace-like homes. Yuu thought bitterly as she moved her arm to expose the knife. She just needed to get into position first and-
"THERE HE IS!"
"Wait-oof," Kalim exclaimed while falling as a pair of kids jumped on him. Yuu immediately jumped back and expected the scene. She thought it was so cute that she hid her laughter behind her hand. "What are you doing here?" Kalim laughed and gently pushed the kids off of him. 
One boy, who looked like a mini version of Kalim, pouted. "Akh! You promised that you were going to play with me today!"
Kalim opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by a little girl with the same red eyes. 
"No, he was supposed to play with me!" She replied, causing the other boy to glare at her.
Kalim scratched the back of his neck. "Omar. Aisha. I promise that I will play with you later. I am giving my friend, Yuu, a tour."
Two pairs of eyes turned to Yuu, and suddenly, she felt like she was being exposed. It was like their glares would reveal all of the hidden weapons under her dress. 
"Are you his girlfriend?" They both asked, causing Yuu and Kalim to blush.
"NO!"
"WE JUST MET!"
"But you're both red?" They tilted their heads cutely, almost causing Yuu to squeal and try to pinch their cheeks. 
Kalim somehow regained his senses and sighed. "Why don't you two stay in your rooms, and I will come by after I'm done, okay? We can play together with Yuu."
Both children pouted. "You promise?"
Kalim smiled and kneeled down. He extended a pinky out, "I promise." The children giggled and locked their pinkies with Kalim's. 
Yuu watched the interaction and smiled sadly. She only knew a little about her childhood besides training next to Azul and the Tweels daily. They were the closest she had as brothers, and they rarely played or acted like normal kids. Their childhood was taken away the moment they entered NRC. 
"Yuuka?"
Yuu jumped and looked at the smiling Kalim, who was now alone.
Seriously, that boy always had a smile. She had never seen him make another face the entire day she knew him. 
"Did you need something?"
Kalim grinned before grabbing Yuu's hand. "There's a place I want you to see. You're going to love it!"
---
The first thing Yuu noticed when she entered Asim Park was the large fountain with a peacock statue in the middle.
"Woah…" She said in awe and ran up to the crystal clear water. The water shined brightly like diamonds, and it looked very different from the ocean her best friends were fond of. She would gladly show them this fountain if this were a regular trip. She could even see Floyd jumping in for a swim.
"Beautiful, huh?" Kalim's voice was close now and had a hint of amusement. Yuu jumped and looked away; her face was dusted with red. 
"Yeah. It is gorgeous."
Kalim smiled and looked up at the large statue. "This whole fountain was inspired by the Princess of the Scalding Sands' fountain. Every hour, water shoots out so the peacock looks like it has feathers. In fact, it even glows with many colors at night."
"Maybe we could see it later tonight?" Yuu looked to Kalim. Internally, wanted to laugh at herself. There was no way she was going to see herself. 
Kalim turned to face Yuu. "You should! We can watch it together."
Yuu smiled brightly for once in her life and nodded. If only it were a perfect world…
"Some treats for you, Kalim." A new but recognizable voice entered as Jade (while wearing a disguise) set a tray with two glasses of ice-cold jallab down on the fountain's ledge. 
Kalim stared at the treats and laughed nervously. "Thank you, but I only take what Jamil makes and serves me. It is nothing personal."
Jade smiled his butler-like smile. "None taken. It was Jamil who wanted me to give these to you anyway, but he is too occupied at the moment too."
Kalim paused for a moment before replying. "Alright. I trust him." He grabbed a nearby cup and brought it up to his lips. Yuu felt sweat form as the liquid moved closer and closer. Her goal was getting closer and closer, yet she felt herself feel sad. The thought of seeing Kalim's bright personality go away did not sit right in Yuu's chest. The liquid was only a centimeter away from Kalim when he stopped. He threw the contents on the ground and looked at Yuu. Yuu's breath hitched when she saw the hint of disappointment in his eyes. "You know, this smells very familiar."
Yuu froze at Kalim's calm tone. She and Jade did not know what to do but maintained a calm facade. 
"Many people have been targeting me since I was young because I am the heir to the Al Asim name."
"Kalim, I-"
Kalim raised a hand to stop her. "You don't have to apologize. I knew something was up when I noticed Jamil not trying to find me and when this servant-" He pointed at Jade. "-even brought me two glasses of jallab. He claimed it was from Jamil, but I never told Jamil I would give the new servant a tour. Despite my suspicions, I still wanted to show you around the place because-" Kalim slowly placed his hand on top of Yuu's, holding it gently. Yuu did not move away but blushed instead. "I saw a light in you and wanted you to be my friend."
Yuu looked down at their hands and then at Kalim's garnet-red eyes. There was no hint of hate or anger in them. Instead, they were filled with happiness and something Yuu could not describe. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Maybe she had yet to experience it, or she just started feeling it after meeting Kalim. 
BANG
Yuu could not figure out the feeling because the door to Asim Park opened, and standing there was a young man with long black hair. Yuu recognized him from the debrief report; he was Jamil Viper, Kalim's closest retainer. 
"Get away from him!" Jamil yelled and quickly made his way to the two.
It felt like time slowed down for Yuu, and she was stuck. Jamil's appearance compromised the mission, and who knew where Azul was? Yet, Kalim's eyes were pleading for her to stay.
Who had the most priority? The mission of Kalim?
Yuu's eyes landed on Jade's heterochromatic ones, and he nodded like he knew what she needed to do. Yuu looked away to hide her watery eyes. She placed a hand inside her pocket and firmly grasped a round object. "I'm sorry, and thank you for everything, Kalim."
"WAIT!" Kalim yelled, but smoke filled his vision, causing the boy to close his eyes and cough on instinct. Kalim fell to the ground as multiple voices were yelling around him. 
"We need to go now!"
"What about Verde?"
"Worry about yourself first!"
"KALIM!"
He could hear Yuuka (if that was even her name), the suspicious servant, an unknown male voice, and Jamil happening simultaneously. His head hurt from the chaos around him, but his heart ached with despair. 
"Kalim! Are you okay?" Jamil's voice called out, now close by.
Kalim opened his eyes, and Jamil now stood where Yuuka(?) once was. The smoke and girl were gone, and Asim Park was quiet. Kalim's hand still tingled from her touch. Kalim felt tears in his eyes.
One of his newest friends was gone like she was never there in the first place. 
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A/N: What did Azul do? Set out a lot of bugs for Jamil :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.
©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.
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burnwater13 · 6 months
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Boba Fett fighting members of The Order of The Night Wind, in Mos Espa. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode, Stranger in a Strange Land. Calendar from DataWorks.
All things considered, being a leader was a real pain. Not just in a specific body part, but in all the body parts, including the brain. Grogu didn’t understand why anyone ‘wanted’ roles like that. Take the case of Daimyo Fett. He had really had to go through a lot of physical and emotional pain in order to just be able to get back his ship and his armor. To then choose to become the Daimyo and help make Mos Espa and really, all of Tatooine, a better place to live, was a commitment to a huge amount of dangerous work. 
While Grogu appreciated that Mandalorians in general were stuffed with bravery and a pretty solid fondness for fighting, all of his Jedi training suggested that the permanence of the work was questionable at best. Tatooine did not have a history of self-governance. Trying to get people, who mostly just wanted to be left to their own devices, to agree that they should be responsible for the work it would take to keep the peace was not how Mandalorians behaved, at least according to history. The Daimyo would need friends to help him and he would have to have patience and he would have to have the guidance of a proven peacemaker and negotiator. 
“Grogu, I know you’re worried about the Daimyo and how he’s going to be able to lead Tatooine, but you and I have other work to do. I can’t stay and help him set up a government. I’ve already told him to reach out to Karga. That’s the best I can do right now.”
Grogu suppressed the urge to pinch his dad when he said all that as an answer to a simple question. But he knew, as a proven peacemaker, that it wouldn’t do negotiations any good to have his dad annoyed with him. 
“Buddy, when have you ever done any negotiations?”
There was a kind of mocking, scoffing tone to Din Djarin’s voice that irritated the heck out of Grogu. When?! When?! Every single day of his life so far. All the time, everywhere he went, everything he did. It was his whole lived experience, for crying out loud!
“Buddy, come on. I know you’ve been a big help. Especially with the rancor and mudhorn and the Imps. But that’s not the same as being a diplomat or a negotiator. That’s your ability to use the Force. A real diplomat has extensive training in bringing people together.”
Grogu just gave his protector a steely look and stalked away from him. If the Mandalorian wasn’t in a place where he could listen to reason, then Grogu wasn’t going to waste his time on a debate over the merits of his position on how to best help the Daimyo. Functionally he stomped off and went to room in the palace and pouted. 
“Hey, Kid. It’s dinner time. Your dad asked me to come get you. He said something about you being pretty ticked off with him. I don’t blame you, Kid. Parents are almost magical about saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.” 
Fennec Shand had appeared in the doorway of Grogu’s room like she usually did, as a complete surprise and making no noise at all. 
He sighed and grunted at her. He didn’t really want to get into it with her. 
“Listen, Grogu, I get it. Parents are old so they think that means they know things you don’t know. Your dad just wants to save you from a lot of thankless work. He has no idea what Jedi are capable of doing. You know the old saying, ‘Need all the grains of sand on a beach counted? Give that work to a Jedi.’ I know that because I’ve seen a thing or two. Your dad hadn’t even met a Jedi until he met you and those weren’t the best circumstances for sharing backgrounds and personal history, now were they?”
Grogu nodded his head. Fennec was right. As usual. 
“Now don’t try to butter me up kid. I’ve just been around for a while. Your dad doesn’t mean to be thoughtless. But he wasn’t raised to care much about other people’s feelings. Most Mandos aren’t. They were all about conquering the next world before they ended up needing to survive one day at a time. It will take all of your considerable diplomatic skills to help him understand that working as a team is different from being an independent actor.”
Fennec made a good point. Din Djarin had always been the one calling the shots and making decisions that affected both of them. If Grogu wanted that to change, he’d have to gently guide his dad in that direction and not just try to shove him there using the Force. But he did have a question for Fennec.
“How did the Daimyo and I manage to work together, considering our past work? It ain’t easy kid. The Daimyo has a good heart which makes his slow to resolve problems. That’s why I use my considerable skills to deal with the opposition. My negotiation style could be called quiet but persuasive.”
Grogu coo’d his appreciation for her advice. If his dad wasn’t going to listen to him, he would just take a page from Fennec’s book and do what needed to be done. 
“Sure kid, but just make sure you bring them in ‘warm’. The cold storage is already full.”
Grogu laughed at that as he walked with her down to the dinning hall. He never thought Fennec was one to keep trophies.
“They pay the bills kid. They pay the bills.”
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mercysought · 1 month
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" Look, I wanna bе loud, so loud, I'm talking seismic. " /shianni to anora
unreal unearthed // accepting // @skyheld
The Queen considers the elven woman briefly, breath held just at the back of her throat as the Queen stops in their stroll at the gardens. Ambition and willingness to work were what had made Ferelden survive the occupation, it was what had made it rebuild after the Blight. It was part of Ferelden's mettle to be torn down and rebuilt by the hands of her own people. However, gumption and foolhardiness did not make a nation and did not make it run smoothly.
   “Having an official elven Bann is seismic, Shianni."
And, as Shianni didn't need to be reminded of, incredibly unpopular.
Not one hidden in the shadows, not one was a "spymaster" warming up one's chambers, not one that was only useful when controlling the elves in Ferelden. Anora had earned no favours upon deciding that someone from the alienage would serve as Bann and council her in the matters of the section of Denerim and other functions. Anora was not afraid of being unpopular, she had survived one Landsmeet, and she would make sure to remind them all that she was Ferelden whether they liked it or not.
That being said; Shianni needed to know when to make waves, and how to protect herself. Anora would not be willing to take her council in all matters and others might see that as an opportunity to pounce.. The Landsmeet had made it clear to Anora herself that the more allies, and more diversified they were, the better they would all be.
   "Your ideas are good and I will hear them." Anora herself could not have guessed how much of a great idea it had been to bring her into the palace. Anora was many things, but she was not one to suffer fools. Anora's eyes wrinkle with a small smile as both of her hands move to the inside of her heavy coat's pockets before continuing their stroll once more "But one needs patience, that too is part of your job Bann Tabris."
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