#my answer for ''where do you want to go'' was Northern Wind

[definitelynotshouting]

using only song titles of one artist/band, cleverly answer the questions and then tag people

Aaaaaaaa thanks for the tag @sculkies !!!!! :D its been a while since ive done one of these, but they're always so much fun :]

Artist - City and Colour

1.) What is your gender?

The Things We Choose to Care About

2.) How do you feel?

Killing Time

3.) If you could go anywhere—

Friends

4.) Favourite mode of transportation?

Weightless

5.) Your best friend—

Sorrowing Man

6.) Favourite time of day?

The Golden State

7.) If your life was a TV show—

Living in Lightning

8.) Relationship status?

The Love Still Held Me Near

9.) Your fear?

Comin' Home

VictimizingTagging: @corvidaearts , @raichett , @iiiacs , @sillyfairygarden , @bandanabiel , @bad12amcomic , @queercottoncandy , @chibified-wolf , @squish--squash , @ellalily

[entitled-fangirl]

A Northern Lannister.

Cregan Stark x Lannister!wife!reader

Summary: the reader proves she’s worthy of being the Lady of Winterfell.

Warnings: blood, death, fighting, cursing, yelling

Masterlist

…………………………………..

They hate her.

She's sure of it.

They all hate her.

A Lannister lion in a den of Stark wolves.

Cregan was wonderful, and he made no actions that would lead her to believe he thought her less than for not being a northerner.

But the whispers were still there.

Their mother's last contribution to the earth, Y/n was born the much younger third sibling to the twins, Tyland and Jason. The two treasured her. Due to their significant age difference, she was much more like a daughter than a dear sister. So when she was to marry, they knew the beauty had potential.

And with the war looming over their heads, she was sent to Cregan in an attempt to gain the North's favor.

The greens failed in their attempt at gaining Cregan's favor, however, the girl had not.

He quite liked her.

She had a fire to her that he knew would cause trouble.

And he also liked trouble.

What a deadly combination.

…

"I assure you, I am no delicate rose, Lord Mormont," she said through gritted teeth.

He chuckled in amusement, "You're a mere woman. We will not have you discussing battle plans."

"Mere woman?" She scoffed. "I am your Lady of Winterfell. I am married to the Warden of the North- the man you raise your banners for!"

He shrugged, "My loyalty is to him, not a Lannister wench."

Her eyes burned with fury. "Watch your tongue, Mormont-"

"-Or what?" He taunted. "You'll have your Lord Husband take it? He wouldn't."

Her fists clenched so hard she swore her nails cut into her palm.

She couldn't cause trouble. She couldn't cause trouble.


She huffed and turned around, walking away from the man, ignoring his taunting words as she did so.

…

Cregan stepped up to his war table and looked around at the men, "Where is my wife?"

They all looked around and at each other, lost at what he meant.

His brows furrowed, "Where is my wife?" He tried again. When no answer came, he snapped at a servant, "Where did she go?"

The servant bit her lip, "I last saw her storming from the castle, my lord."

"What?"

…

Hours passed, and Cregan became more and more worried, but he couldn't walk away from his war table until the meeting was finished.

Luckily, she returned.

Mid-meeting, she threw the doors open, making all in the room jump from the sound.

She stood in the doorframe, covered in blood with a look of rage in her eyes. A bag in hand.

They all stood at the sight of the lady, utterly shocked.

Cregan's eyes widened and he immediately rounded the table to get to her, "My love? Wha-"

She threw the bag down and moved to Lord Mormont. "You."

Mormont frowned, "My lady?"

She gripped his cloak with one hand and swung at hard as she could with the other, breaking his nose.

All around the table gasped, completely shocked by the woman's actions as Mormont fell against the table, holding his nose when blood gushed from it.

Her rage was all but tamed, "CALL ME A WENCH AGAIN! I FUCKING DARE YOU!"

Cregan raced forward, pulling his wife back by the waist when she began to wind up for another punch.

She grunted and fought against him, "DO IT! FUCKING DO IT!"

Cregan held one arm around her waist, the other gently around her neck to push her head back against his chest and he whispered to her, "Stop this."

But she was far from done, "I'M A FUCKING STARK! A WOLF! MORE WOLF THAN YOU!"

Cregan tried again, "C'mon."

She looked around, noting the wide eyes, "YOU CAN BE NEXT IF YOU WANT!"

Mormont stood up now, the bottom half of his face completely red, "Control your lady wife, Stark!"

Cregan's brows furrowed, "Pardon me?" His voice lowered, "Did you call my wife a wench, Mormont?"

Y/n finally quieted herself, her chest heaving but her eyes glaring.

Cregan finally looked at her and really took in the blood, "Where did all this blood come from?"

She looked over to the cloth bag she left on the floor.

Lord Bolton crossed the room, picking up the bag and grimacing when he saw what laid inside. "My lord?"

Stark's eyes moved between his wife and the man. "What is it?"

"Two heads, my lord."

All eyes moved to her frame slowly, continually being shocked by the woman.

"Love? What happened out there?"

She pulled herself away from him and reached up, trying to wipe the blood from her face but smearing it instead. "Green spies."

He frowned, "How did you know?"

"Tried to take me back."

Silence fell over the group and Mormont decided to break it, "Perhaps they should have."

Instant rage fell over Cregan's face and he rushed forward, throwing a punch at the man, connecting with his jaw. "YOU BASTARD!"

Bolton stepped forward, "My lord. Please."

Cregan held the bloody Mormont up by his cloak, his jaw clenched as he growled the words out, "To the wall."

Mormont frowned, "w…what?"

"To. The. FUCKING WALL!" And he threw him to the ground.

Cregan then turned to the rest of his war council with equal anger, "Anyone else wish to spew insults in my face?"

When no one answered, he turned to his wife, whose anger had disappeared and surprise had replaced it at his actions. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Yes, Cregan."

He grunted and moved back to his place at the table. "Go wash yourself and return. You're needed here."

She nodded, leaving the room quickly.

"Someone get this Mormont scum out of here!"

…

The entire North heard of the Lannister girl's actions, and it was quickly forgotten that she was of Lannister blood entirely.

She was a Northerner.

There was no doubt about that anymore.

………………………………

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

[novaursa]

You are an absolutely amazing writer and I adore all your stories.

If your requests for short stories are still open, I would like to request one with Cregan Stark and Targaryen reader where she is pregnant with their first child and gets jealous because Cregan is being secretive and she catches him few times talking to some of his closest men and mentioning an unknown female name. One day she can't take it anymore and confronts him. It turns out he found injured pregnant female direwolf and was taking care of her and her pups which he wants to gift to their child. (It would be fun if reader has already dragon but bonds with direwolf mom as well).

Daisy

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Heavy with your and Cregan’s first child, you get suspicious when your husband starts to sneak out to see Daisy. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is bonded with Silverwing. For more of my works, visit my blog. The first list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

You pace back and forth, hands resting on the swell of your belly, anxiety bubbling like a cauldron on a fire. Your gaze drifts to the furs on the floor of your chambers, the large bed that feels far too empty most nights as of late, and the flickering light of the hearth that does little to soothe the unease gnawing at your mind. Cregan has been… distracted. He leaves early in the morning, returns late, his excuses as thin as the northern air.

And Daisy.

You’ve overheard him whispering that name, hushed and guarded, always to his most trusted men. Every time you approach, the conversation stops abruptly, like the snap of a trap. It's enough to make any woman suspicious—especially a woman heavy with child, swollen with not only your firstborn but a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and perhaps a bit of jealousy.

"Silverwing," you murmur, glancing toward the small window. Though your beloved dragon isn't visible from the Keep, you know she’s nearby, perched on the cliffs, her silver scales glinting in the pale sun. "Do you know what he’s up to?" But if she does, she offers no response.

You frown. Even your dragon seems to be in on this secret. Traitor.

Another morning arrives, and Cregan departs before dawn breaks. The soft murmur of his voice filters through the stone walls as he speaks to his men again, and you catch it—Daisy.

That’s it. You’ve had enough. It’s time for answers.

You pull a thick cloak around your shoulders and storm down the stone corridors of Winterfell. The biting northern wind whips at your face as you march toward the stables, where Cregan is often found before heading into the woods. Your feet, swollen and heavy, protest with every step, but nothing can stop you now.

There he is, standing with a few of his men, his tall figure unmistakable even through the morning mist. You watch as they exchange low words, but the moment he spots you, they scatter like children caught stealing sweets. You fix Cregan with a glare that could burn the snow around you.

"What is going on, Cregan Stark?" you demand, hands on your hips, the weight of your belly only adding to the intensity of your stance. "And who is Daisy?"

He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by your sudden confrontation. "Daisy?"

"Yes, Daisy," you repeat, not giving him a chance to deflect. "I’ve heard you speaking about her. And don’t lie to me, Cregan, I’m pregnant, not deaf."

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize. "Y/N," he begins slowly, "it’s not what you think."

"Oh, it never is," you snap, your voice rising. "You're sneaking around, speaking in hushed tones, all while I’m here, waddling about, wondering if my husband has taken to… to some northern woman!"

"Some—" Cregan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usually serious expression cracks into a brief smile. He quickly wipes it away, knowing well enough that your temper is not to be tested right now. "No, no, love. You’ve got it all wrong."

"I do, do I?" you huff. "Then explain. Who is Daisy?"

There’s a pause, then he sighs, realizing there’s no more avoiding this. "Follow me."

Still seething, you follow him into the woods just beyond the walls of Winterfell. The snow crunches under your boots, and the cold air stings your cheeks. You consider demanding answers again, but before you can open your mouth, Cregan stops beside a small thicket, gestures for you to come closer.

He kneels, parting the branches, revealing a small, hidden hollow where something stirs. Your breath catches as you peer inside.

Lying there, curled up with her pups, is a massive female direwolf. Her fur is thick and silver, speckled with dirt and a few patches of blood—recent wounds from a hunt gone wrong, it seems. But even in her injured state, she exudes strength, a fierce protectiveness as she shields her young.

"This is Daisy," Cregan says softly. "I found her a few weeks ago, injured and alone. Her pack must’ve been killed, but she survived with her pups. I’ve been taking care of them, bringing them food, tending to her wounds."

You blink, feeling the confusion melt into something else. "...You’ve been sneaking out to care for wolves?"

"Aye." Cregan chuckles lightly, glancing up at you. "Not just any wolves, love. I wanted to surprise you. I thought… a direwolf pup would be a fitting gift for you and our child. A symbol of the North, something to protect the little one, like Silverwing does for you."

Your heart softens as you watch the direwolf, her eyes meeting yours for a moment. "So… you weren’t keeping secrets from me about another woman?"

Cregan grins, a lopsided, boyish smile that makes your irritation melt away. "No. Only Daisy here."

You cross your arms, feeling more than a little foolish now, though your pride won’t let you admit it outright. "And why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says, rising to his feet and wrapping an arm around you. "But you caught on quicker than I expected."

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. "You know what’s worse? Silverwing knew, too. She didn’t say a word."

Cregan laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Ah, dragons and direwolves—more loyal to each other than to us, it seems.

You huff, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you lean into him, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the chill. “Next time, Cregan Stark, no more secrets. Wolves, dragons, or otherwise.”

“Agreed,” he murmurs, his hand resting on your belly. “I’ll share everything with you from now on, Y/N.”

As you both stand there, watching the direwolf and her pups, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. The North, with its biting winds and endless snow, feels a little warmer now—filled with the promise of new life, both yours and the wild creatures that will grow beside your family.

"Perhaps we'll name our child Daisy," you tease, elbowing him gently.

Cregan groans. "Gods, no. One Daisy in this family is enough."

[thedutchess07]

Sim Screenshot Quality?

Hey everyone <3

I've been getting asked how I get my screenshot quality the way I do quite a bit lately, soooooo I thought I'd answer through a general post. Sorry for the long post >.<

Software and lighting mods I use:

Gshade, ADOF* & Relight*

SRWE

GIMP or Facetune

In-game lighting mods

Maxis lighting

GSHADE, ADOF & RELIGHT

Installing Gshade tutorial here. This video also goes over how to change over to DX11, which if your PC has the capability to do so I totally recommend.

What Gshade preset do I use? Check my FAQs.

*ADOF... okay so ADOF is not a separate software but a shader in Gshade/Reshade. This is one of the common questions I get asked. Check out this Youtube tutorial on how edit your ADOF settings to your preference (15:53 min). For those confused on ADOF, it's what the blurry background of the pics. For ex. below, I like to play around with this setting a lot depending on my mood haha.

*Relight.. like ADOF, relight is not a separate software but a shader in Gshade/Reshade. This is what takes my screenshots to the next level. Youtube tutorial here and in depth guide here. Now you have to play around with relight a bit to get it exactly how you want it. Depending on the mood I'm going for will determine my placement and color of the lighting. For ex., below I focused on the middle and eye area with a white light...

I was going for a Catherine Zeta-Jones, Morticia Addams vibe (idk if yall caught that or can see my vision lol)

SRWE

Youtube tutorial here and in-depth guide here. Now SRWE is my bestieee lol. For SRWE profiles, that depends on what your computer can handle. The in-depth guide I linked helps you configure what profile is for you. Typically for me I do 3600 x 4800, but depends what kind of shot I'm going for. You don't have to use this esp, if you have a top tier GPU and monitor... I'm in the process of upgrading my PC, so who knows if I'll still be using it.

GIMP or FACETUNE

Tutorial on GIMP and tutorial on FaceTune. GIMP is like a free version of photoshop and Facetune is a photo/video editing application. I use GIMP and Facetune is for the grain effect and sharpener. I will only use the grain effect if it fits the vibe I'm going for, yes I can turn on film grain in Gshade, but I don't like how it comes out in my photos. As for sharpener tool, I only add a touch of it on my pics and not every picture. When I say touch I mean literally lol, I don't like a lot where it gives it that weird drawing effect (???). Like I said, I use this occasionally depending on the mood. A new feature I've recently used on GIMP was the shadow and contrast tool. For ex. below you can see before and after. I darkened the background and added a bit of contrast for a more pop effect on my sim.

Before After

LIGHTING MODS

I use:

Northern Siberia Winds Gentle CAS and Even Better In-Game lighting mods.

Lummia's No Blu and No Glo.

Lotharihoe's Brighter Walls and Foundations, Cubemap Remover, and Out Of The Dark (Indoor Lighting Mod). Which can all be found here.

I don't have Softerhaze's lighting mods, my brain cannot process how to install it hahaha (all jokes aside if you know good youtube tutorial lmk, bc I'm a huge visual learner).

MAXIS LIGHTING

Yessss maxis lighting also plays a role (for me personally). We all know maxis lighting is kinda trash, but it also has its place in things. Depending on the theme/vibe I'm going for also determines the season and time in game. For ex. below these pictures were taken in summer at 6pm (in-game lol). That gave me the perfect lighting from the maxis side to compliment all the other components I use.

Alright, I think that's it. Sounds like a lot, but it's really not. This is just how I do it, so you will find your own groove and settings on how YOU like your pics. Hopefully that makes sense to you all, and if not shoot me a message through my WCIF/Ask button. :)

Like you, I am learning about all of this. I am by no means a tech whiz, I have to do a lot of research myself to understand things.

Have a lovely day or night ppl!!!

[twstfanblog]

This is more of a worldbuidling question but what do the commoners live like in each district??? I'd there more of an emphasis on art in the west and everyone has like. Crazily painted houses or elaborate gardens, and do southern commoners have a higher cost of living because it's so expensive to shop there? In southern schools, is there a surplus of those kids that bring snacks to school and sell them because if how ingrained business practices are? Or is it just normal? I want to know more about the more middle class characters like Jack and Trey T_T. Speaking of which how did Ace and Deuce become Riddles servants 🤔?

Also what about the slums and Ruggie? Are there more slums in a certain district, I'd assume he'd be placed in the east... maybe the kingscholars like to cut costs and corners to make more profits, even though it leaves the general population poorer? Also do leona and ruggie ever meet in this au???

That's all my questions for now! I'm probably gonna have more but if you don't want to answer them that's totally fine! Hope you have a good day ^^!

*Cracks knuckles*

Ok, here we go. Long Answer coming!

The price of living increases the closer you get to the capital. So the slums of each area are around the edges of the district on the opposite side of where the palace sits.

Class-wise, the southern district is mostly populated by nobles since no matter where you go, it's considered prime real estate. So the South doesn't really have a slums, since its main population are rich commoners and business-owning nobles.

Oh the kids try...but the schools are already running school stores where you can purchase lunches, snacks, school supplies, small plots of land. You gotta be a very crafty school child to get your foot in the door starting a business while still in school.

Schooling is pretty standard across the empire, the southern district puts a heavier focus on math and reading though, just because most of the kids who do attend school normally end up working for their family business. East has a number of culture studies, the west has so many electives to pick from it's almost scary. Northern children basically get funneled into the military (The fuck are you feeding these kids? Why do they all grow up to be TANKS????)

Lord the West district is a nightmare to HOAs. So many houses all with different vibes and color palettes. The scholars who picked the middle ground and became architects building the most insane 'shouldn't be standing against a strong wind' kind of houses. The theming gets more uniform the closer to the capital, but that's just because that's the more tourist area, where all the big theaters and conference halls are.

Speaking in terms of just size, the East has the biggest slums of the empire. Since they are the main resting point for visiting diplomats, it became a culture hub and most of the immigrants moved their because it was more familiar to their homelands. in turn there's just A LOT of people there and sadly not enough work for everyone. at this point it's just cheaper to live on the edge of the empire than moving to the second cheapest housing; the West slums. The Northern slums are basically just living on a mountain and surviving off the land.

Ruggie and Leona do meet! As he gets older, Leona's fights with his dad get worse. One night it was bad enough that Leona just ran away and was missing for nearly a week. Ruggie finds who he assumed was a homeless man and helped him out a bit 'We've all been there man'. In his time in the slums, Leona finds a bit of purpose and wants to help the people he technically rules over.

Leona is found and leaves without saying goodbye to Ruggie. YEARS LATER, a servant of the Duke Kingscholar comes to the slums asking for Ruggie to come with him. Farena is slowly taking over the Duchy from their aging father and Leona listed Ruggie as a good choice for a consultant. Ruggie actually does pretty well in the role, just gotta give him a crash course in etiquette before every formal dinner he has to attend now.

Let me list where everyone is!

North

Jack lives with his family after his mother secured a tutor job for a noble child when they first came to the empire. Once in the north, his family of wolf beastmen flourished and lowkey are treated as untitled nobles.

Sebek's family has strong ties to the royal army since his grandfather served and is friends with THE LILIA VANROUGE. Sebek's dream is to join the army to continue his family's legacy (And maybe see the prince. HE RESPECTS HIM OKAY!? DON'T TEASE HIM ABOUT THE POEMS HE WRITES!)

Epel lives with his family on one of the many farms contracted to supply produce to the palace. As such they have very high standards of their produce and won't let you talk down to them even if they aren't nobles.

East

Ruggie moved to the empire with his 'grandma' in a big group of refugees when he was very young. He does odd jobs around the district to help support his community.

Rook was born and raised in the upper-middle-class East District. He only moves to the West District to further his art career once he comes of age. From there he meets Vil and they fall in artist love.

South

Azul's mother owns a very popular seafood restaurant. It's half in the water and displays the first shell coin her great-great-great grandmother made in the sea (For luck!). She married into nobility with Azul's stepfather who accepted Azul as his own.

The Tweels family aren't titled but with how many dirty dealings they've done with the various shady business owners, they might as well just buy a title. A very wealthy and dangerous commoner family

Trey's family owns a very nice bakery! With the high-quality baked goods and fair pricing, they're normally packed by commoners and noblemen alike.

West

Vil and his father live and breathe the theater. They've been living in the West since Vil's dad moved from the capital to help an old friend establish his theater.

Riddle lives with his mother and live-in attendants and is lowkey miserable but working hard to achieve in his studies. They use to live in the South, but his mother said he was distracted too easily there.

Deuce lives in fairly cheap housing with his mom and grandma. Deuce's mom travels from the West to the capital to work for a week then to come back for a week off.

Ace has a similar situation to Deuce with his mom AND older brother going off for work. It's why they take the jobs to be aids for Riddle. Also known as 'Riddle's mom had to buy him friends'.

The Capital

Cater's dad is a senior member of the imperial bank! He and his family live pretty cushy lives even though they don't have a title. Cater's looking to change that and has been studying how to bag a noble beau every social season since he was seven.

Silver lives in the palace with his father and Malleus since Lilia brought him home. His curse is slowly getting worse with age but he's still working hard so that he can try to pass the army entry exams.

I hope this answers everything! Let me tell you guys, world-building is much FUN!!!!

[thewhumpcaretaker]

❧ 𝔽𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕄𝕒𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝

Michael Corleone x Reader (gender neutral), 700 words

In the wake of Fredo's death, with his wife gone and his family in shambles, Michael reluctantly talks to you about what he has lost.

TW: grief, hurt/no-comfort adjacent (reader tries to comfort him but somewhat fails)

Image Source

The leaves are moving over the grounds of Michael Corleone’s home. An unseen force of northern wind hurries them away, where they will tumble over the wooden dock, and then into the lake. The master of the house sits watching them, and watching nothing. He’s not even smoking his cigarette.

Fredo Corleone is dead.

“Michael.” His name is an address, a well-worn and star-studded thing. It isn’t like other people’s names, it isn’t like other words. It has become a title. But a man still lives inside it.

He doesn’t look at you.

“Will you tell me what you’re thinking about?”

It confuses him that you’re addressing the man and not the title. He has forgotten how to answer as a man. He clears his throat. “No.”

You stay silent until the no becomes a yes.

“My father’s birthday in 1941. We were all gathered, all of the brothers and Connie too. They bought this big…this big cake, and we were all talking about the Bombing of Pearl Harbor, the soldiers there... And Sonny told me something I’ll never forget, he said: ‘They’re saps because they risk their lives for strangers. Your country ain’t your blood, you remember that.’ And that’s when I told ‘em I enlisted in the marines.”

“How’d they take it?”

“Just got too quiet. Sonny even tried to knock some sense into me but he got held back. And then they all filed out and there I was.”

Another silence that you spend not saying the wrong thing until he speaks again. “The only one who said a kind word to me was Fredo. Too stupid to know any better.”

"You wanted to follow your own path. I get it. It's not like you knew where it would lead."

He twitches, a fraction of a movement, like he’s responding to something internal that’s so unpleasant he has to physically shy away from it. He looks so old.

You say the one thing that has to be said: “I’m sorry about Fredo.”

He flicks at his cigarette so hard you think it’s going to break in half. You know exactly what happened, of course. It’s obvious to anyone who knows the intricacies of the situation. His own damn kids will know. “That’s rich. Apologizing to the devil for the fall of man.”

And now you’re out of words. You can’t exactly say it’s not his fault. The best you can do is, “I’m sorry things turned out this way.”

Finally, he looks at you, and it’s with those too-wide eyes, that look that proves he’s held a gun before. Suddenly he’s yelling. “SORRY FOR WHAT!? Sorry I lost everything? Sorry I RUINED everything?”

“Yes.” That shuts him up. Your frankness – that’s the one thing you have that can disarm him when all else fails. “You’re a good man. You love your family, and that has never changed. It’s a tragedy, how things got torn apart. I want to do something for you. I want to make this hurt less.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“I know. You need your family. And I’m…not. But this isn't about me. I'm just somebody.” You were never really a part of that circle. Not like Kay, and even then, even for her, even before she did everything wrong…she wasn’t enough. She didn’t pull him back.

Still. Doesn’t it mean something, that somebody sits beside him now? Anyone at all. He puts his head in his hands. Maybe if you hadn’t been here, he wouldn’t have bothered to do that. Maybe he would have just kept staring at those leaves until the sun went down, or until there was work to be done.

Instead, his head is resting in his hands, and there is a hand on his shoulder, too. “You’re not alone, Michael.” He can’t take it. He’s sobbing, because he is alone in every way that matters. You do not matter to him. So be it.

So be it if you cannot help him. You will die trying. So be it if you’re not enough to stop the pain. You live to make sure that someone, anyone, sees him.

You do not matter to him. But he leans into you anyway.

[greenbloods]

re ask game:

1, 3 , and 7 :)

the character everyone gets wrong

stannis oh my goddd. yes yes he sucks yes the redditbros are annoying about him boohoo but the sheer number of people willing to see other characters as complex fully realized people and then completely drop the ball when it comes to stannis is far too large. people act as if hes completely drunk the cult leader koolaid and fully buys into the 'im the destined savior of the world' in the same way that meli does. and im sorry but i just dont see it that way

stannis cant be understood without the context of his youth (i dont think anyone of these characters can, but stannis especially). he was a kid orphaned at too young an age who watched his parents drown, having his brother robert abandon him (in his eyes) and replace him with another solemn, stern figure who focuses a lot on honor (this replacement being one of the reasons why stannis resents ned still), who grew up in a siege where he was forced to eat his own boots for leather, whose brother whom he kept fed during the siege goes on to turn against him and side with the very people who had besieged him for a year while feasting outside their walls. he on some level wants to believe he's azor ahai, wants to believe he really is the destined hero meant to save the realm. and he has heroism in him! he answers the call of the nights watch when no one else will, he listens to jon's counsel on courting the northern hill tribes and about the others, listens to sam and his story of slaying the others with dragonglass and about the black gate. but he also does many unheroic things! hes a hypocrite a lot of the time, and often doesnt mind bending honor for his own gains (trying to legitimize jon and marry him to val to bind the north and the freefolk together comes to mind). the whole burning people alive thing comes to mind too.

but i think his character also poses an interesting question: what happens when you put a (mostly) reasonable person in a situation where you try to convince him that burning people alive is the only thing necessary to saving the world? because it's not like stannis is gleefully tossing people into the fire; magic is real, as hes increasingly convinced, and the burnings have material benefits for him in terms of producing fair winds for sailing (agamemnon parallel), killing the other kings through blood magic, etc. the people he burns (alester florent who 'betrays' him as hand, mance rayder [though really rattleshirt], the peasbury men who cannibalized their fellow soldiers, etc.) are all people condemned to die anyway, whom he gives to melisandre as a compromise to her. he often ignores melisandre's advice at first, only taking her counsel more and more only when he cant ignore the fact that her advice works. and through this he loses his way.

donal noye says that stannis is brittle iron, who'll break before he bends. a lot of other characters believe that too, and a lot of people in the fandom. but thats not true. stannis is constantly bending throughout these books; he has a character arc too, only one that is harder to see because we're more focused on davos and jon and people around him. and we see this most clearly in the passage above, when stannis is trying to convince himself that meli's argument is sound. what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom? everything.

i dont know if stannis was convinced by this; edric storm was smuggled from him after all before he had a chance to decide what to do with him. but i think that this, and the fact that davos helps convince him to go north, show the fact that stannis is a lot more pliable than people give him credit for, and that he's not just 'doomed idiot uncle who stupidly believes he's the Chosen One' like some people like to reduce his character to.

i do think he'll die in winds though, sometime after the battle for winterfell. im not sure whether he'll burn shireen or whether it'll be meli, but i could see it going either way. hes too Doomed to survive until spring im sorry

also a lot of the meereenese characters are a lot more complex than people give them credit for but thats a longer post. check out the meereenese blot essays

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

too many to count but anytime people start talking about targaryen blood quantum a little too fervently i get skittish like a horse about to kick someone

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

mm i dont think theres anyone like that fortunately my mutuals mostly have correct opinions on all the major characters. i will say that the reverse happened where i am now a darkstar defender because too many of yall thought he was cringe. WHEN winds comes out and we get the gerold dayne pov chapter...then youll all see....

[qiutls]

TNGDH 014

The festival began in earnest in the North, and the celebration was lively enough to forget the coldness of the winter.

'Hmm, why are they holding such a big festival when it's not even the season of harvesting?'

It's hard to get flowers during this time of the year, since the cold wind blows day and night, it must be expensive to buy them from outside. It's not even thanksgiving, nor spring... Why is the festival celebrated during this cold season?

"Because the day is short."

Sen answered my question clearly.

"It's a period of time where there's less stuff for people to do. And people tend to get depressed easily when the amount of sunlight is reduced. Lethargy makes people sick; the poor starve to death and the pessimists often kill themselves."

I see. I've never thought of that.

I looked up at the red sky beyond the castle walls. The sun was already setting even though it was still early in the day.

"So, His Highness deliberately makes the coldest and darkest times lively. Spending this week, by generously releasing food collected throughout the year and buying people's goods at a high price. Aristocrats from the city are also invited to spend money for the merchants to earn their keep. It's like giving a gift to the people of the estate in order for them to keep enduring until spring."

That means, while Kyle's not hanging out with me, he was taking care of everyone in the estate. I honestly admire it.

"Soon, His Highness will deliver a speech to commemorate the charity event. Do you want to go and see it?"

I nodded.

There's still time left anyway. I tried to meet Belial, but unfortunately, I still couldn't, so I just looked around the castle. Since the time for "Summon" was doubled, I can enjoy this luxury.

"Are they selling food on the street?"

"Have you not tried the festival food? Oh, this can't do! Come on, follow me. I'll treat you today!"

The place Sen led me to was teeming with people and stalls.

'Wow, there's really a lot to eat.'

There're orange-colored candied apples, grilled barbeque and lots of fried snacks and sweets covered in caramel sauce. My eyes, nose and mouth are all satisfied with all the food surrounding me,

'Life in the north is better than I expected...'

Only when there's delicious food can a heart full of love for the estate be born. I watched the vividness of the street while taking a bite at the food Sen bought me.

"Your Highness!"

"Thank you so much, my lord!"

The festival was more exhilarating than I thought, and so was Kyle's speech, which we watched from afar.

It was good to watch him from a distance that could be reached at any time if I wanted. But the Lord of Blake, exuding greatness, who could only be seen from afar, is also pretty cool.

He looked at his subjects from the stage with a blank expression that seemed cold to anyone else.

If you didn't know anything about him, you would misunderstand and think he was a villain or a tyrant.

But I know that's not the case at all. I haven't been with him for a long time, but I already know him well. What more for the people who have been living in this estate for years.

"It was really a good choice to come to the North."

"Who said otherwise? If it wasn't for Your Highness, we would have all starved to death a few years ago."

This was someone's vivid life, which cannot be explained by just a few lines in a novel. The reality is that the energy and passion of the people does not cool down despite the harsh winter wind. Their indomitable determination to live and breathe keeps them going.

"Who said you were a cold and unfeeling Duke of the North...."

If you look at him at any angle, you'd obviously see otherwise. Of course, I like it better like this than what the book described.

"Here, eat this too Shu."

As I stared at Kyle, Sen came to me with honey-coated fruit skewers on both hands.

I took a big bite of what looked like Tanghulu. It was crunchy and juicy, the fruit itself tasted almost fresh, perhaps because of the cold northern climate. Before I knew it, I've already eaten all four of the skewered fruits.

It was a fruitful hour, I ate delicious food and met new people. It almost felt like I was free from everything.

But now it's time to go back, I looked back at everything with regret. My eyes which scanned the street landed on Kyle, who was distributing rations directly to the people.

Hmm, it was a good choice that I decided to save you.

"The only problem is, can I actually do it..."

"What did you say?"

"...Ah! It was nothing. I was just talking to myself. Thank you for the snack, I'm off now."

Sen tilted her head and asked,

"Why are you always in a hurry to leave every day? I haven't even seen you for more than an hour."

"That- It's, well it's complicated."

I want to stay longer too. There's a pile of food to eat from here to there. That beer, that homemade sausage, and beef jerky? Just imagining them is already making my mouth water.

I eventually returned to the castle with a bag of snacks.

'I should get home before Kyle comes back.'

I shouldn't make him worry this day, or else he might turn the study upside down trying to look for a hamster.

However, there was another problem I overlooked.

"Cashew Nut, as long as you're healthy, I have nothing else to wish for."

I ate too many again, so I went home full and turned a blind eye to the nuts left in the bowl. Kyle put the macadamia near my mouth trying to make me it, but I really couldn't take another bite.

The magicians came and said they still didn't feel any mana from me, and Kyle's face became dimmer at the suggestion that he inject more magical power to me.

Kyle wrapped a handkerchief around me and brought me to sleep with him in his bedroom. But what do I do, I can't sleep since I slept a lot during the day.

I spent the whole time tossing and turning around Kyle's sleeping face.

'You're quite handsome...'

This is what they mean by being full just by looking at a handsome face huh?

I can't get enough of it.

*

I have a lot of worries.

I did locate Belial's room. However, it was embarrassing to even pass by because of the knights guarding the door.

Is it tradition for the royal family to set up guard posts outside their bedroom? You live a strict life.

Agh! Listen people, I'm trying so hard to save your lives, but how is it a possible that not a single one of you take me seriously? That villain like chandelier! I get so upset looking at it. That item doesn't care for anyone's safety!

It has already been three days since I discovered Belial's room and have walked nearby to chance upon the prince. What can mulling over it do, I can only confront him and say it upfront.

Now that the banquet is just around the corner, if I keep wasting time like this, I'll end up sacrificing my body when the time comes just to prevent the accident.

There's nothing I can do, if I can't see you today, I'll have no choice but to enter your room through the window.

"Oh-"

Just then, I saw Belial walking at the hallway on the other side. There were several knights around him, but I could see his face when I tip-toed.

I apporached him in a heartbeat. There was no time to think. This is my last chance. My desperate voice called out,

"Prince!"

With a snap.

Belial's green eyes landed on my face the same time his knights drew their swords out and placed them near my neck. I could feel the cool sensation of the blades tightening on all sides of my neck.

If this continues, I might get cut just by swallowing saliva. Please go easy on me hmm. I was just calling out to the prince.

"Uhm, this is a little..."

Isn't this too much for someone who doesn't even have a weapon? Even if I was really crazy and tried to kick Belial, my legs wouldn't even reach his head.

Belial raised his hand.

"It's fine."

The problem was that even though the prince was amiable, the knights were not and started shouting at me as soon as they placed their cwords back.

"Be polite to His Highness!"

What? Why? Is there something I should do before greeting? Should I kneel?

Judging from the atmosphere, it seems like I should. When I stood up after kneeling, the atmosphere seemed to be better.

'I got it. I got it.'

I'm like a dirty, low-ranking commoner.

"I'm sorry to disturb His Highness' business like this but..."

I lowered my head and said,

"Please don't go to the banquet."

I'm not that good at talking, so rather than explaining my actions and why I'm asking him to do this, it's better to just say it directly.

Belial took a step closer to me. His shoes came into my view of the floor. Compared to my shoes which were dirty, his were sparkling clean. Is this the saying children from different families are different.

"There are only two days until the banquet, you don't want me to attend all of a sudden?"

"Yes."

"Even though I just received the invitation from the Grand Duke?"

"Yes."

I answered carelessly.

Why do you keep asking me ah? Are you going to block that falling chandelier with that invitaiton? If you get one shot, you should shoot it. If I can save you, then I'll save you.

I lifted my head slightly.

"I'm just informing the prince." The future of the North can only be protected if you are careful. I know nothing aside from that, I'm just a pet hamster who doesn't even pay for its own food.

"You're saying that as if someone has planned to hurt me at the banquet."

Belial whispered near my ear. His voice was clear and gentle, yet his words were cold and rough.

"That's not true."

I answered casually.

"If you're thinking that His Highness Kyle has plotted to kill you, he wouldn't wait and cause trouble at his own banquet to do it, Your Highness."

And Kyle will never want that to happen. He is a person who will never do that nor even think that in his mind.

He is the leader of the North. His actions are closely linked to the future of the people in this estate. And Kyle knows his responsibility. He is quite different from you who just came here and tried to cause a scandal.

"That's funny."

Belial laughed quietly, as if I had said something weird. Him and Kyle say the same stuff as if they were brothers.

He slid his arm and grabbed my chin with his fingers, tilted my face upwards and made eye contact with me. I thought a man couldn't be both gentle and rough, but he can definitely do it. In this sense, you could say he's a great man.

But of course, to other people, he probably just looks like a gentle and fairy like prince tilting my head to see my face.

"What a strange face. It looks unique."

It's because I'm a native Korean. Your Highness, if you go to Hongdae, or Sangsu or Hapjeong, you would find 500 people who look like me.

"Why are you stopping me from attending so desperately seeing as you're not even from the North?"

What should I say.

I can't just say, I don't want you to get hit by the chandelier and lead the North to destruction.

I feel like I've seen my future in a book if I do say those words to you, my life will end with a sword slicing my throat.

Somebody help me!

Is it possible that there's someone who's fate is tied to Belial, will step in for me, just coincidentally.

"Perhaps..."

They're here.

"They just didn't want you and the grand duke to be upset during the banquet."

I turned my head in delight and saw Sen, who was holding hamster toys and snacks in her arms.

'That's right!'

[ (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ ]

'... Although I'm still quite nervous.'

It isn't a lie that I'm happy right now.

Sen came closer to me with a smile. Is it just me? There seemed to be a halo around her right now.

T/N I do hope Sen/Serena stays this way and doesn't harm Soohyun/Shu or Kyle in the future ☆ｏ(＞＜；)○

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[mirikitakato]

[Translation] Skits of "Our magical party wiz you" and the staged reading ""A Mixer After the Mission"

Good day, everyone! I have translated the skits and the staged reading from the “Our magical party wiz you!” (Mahoawa) event on January 28-29th, 2024. It took me a while, and this is not the full translation for the 2-hour show. There are also Q&A activities involving seiyuus and some additional skits with characters. However, I translated all the skits featuring CaiOwe and the 20-minute main skit "A Mixer After the Mission" written by the devil Tsushimi Bunta!

Please feel free to share the link to the translation or screencap it to react.

Characters: Oz, Arthur, Mithra, Rutile, Cain, Owen, Snow

(The Day’s skit)

Owen: Hey, are you kidding me?

Mithra: That's my line.

Cain: Hey there, you two. Let's not start off on such a tense note, alright? What's going on?

Mithra: The thing I just had for lunch is called Napolitan pasta. This guy has more bacon in his bowl than mine, not fair at all.

Cain: More bacon? How nice!

Owen: That's not nice, comparing to that pudding he has. Mithra's pudding is bigger than mine.

Mithra: Obviously, because I eat faster than you.

Owen: You were just eating everything randomly, weren't you? Ah, I feel sorry for that pudding, being eaten by someone like you.

Mithra: So you're not giving up? How unsightly.

Owen: Hah? You want to die?

Mithra: Just what I want.

Owen: Cuore Memini–

Mithra: Athrim—

Cain: Wait, hold on!! Let's not start a fight out of nowhere! You'll wreck the place.

Rutile: Ah, how about this? Since we're in a theater, why not have a competition fitting this place?

Mithra: A competition fitting this place?

Rutile: Let's have the spirits of this land as judges. Since they love singing and art, we could have a poetry competition. What do you think, dear spirits? (The audience applauds)

Rutile: Thank you.

Mithra: Well, okay. I'm the strongest at writing poems.

Owen: I won't go along with your ridiculousness. Such a stupid game.

Mithra: Oh? Is it because you don’t have confidence?

Owen: Aren't you just led by the nose?

Cain: Please don't start a new round of quarrels, guys. Owen, if you're not interested…

Owen: Fine, I'll participate. With Mithra's brain, my victory is assured.

Sir Knight, let's start quickly *kick*

Cain: Ouch! Why did you suddenly kick me?!

The theme is “Winter”. Owen, you first!

Owen: Eh? Me?

Cain: 321, GO!

Owen: The…the winter sun…on top of the sky…turns into…a frozen white jade…

Rutile: Wow, what a beautiful imagery!

Owen: On the snow field…there's…a fluffy dog…but his fur sheds…and vanishes with the wind…

Cain: Ahhh, he was so fluffy, though.

Mithra: That's it? Well, no surprise that you're at this level

Rutile: But the first part was great! I couldn't have come up with “frozen sun”!

Cain: I also love fluffy dogs, they’re like winter. When you see your dog getting shaggy, you know winter's here. It's a shame his fur fell out.

Owen: Oh, you like that? Then why don't I turn you into a big hairless dog and throw you into an extremely cold place where it snows all the time?

Cain: Why do you come up with words to insult me so easily?!

Cain: Next theme is “Northern Wizards”. 321, GO!

Mithra: On the snow field…there is a fluffy dog.

Owen: Wait, don't copy me.

Cain: It’s even the same dog.

Mithra: Standing there is a creature more majestic than a dog, a huge crocodile... and the strongest and most fearsome, me...

Mithra: Hmmm, sounds weird. Rutile, you are up.

Rutile: Huh!? Uh...if you step on the shadow...

Owen: Hey hey, it'd be cheating to ask others for help, wouldn't it? Rutile, don't say more.

Rutile: I'm...I'm sorry. I can't resist answering when someone asks me...

Mithra: Huh? Is there a rule against asking others?

Cain: Well...no, there isn't. Sorry, I forgot to set rules. But I trust the spirits (audience) will judge fairly. Let's hear Rutile's first.

Rutile: Yes! Owen's expression was particularly poetic, and Mithra was great at involving others.

Cain: I see. Both had unique elements in their poems. What do the spirits think?

(The audience applauds)

Cain: I see. Congratulations, Owen and Mithra, you share the victory!

Rutile: Congratulations!

Mithra: Winning was too easy. Poetry seems like child's play.

Owen: You just won without a fight. Let's start over.

Cain: The spirits seem pleased, making the atmosphere livelier and more energetic here.

Owen: That means…

Mithra: Then...

Owen/Mithra: *fighting each other* Cuore Memini/Arthim!

(The Night’s skit)

Snow: You're back too. Just walking around, not bothering anyone and not killing anyone?

Owen: You think I'm Mithra? I don't do those things. *sound of chewing*

Cain: What are you eating?

Owen: Dango from a nearby stall. It's right over there, by the red gate.

Snow: You're right, it smells sweet and delicious.

Cain: I noticed it too when I passed by earlier today. But I was so full that I couldn't eat anymore, so I didn't buy any.

Owen: Because you had too much Napolitan pasta, didn’t you? What a glutton, ordering such a large portion.

Cain: I couldn't help it! It was so delicious. After that, I walked around the streets with Rutile for a long time and started feeling hungry again.

Hey, give me one.

Owen: The song of hot dango.

Cain: What?

Owen: If you want one, sing. This is a payback for making me do weird things during the day.

Cain: Are you still holding a grudge over that...? Eh…Impromptu singing? I've never done that without a drink...

Snow: How about this? They also sell hot drinks near the red gate. It's slightly sweet and tastes a bit like wine, but it's actually non-alcoholic.

Cain: Thanks. Ohhh, it smells good. Now this can set the mood I need...

Owen: Cuore Morito

Cain: Ugh!?

Snow: Owen!? What did you--

Cain: ....He he he...there...is a pile of hot dango...~

Snow: Cain!?

Cain: Dango dango~~ Taran taran tan tan~

Owen: He's started drunken dancing and singing now. How clumsy and amusing.

Snow: Dear! Did you cast a spell on Cain? That kid took just a sip and he's already drunk.

Cain: Ha, ha ha...Let's take off our clothes to dance and sing, everyone...

Owen: Do it, do it~

Snow: Wah!!! Wait--! Noscomnia!

Cain: What just happened?

Owen: What, we were just getting to the good part.

Snow: Phew, that was close. Are you okay, dear? You were only dancing and singing, don’t worry.

Cain: I can’t remember…..But then that means I fulfilled Owen’s request?

Owen: Well, you could say that. Here, I'll give you a dango, catch it. *throw it away*

Cain: Ah! Hey, don’t just toss dango around like that!

The staged reading "A Mixer After the Mission" written by Tsushimi Bunta

Arthur: Look, Lord Oz, there are fireworks lighting up the sunset sky.

Oz: Indeed.

Rutile: It seems people are setting off fireworks to celebrate the resolution of the recent event. How beautiful.

Cain: Strange occurrences took place at Granvelle Castle. Although very dangerous and tricky, fortunately, we managed to solve them successfully.

Snow: That's right, the people on the street are also very happy. Beautiful music is coming from the square, it feels delightful.

Oz: Indeed.

Snow: Ah, dear Oz, the young wizards are all very happy now. You should sometimes respond to them with something more enthusiastic, like "Wow! That's fantastic!"

Arthur: Just watching the fireworks with Lord Oz makes me happy enough. And is this music the same as the one played during the inauguration ceremony?

Cain: Yes, the sound of fireworks, the music from that day, and the laughter of the people. Just hearing them makes me feel like I've been transported back to the day of the inauguration ceremony.

Arthur: The sages and their wizards gathered on the terrace of Granville Castle and waved many times to the people.

Rutile: After that, a lot of things really happened. Time has really flown by since then. Being able to become so close to Lord Arthur, Uncle Mithra, and others is like a dream.

Speaking of which, where are Uncle Mithra and Mr. Owen?

Cain: Hmm? Oh, I don't see them either. Weird, they were with us just a moment ago.

Snow: Maybe they went to confirm "The Legendary Wind Passage"?

Arthur: What is "The Legendary Wind Passage"?

Snow: The land in this area is blessed by the wind spirit, thus strong winds blow sometimes. The most famous one is a passage where there are always violent storms. It is said that only the strongest wizard can pass through this legendary passage.

Arthur: So it’s the strongest passage?

Snow: Exactly, the strongest passage, literally as the words imply.

Cain: I'm pretty sure those two are competing to see who can fly through that passage faster.

Rutile: I am very confident in my broom-flying skills and would like to participate too...

Mithra: Arhtim

Arthur: They're back. Welcome back, Mr. Mithra, Mr. Owen.

Mithra: We're back.

Owen: Ugh, that was the worst.

Mithra: Oz, it is said that only the strongest wizard can pass through the wind passage - the strongest path, and I have conquered it. In other words, I'm the strongest. Your strongest throne has been taken away by me. How about that? Don't you want to say something?

Oz: Wow, that's fantastic.

Mithra: Huh?

Oz: Wow, that's fantastic.

Mithra: What's that?

Oz: Wow, that's—

Mithra: Shut up, you're noisy.

Arthur: Lord Oz, your level of agreement is truly superb.

Speaking of celebration, it seems that Lord Oz, Mr. Mithra, and Mr. Owen have never participated in a mixer.

Oz: Mixer?

Arthur: A mixer is to celebrate an encounter. If possible, how about holding one now? I feel a bit regretful not being able to join the social gathering with Lord Oz and others.

I also want to plan a mixer for 22 people including the Sage.

But now that we are here, how about practicing this bonding event in advance?

Mithra: Interesting, I want to join this thing called a mixer or something

Arthur: Thank you, Mr. Mithra.

How about Lord Oz?

Oz: Yes.

Arthur: Thank you so much!

How about Owen?

Owen: I won't. It's boring.

Cain: Don't say that.

If we sit face to face in a social gathering, we can understand each other better and maybe become closer.

Owen: When did I say I want to get along with you?

Cain: I want to get along well with you.

Owen: I don't want to. As if I would go.

Cain: Uhmm okay, that's good then! I actually don't want to get along with you either, but I have to do this because my lord is here. Lucky for me that you refused me first.

Owen: Oh? So you actually don't want to get along with me?

Cain: Yeah, why should I want to get along with you? You took my eyeball.

Owen: Ha ha, what a pitiful Sir Knight.

Owen: Then I will reluctantly join this mixer. Let's get close to each other, shall we?

Cain: Is that so?! Thank you, Owen!

Owen: Huh?

Cain: That's good for you, Arthur.

Owen: What does this mean?

Cain: Everyone, let's join in the fun!

Owen: Hey? Hey!

Arthur: I see!

Speaking of which, the Sage told me once…in mixer, people are supposed to have some special events.

Rutile: Special events?

Mithra: No matter what those are, it’s not a problem for me

Arthur: I don't know the specific details. Let's try to find out.

Rutile: I think I have an idea! (Rutile starts singing)

Rutile: Why do you want to drink? Why do you want to drink? Because you want to drink, so you drink!

(T/n: He is singing a parody of なんで持ってんの, a japanese drinking song)

Arthur: *confused voice* W-what song is that?

Rutile: This is the kind of song everyone sings at the beginning of a mixer.

Cain: Somehow, it feels like I’ve heard it somewhere before.

Rutile: Really? I created this song, though.

Cain: Really? But it sounds a bit familiar… Anyway, since we have songs, there should also be dances, right? Like dancing in pairs at a ball.

Arthur: That sounds appropriate! Perfect for social occasions to celebrate new encounters.

Owen: So how about this?

Owen: We play a game where one person acts as the king and the rest are retainers who follow the king's orders.

Cain: This game might not be suitable for this event, right?

Owen: …it isn’t?

Cain: It could make the atmosphere tense. It doesn’t seem like a social game.

Rutile: Although it sounds fun, I don’t think it's suitable for social gatherings.

Owen:…Hmmm, whatever.

Arthur: So, what dishes do you think should be served at the party?

Rutile: Dishes, huh? If there’s a grand feast at the mixer, the atmosphere will be livelier.

Cain: You must be hungry, Rutile. How about roasting a whole pig or something?

Arthur: Sounds like the mixer will be quite lively.

Rutile: It does sound that way! A roasted whole pig would be nice at a mixer.

Owen: Hey, how about this?

Mixing a hot sauce puff into a plate of sweet puffs filled with thick cream.

Cain: Absolutely not. That's a terrible idea.

Owen: Why?

Cain: Well, it's just not feasible. People who eat the hot sauce puff would be in for a bad time. This is meant to be a rare opportunity to meet new friends, and doing this would definitely make the atmosphere tense.

Owen: …Wouldn’t that make everything surprisingly lively though?

Cain: No, absolutely not. This would make it difficult to warm up the atmosphere. Think about it carefully— putting hot sauce in the puff for people to eat. It's going to be very tense, I'm telling you.

Rutile: I would certainly feel nervous…

Owen: Hmmm, whatever.

Snow: Ah, now I remember!

Rutile: What is it, Lord Snow?

Snow: Dear Sage mentioned a "first impression" game that seems to be held at the mixer.

Rutile: A game of first impressions?

Snow: Yes, for example, a question like "Who looks the gentlest here, or the richest person," and then you point to someone intuitively.

Snow: I hope everyone points to me when being asked "Who is the cutest person here?"

Oz: He just blurts out his wish.

Mithra: I definitely don't think you're the cutest person. If you asked who the scariest person is, I'd probably point to you.

Snow: I'm not scary. I'm obviously very cute.

Rutile: Very cute, indeed. But since we’ve met before, it might be difficult to judge as if it were the first time.

Snow: No worries. If it's just for a short time, I can erase your memory!

Mithra: Hah?

Owen: Erase memory?

Snow: Noscomnia.

Snow: Great, now we can play the first impression game!

Snow: Okay, after preparing, let’s point out who the cutest person here is.

Arthur: What just happened?

Mithra: What kind of terrifying magic was just used?

Owen: Step any closer, and I'll kill you.

Owen: Cuore-- Mithra: Arthi-- Oz: Voz--

Snow: Wait, wait, don't be so excited yet

Mithra: What do you mean?

Owen: Who are you?

Oz: Voz–

Snow: I said wait! Now everyone is playing the First Impression game.

Rutile: First Impression game?

Snow: Yes, it is to determine who the cutest person here is in the first impression.

Cain: Hold on a minute, I don't remember anything, not even you or myself.

Snow: Well, don't worry about that.

Cain: Don't worry?!

Snow: Yeah, don't stress about it, it's no big deal.

Cain: Is it really okay?

…Well, I suppose it is!

Rutile: Great, I don’t remember anything either, so I feel relieved to hear you say that.

Mithra: What's going on? That boy's complete lack of any sense of crisis is making me irrationally angry. My stomach seems to be hurting too.

Rutile: Oops, brother over there, do you have a stomachache?

Drink some hot potion to soothe your stomach, it'll help. I'll warm it up for you now.

Ah, but... T/n: Usually Rutile calls Mithra "Oji-san," but he's addressing Mithra as "Onii-san" now.

Mithra: What's the matter?

Rutile: This potion is very bitter. Brother, can you handle it? Will it be difficult for you?

Mithra: Not a problem. If need be, I can even eat grass.

Rutile: Ha ha, you're quite the wild one.

My first impression of you, brother, is that you're a very wild person.

Mithra: Ah, thank you.

My first impression of you is that of a careless person.

Snow: Look like someone knows how to play the game already!

Arthur: Hm? If you look closely, you two have the same eye color.

Cain: Ah, you are talking about me?

Owen: Me?

Rutile: That's right. Maybe you guys are brothers?

Ah, I feel like I have a brother too.

Cain: Do I have a brother?

*look at Owen* Can I call you big bro then?

Owen: What a joke. First of all, how could I have a brother with such weak magic power?

Besides, just from the appearance point of view, my hair color is similar to that guy’s.

Arthur: Are you talking about me?

Owen: Your magic power is pretty strong. Maybe we really are brothers.

Arthur: …Big Brother!

Owen: What's wrong~

Oz: Wrong…!

Arthur: Ah. Oz: That’s definitely wrong, although I don’t know why. Arthur: You over there… Oz: …Are you talking to me?

Arthur: …Sir, you have been silent until now.

Can you say a little more? That way we can get to know your personality better. Maybe the cutest person here is you.

Oz: I have nothing to say to you.

Arthur: Why?

Oz: *Silence* Because I have nothing to say.

Arthur: But why?

Oz: *Longer silence* Because I don't have anything to say so I won't say—

Arthur: Why—!

Snow: So, you guys have nothing to say. Okay, I get it! Let's begin! When I ask who the cutest person here is, everyone points to me.

Mithra: Isn't this cheating?

Snow: Humph! Forget it, let's not ask you; let's ask the spirits of this land.

(Snow asked who is the cutest, who is the noblest, who is the sexiest, and who is liked by animals. The audience responded with Snow, Arthur, Mithra, and Owen. After that, Snow returns memories to everyone.)

Arthur: Where are we?

Owen: Feels like there's a gap in my memory...

Cain: And I feel like I just had a strange dream...

Snow: Ha ha, the first impression game was so much fun!

Oz: I don't remember anything...

Cain: I want to join in too.

Snow: But you already participated.

Cain: Eh? I did? My memory's a bit fuzzy.

Owen: Too bad for you, then.

Snow, did you cast some strange magic on us?

Arthur: I feel like Owen and I were brothers...

Oz: Wrong.

Snow: Ha ha! That was so fun!

Mithra: So, what about the mixer to celebrate our encounter? Is this the end?

Arthur: No, it's not over yet. It's been a while since we last met.

Let’s reminisce about the events from when we first met until now.

Mithra: Are we talking about my heroic deeds?

Arthur: Mithra, Owen, Lord Oz, Cain, Rutile, Lord Snow, and our other esteemed comrades. And let's not forget the heroic deeds of our dear Sir Sage.

Cain: From the Ancient Birds and Beasts to the Resurrected City of the Dead. Three monsters attacking Granville Castle. And the perilous adventures in the Western Kingdom.

Rutile: Too many to recount. Let's share our stories tonight as we delve into the memories we share with the Sage.

Owen: There might be some pages I'd rather forget completely though.

Arthur: Even so, these are the nostalgic scenes that shape who we are. No matter how embarrassing or heartbreaking they may be, let's hold them dear in our hearts. Like precious friends, let's cherish those dark pages with tenderness.

Oz: That’s just like you, who is good at loving others.

Arthur: It's thanks to you, Lord Oz, and the watchful eyes of everyone else, that I'm able to do this. Now, everyone! Let's prepare some warm black tea and sweets. Get ready for our trip down memory lane, with the sound of fireworks and the music we love, while listening to everyone's laughter.

--- END ---

[rowaelinsdaughter]

KEEP MY HEART CHAPTER II

a/n;; chapter 2 is here!!! hope you like this as much as im doing.

WARNING;; spoilers for heir of fire, manon and ayla are possessive over each other (i love this)

ayla hated the ferian gap.

 there was something wicked, cruel, rotten there. and she hated the amount of people reunited there. well, the amount of witches there. the blackbeak coven was the last one to arrive, and as a result, they were given the smallest rooms. not that she complained about that, she was going to sleep with manon, but the matron had made it clear that she wasn't going to ride a wyvern. it was too dangerous for her to participate, she had claimed, because the matron didn't want her to die. her precious treasure.

she had watched as manon gave three blows to her second due to a fight with a yellowleg sentinel. one to the gut, one to the ribs and the final one to the face. asterin hadn’t screamed or pleaded for manon to stop, and now, at breakfast, her second gave her a fierce grin. a small smile appeared in ayla’s face, and she felt manon’s hand grab her tight. a warning, but she took the hand placed in her tight, careful that no one notices it. 

she was wearing a dress. one that manon had bought her and had claimed it was her favorite. long sleeves that helped hide her hands, a cut on the skirt that showed her leg, a corset and high boots. she had entered the room with manon’s hand around her waist, making clear to the witches gathered there that ayla was manon’s, and the scent lingered with manon’s made clear that manon was ayla’s. no one would dare to look at her with the white demon at her side. 

but someone was watching her. 

she studied the room and found her… iskra yellowlegs. the leader of the centinel that had fought with asterin. her eyes narrowed as iskra looked at her from head to toes. assessing her next prey. manon noticed her body was tense. “what’s happening?” she whispered so anyone couldn’t hear. she didn’t answer. so manon followed the direction of her eyes and found her. she gripped the table. crack. the table was breaking under her strength. iskra gave manon a defiant smile. come on, come for me. 

she was going to kill her. ayla gripped her arm before she could stand. “manon stop. it's going to be worse if you start a fight with her”

manon looked at her, her eyes a burning gold that promised blood. ayla took her hand. “please, manon”

one, two, three, four… a minute passed until she relaxed enough to talk. “if she tries something to you or even breath near you, i kill her”

ayla rolled her eyes “you know i can defend myself, do you?”

“i know, but i don't like her”

“me neither manon. me neither”

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

even though ayla wasn't going to ride a wyvern, she had to follow manon wherever she went, so she and the thirteen could keep an eye on her. direct order from the matron.  

again, manon’s hand was on her waist as yellowlegs and blackbeaks stepped aside for them to pass. fifty witches were gathered at the hole in the side of the mountain. the matron was at the entrance of the bridge, the blueblood and yellowlegs matrons at her side. 

manon walked towards her grandmother leaving ayla with the thirteen. each heiress was at the side of her matrons. petrah, the heir of the blueblood, and iskra, the yellowlegs heir, was grinning at manon as she approached her grandmother. 

“now that we’re assembled,” the blueblood matron—cresseida—said, “shall we show you what we’ve been brought here to do?”

mother blackbeak waved a hand to the bridge, black robes billowing in the icy wind. “we walk into the sky, witches.” 

they were led to an atrium in the northern fang, where five men were waiting. each heir was behind their respective matron, protecting them. a men started to explain what they were going to do and what they were doing there. 

ayla was getting bored when the iron gate lifted. and in front of them, a wyvern appeared. a beast. she watched as everyone held their breath. “titus is one of our best,” the man said. he started to explain the characteristics of titus.  

and she watched as manon and titus shared a smile.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

tagging;; @thehighladywrites @danikamariewrites @hellwantfuckme

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

wyllaemond smut prompt: the fox of karhold and the rogue prince (ot3 verse)

well, this absolutely ran away with me. so much for being 1k words.

fall on me like night

pairing: aemond targaryen x oc wylla karstark

rating: e

words: 4.5k

this is a future outtake from the ot3verse, no more than i was or than i am, which you can find here

Lovely did not do justice to his sister's newest lady in waiting.

No, the Fox of Karhold was not lovely. 

Haunting, perhaps. Or maybe devastating was a better word. 

Her face was an amalgamation of features that may have been plain on anyone else: soft cheeks, rounded jaw, rosebud mouth. But her skin was pale as the moon, her eyes as gray as a storm that built off the coast. Narrowed in distrust as they were now, that storm built until he could swear he heard lightning in the distance. 

“You want to dance?” she asked. “With me?”

The pointed question poked at the tender bruise of Aemond's ego. “That's what I said, isn't it?” he snapped, all snarling teeth but little heat. 

He did want to dance with her. He'd watched her flit around all evening, draped in black velvet, diamond starbursts in her hair - hair that fell loose and curling to mid thigh. ‘Was it heavy,’ he wondered, ‘all that pretty midnight hair?’ 

“Fine,” she answered, her voice matching his bite even through her thick northern accent, and slid her small hand into his. 

His uncle had goaded him into asking her, watching him as he watched her. “Go on then,” Daemon had said. “It's depressing to witness.” He had softened, pushing lightly at Aemond's shoulder when his face tightened at the implication. “She won't deny you. The pretty little creature has been casting furtive glances all evening.” He turned away then, back to Rhaenyra and Alicent beside her, both smiling at whatever inane thing they spoke of, his mother in a tiara of silver and emeralds, his sister in their father's crown. Rhaenyra turned toward him, as if she felt his stare, and gave him an encouraging smile, giving away that they had been talking about him. 

Wylla Karstark’s hand was cool in his, as if the northern winds coursed through her veins instead of blood. It eased the heat that licked at his skin, ever present, perhaps more so since he had claimed his dragon.

“You're a better dancer than your brother,” the fox said primly, her eye on some faraway point over his shoulder as he guided her in the steps of the dance. His hands found her waist, pressing tighter than was altogether appropriate. But the way she inhaled sharply at his touch was worth the impropriety.

Aemond looked to where Aegon danced with his wife, Abrogail Strong. The red head was dainty, graceful even, and Aegon could not tear his eyes from her.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“I think this is the nicest you've been to me since I've arrived.” There was distrust in her voice.

Aemond bristled. “You say that as if I've been cruel.”

She laughed and the sound pulled at something low in his gut. It was a large laugh, boisterous, too big for her small frame. He wondered where she hid it. “Not cruel. Only disdainful. Distant.”

“You are my sister's lady,” was all he said in answer. 

Helaena had taken to Wylla immediately upon her arrival from the frozen wastes she called home, wrapping her in dragon’s claws and claiming she would like to keep her. It made him happy to see she had finally found another friend. And Wylla did make her smile, letting his sister set her beetles to crawl over her skirts or placing moths in her hair like jewels. 

He glanced down and found her staring up at him, head cocked, and suddenly he felt like prey, stalked through the Kingswood. But Aemond was not prey. 

He was a dragon.

Leaning forward, he placed his cheek to her temple, feeling the little shiver that ran through her. “You have lovely eyes,” he murmured, and prayed the line would not leave him embarrassed.

Wylla cleared her throat. “Thank you, my prince.” He spun her then, the long bell sleeves of her gown fluttering around them. “Yours is lovely as well.”

He believed she meant it and smiled down at her, noticing for the first time a small scar that cut through her top lip. 

The song ended and his fox was pulled away, though she kept her gaze on him until the crowd swallowed her up. 

—

A week had passed since the queen's birthday feast and Rhaenyra had been in a happy mood. Her second-born, Prince Lucerys, had arrived back in King's Landing after a time spent warding with their aunt, Princess Rhaenys, and the Sea Snake. He was tan skinned from all the time spent aboard a ship, the tawny making his hair shine more gold than silver, all smiles and tales of life at sea.

Devoid of her attention, and subsequently his mother and uncle's, Aemond wandered until he found himself in his favorite spot in the gardens. A statue of Visenya the Conqueror rose up from a stone dais, her hand on the hilt of Dark Sister, her eyes cast to the distance. A fountain bubbled around her feet, and blooms he knew to be poisonous crawled up her legs like armor, blood red and a purple so dark and deep as to be nearly black.

There was a rustle of fabric from behind the statue and he leaned over to find Wylla Karstark looking over him, gray eyes wide.

Her raven hair gleamed in the torchlight, lit by servants as the sun set. Though they were alone now. 

The thought curled deliciously in his gut. 

“You could ask for her hand,” Daemon had said after the feast. “You know you want her. And her brute of a father would never turn you down.”

“Apologies, my prince,” she said, rising to her feet, blue skirts the color of the night sky tumbling around her legs. It was the same shade of blue as the sapphire he wore in place of his eye, lost six years ago in a sparring accident when he and Lucerys had been foolish enough to attempt live steel, both boys feeling as if they had something to prove. 

“Aemond,” he choked out after a long moment.

“Excuse me?”

“My name.”

She raised a thin brow, finely arched. “Yes, I know your name.”

“You may call me Aemond.” He felt the blood creep into his cheeks.

“Och, is that right?” She was teasing him and he wasn't sure if he loved or hated it. “Well then, Aemond,” she purred, “I must be on my way.”

She passed, and as if his hand had a mind of its own, he reached for her, his fingers closing around her wrist. “Must you?��� he asked. 

The fox did not pull away. Instead she looked up at him from beneath sooty lashes, so long they graced the round of her cheek when she blinked away her surprise. 

“Stay,” he commanded, though his voice nearly trembled with the word.

“I -.”

Aemond kissed her then to silence her. It was clumsy, foolish, but she didn't not push him away. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his doublet as if to hold him closer and his own hands found her waist to draw her against him. He had the feeling neither of them knew what they were doing, not truly. At least he did not, having only shared a few kisses with Helaena when they had snuck too much wine two years ago. But Helaena was to wed their nephew now, and Jacaerys made her happy. 

He could not let her take Wylla to Dragonstone, not when he had only just found her.

They broke apart for a gasping breath and a flush crept over Wylla's snowfall skin. 

“Do you often kiss women in secret gardens?” she asked, taking the measure of him. 

He shook his head, though he could not help throwing back his own barb. “Do you often allow strange men to kiss you in secret gardens?”

“Not until tonight.”

He hummed and kissed her again, one hand finding its way to tangle in the hair at the back of her neck. A weak moan fought its way from between her lips, now swollen and pouting, and the sound of it nearly tore him apart. 

Aemond backed her up in shuffling steps until they came to rest against the stone wall, the ivy framing her body and for a moment he wished it would entangle them, keep them hidden in this moment forever. 

“Do you still find me disdainful?” His voice was a low rasp, stuck somewhere in his throat. He kissed across her jaw, down the column of her neck, his lips seeking purchase against any inch of bare flesh as his hand rose to brush a thumb over the little scar that marred her top lip. Visions of sinking his teeth into her danced across his mind and he wondered if she would enjoy the sting of pain as he did, a pleasure he had discovered when handling himself too roughly one evening, visions of her in that black dress painted behind his eyelids.

The girl blinked up at him, as if his words had only barely registered, and he felt a warm bloom of pride beneath his ribs. “Not terribly so,” she admitted, though her face was a strange mix of irritation and arousal, her eyes falling back to his mouth. He kissed her again, licking at her mouth, hoping for a taste. But her hands found his chest and she pushed gently. “I meant it when I said I must leave. The princess will require her bath soon and I must -.”

“And what of your prince?” He was pouting now, a familiar stinging petulance rising up in him. Aemond gathered her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her jaw, tightening a fraction too much. But she did not wince; she simply glared and pushed harder, ducking to slip beneath his arm. 

“I’m sure the prince can find a multitude of ways to entertain himself in my absence.” The words were snappish, a cold wind, and he saw how she had earned her nickname, with her narrowed eyes and the feral cut of her mouth.

She gave him no time to reply, stomping through the arch and back toward the keep.

—

“You are pouting.” The soft voice curled around the shelf that he currently hid behind. 

“I am not pouting.”

An indelicate snort of laughter, followed by the rustling of fabric, and suddenly his eldest sister sat beside him. 

Rhaenyra did not wear her crown today. Instead her starlight hair was twisted into a series of braids that gathered at the back of her head before falling down her back in gentle waves. Her violet eyes, nearly the same shade of his, hid a glimmer of mischief, as if being queen held not a candle to the mental torture of her younger brother. 

“Fearsome little Aemond, pouting over a girl.”

He glared. “And to think, the queen of the Seven Kingdoms sits on the floor in a library to tease her brother. Not particularly regal of you.”

“It’s a fair use of my personal time.” She nudged her shoulder against his, but he did not look at her, his eye still focused on the tome in his hands - the tome he had reread the same section of over and over. “The northern girl?” She asked.

Was he so hopelessly transparent? Had he become so pathetic?

“Not entirely pathetic, no.”

Aemond groaned when he realized he’d spoken the words aloud, dropping his head back against the shelf, the dull thud of it making his sister laugh.

“Aemond -.”

“Please don’t.”

She laid a hand on his knee. “I may have overstated your patheticness for my own amusement. But truly, you’re doing nothing wrong. Not nearly as ridiculous as your brother for the Strong girl or even Jace for Helaena. Of all my siblings, of all my children, you are the most stoic. But you aren’t doing anything wrong or shameful or embarrassing.”

“I hate this feeling. I hate the way it eats at me, the way it feels lodged in my chest.” He resented it, wanted to punish the girl for the sin of making him want her. At the same time though, he longed to see her smile directed at him, even if it was accompanied by her nearly constant ire. 

Her answering smile was soft and for the first time in a long time, Aemond remembered how young she truly was, less than two decades his senior. Rhaenyra shifted, the black silk of her gown shimmering in the light that came in through the high windows. “If you’re lucky, that feeling never fades.” She waved her hand. “Take the girl flying.”

He made a face. “I heard her tell Helaena she does not care for the dragons.”

“To be fair, the largest animal she’s seen, other than a horse, is those wolves of the north. Dragons are fearsome, they are magic made flesh. You, my favorite brother, are a dragon.”

Aemond rolled his eye. “Aegon is your favorite.”

“No, he is simply the most like me. Which probably makes him your mother’s favorite.”

“Hateful,” he teased, the knot of worry in his chest loosening slightly. “Daemon says I should simply ask her father for her hand.”

“Please only listen to your uncle in small increments,” she sighed, dropping her own head back beside his. “Just…just go to her. Learn her. Know her. See what you find.”

The idea of knowing Wylla, of learning her, made some dark thing, hot and a little wild, curl up in his belly - a feeling that was altogether uncomfortable as he sat beside his sister, his queen, on the library floor. Aemond shifted and then stood, reaching down for Rhaenyra, who took his hand and rose to her feet. She did not reach for him, did not comfort him in the way she might Aegon, who basked under physical contact like a satisfied cat. Instead she looked at him, truly looked, and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. “You are a dragon,” was all she said before turning and walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his desires. 

—

The low torchlight was Aemond’s only companion as he traversed the tunnels, counting his steps and praying that he wasn’t about to open the wrong door. From Helaena’s rooms, Wylla’s should only be a handful of paces away, close enough that Helaena could call on her at any time should she need her. 

He stood before the seam that should open into her room, directed beside the fireplace, if his rememberings were correct, and wondered if he was altogether insane for even considering this. Rhaenyra had told him to dismiss her husband’s advice, but he could think of nothing else since Daemon’s sly reminder that the little fox was prime for the taking in her own rooms, with no one around to distract them. “How could she deny you?” he’d asked. “You are far too like me to say no to.”

Aemond was not sure that was the compliment his uncle believed it to be, yet here he stood, torch in hand, his fingertips pressed to the rough stone as he imagined the girl lounging across her bed. ‘Did she sleep beneath northern furs?’ he wondered. ‘Would she taste like wine she had snuck before bed?’

Forgetting his misgivings and focusing on that dangerous tendril that snaked through him, Aemond pushed open the door, setting the torch in the iron holder beside it. He blinked when he entered the room. 

Candles burned low on nearly every surface and the air smelled of cinnamon, thick and spicy, but not cloying. The bed was empty, as was the chaise at the end of it. 

Water splashed to his left and his head snapped in that direction, eye widening at the sight of her in the tub.

Wylla’s gray eyes were wide, a small paring knife in her hand, clutched between her slender fingers. He saw the tray of fruit on the small table beside the metal tub.

“What in the hells are you doing?” she hissed. 

He noticed that she did not shout, did not raise her voice to alert the guards, and a new sort of confidence built in him. 

Aemond stalked closer to the tub, his eye darting between her face and the knife she clutched. Lower still, he found the soft round of her breasts only just covered by the still steaming water. Her hair was plaited and piled loosely at the back of her head to keep from getting wet, tendrils curling around her jaw and he wanted to lick the water droplets that raced down her neck.

“Put down the knife,” he murmured, his eye darkening at the idea of just what she might do to him with it. It was not an altogether unpleasant imagining. 

But Wylla did not put down the knife. Instead, she stood, baring herself to him, teeth showing in a snarl that went straight to his cock. Her breasts were small, no more than a handful each, and her waist tapered before blooming into hips that were wider than he had expected. He could imagine exactly how her plump rear would feel in his hands. “Why exactly would I do that?” she asked. “You sneak into my room from some hole in the wall and expect what? A warm welcome?”

His gaze traveled over her body, cataloging each freckle and blemish that marked her pale skin. Surrounded by steam and wet as she was, he wondered if this is what those old gods of hers looked like: silent, though wild, beautiful and yet terrifying. 

He wanted to taste her, to sink his teeth into her soft flesh, and found that he was at a loss for words. Stepping closer, never taking his eyes from her, he approached the tub. The heat was delicious as it rolled off of her, and he desired nothing more than to strip from his doublet and press close against her, close enough to imprint himself upon her. Gently, more gently than he realized he could, he reached forward, his fingers twining around her wrist. When she did not release the blade, he squeezed, reveling in the way her delicate bones felt against his palm.

The knife clattered to the ground and Wylla opened her mouth, likely to attack him with her teeth, but Aemond pulled her forward with a sharp jerk and pressed his lips to hers. Before she could shove at him, fight him off, he pulled her from the tub, pressing her wet body to his, molding her to him. 

She surprised him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, and with a little jump, her legs wrapped around his waist. Aemond moaned and she licked into his mouth, her tongue curling behind his teeth, her fingers gripping hard at his unbound hair.

In a clumsy rush, he walked them to the bed, doing his best to avoid tripping over unfamiliar furniture. He did not dump her against the furs, instead curling his body around hers, his hands finding her waist, her ribs, her breasts. She made eager little noises beneath him, finding the ties at the front of his doublet and ripping at them impatiently. He shed the damned thing and could not help but moan when she found his bare skin.

“My father will demand your head for this,” she murmured as he licked a trail over the column of her throat.

“He can’t.” His reply was breathless as he shifted, kissing the top of her breast before wrapping his lips around her peaked nipple. Wylla whined at that, arching her back.

“No?” It was a silly pointless question.

Aemond clutched at her other breast, molding it against his palm, delighted at the way his hand engulfed her flesh. “Not if you are my wife.” He abandoned his groping to undo the ties at his waist, lowering his breeches and small clothes until finally his cock was free, so hard it bobbed, throbbing against her thigh.

Wylla stilled beneath him. “Are you…asking me to marry you?”

The insanity of the moment, of the words he’d actually uttered, slammed into him. But such had been his uncle's advice and he owned the ludicrousness of it. “I don’t believe I asked.”

“You are telling me to marry you?”

‘Please, please, please,’ his heart thrummed, though his pride would not allow the begging question to cross his lips.

He kissed her soundly and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down sharply, as if asserting his desired ownership. “Yes,” he mumbled against her wet flesh. 

A fearful look chased away the ire and desire he had seen just a second ago. “I cannot. I…I am promised to Lord Bolton’s son.” She gently gathered his hair in her hand, tugging sweetly at the ends of it in a gesture that had him wanting to rub against her like a cat. 

Aemond expected rage. He expected that violent creature that lived in him to raise up, to swallow him and her both. He realized that she had allowed things to go as far as they had in a bid at claiming a bit of independence, a fantasy to cling to when she was back in the cold north, wife to a savage that burnished a flayed man on his banners. But it did not. Instead, something more solid, more demanding took its place. “No,” he said simply.

“No?”

“You are mine.”

He slid a hand between them then and found the place she wanted him most, and thanked the gods that his brother had beaten him over the head with bawdy retellings of his own escapades with his wife. 

Wylla’s head fell back as he teased at her entrance, a finger dipping in only to retreat a second later. He found that little shock of nerves, working at it gently until she moaned for him, the sound surprisingly husky. She bucked against his hand and he surmised that she wanted more. So he finally took mercy and pierced her with a single finger. 

There was something shocking about the tightness of her, and it kept him locked in his body, unable to tear his eyes from her as she writhed. Another finger added, and this time he curled them forward, tearing a groan from her chest. Fumbling hands found his cock and she stroked at him, no real finesse to her touch, but he was so desperate for her that it mattered not at all. All he longed for was to help her find his end, for he knew he would not last once he was inside of her. 

His mouth found her breast again and she was so responsive to his touch, wanton even, when he sank his teeth into her, that it spurred him on. Aemond ground the heel of his hand against that spot that made her cry out, two fingers pumping in and out of her at a speed he slowly increased. The flutters around his hand were surprising, grasping at him as if to keep him there, and Wylla lifted her hips, riding him as best she could until she fell apart, panting his name, pulling him up and demanding a kiss as she whimpered.

She glowed beneath him and he could swear that her skin shined with the light of the moon. Had she hidden it beneath her skin, like some myth of old?

The question died in his mind as he pressed inside of her, and the world narrowed to only the places where she touched him. She was hot, scaldingly so, and so tight that he could not stop his eye from rolling back. A pained whimper caught his attention and when he looked down at her, her face was pinched in discomfort. He kissed the line between her brows, stilling until she relaxed. He wanted desperately to be gentle for her, but now that he was inside of her, his ability to cling to that softness was rapidly disappearing.

“I’ll be yours,” she whispered, her fingertips finding the scar that split his face, and he wondered if she felt beautiful in the reflection she saw shining back at her in his sapphire eye. 

Those three words rended away his self control and he could not help but pull back, thrusting forward, and he moaned at the delicious friction. Wylla clung to him, her nails raking over his back, and he was surprised at how she matched each roll of his hips, as if even an inch between their bodies was too much. 

It was only moments, but time stretched out strange and foreign before him as he fucked her, his face buried in her neck, his teeth catching purchase against her throat. 

“Please, please, please.”

It was Wylla murmuring the words and they echoed in his mind, bouncing between the walls of his skull. He knew his end was near, that hot sensation gathering at the base of his spine. Aemond moved to pull back, to spill across her belly, not wanting to assume or risk getting a child on her before he had a chance to plead his case for her hand. But something instinctual in Wylla rose up, and she hooked her leg over his hip, holding him inside of her until he could hold back no longer and came with a groan of her name. 

For a long moment, they simply lay there, him sprawled over her, his face against her chest. Wylla’s fingers found his hair, and she combed at the snarls she had tangled therein, the gesture shockingly comfortable for all of its intimacy. 

“I warn you, my father is not the most agreeable man.” There was something hard in her voice, something full of resentment. 

He looked up at her, resting his chin against his hand where it lay on her belly. “Good then, that I boast the largest and most ancient dragon in the realm.”

Wylla rolled her eyes. “Good then, that you also boast the largest ego in the realm.”

He crawled up her body and kissed her, just a soft press of his lips to hers. “Have I not earned it?”

The girl flushed crimson, a delicious sight. “I suppose,” was all she said, but he took it as confirmation and gathered her into his arms, dropping back against the pillows. A minute twisted in a few and he felt his eyes grow heavy, the fox a warm weight against his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns over the skin of his stomach as she settled.

There was a sigh, a small shift that pressed her closer.

“Fine,” she huffed, pressing her face against him. “I’ll marry you.

[littlethingwithfeathers]

Tornado Safety!

When tornado season starts up each year, I usually do a little PSA about how to prepare for bad storms. Since it seems like tornadoes are getting more and more likely outside of Tornado Alley (thank you climate change…), I thought I’d do a little more thorough and less Deep South centered write up to help people new to tornadoes prepare for bad weather.

Please note I’m not a severe weather specialist, nor am I any kind of emergency or crisis assistance professional. This is just wisdom gleaned from three decades living in a place where this stuff was just… normal. You learned about tornado safety in school, and you knew how severe weather worked by watching the news. It’s just part of the culture around here (Here being northern Alabama). But if you’re new to it, or it’s new to you, here’s my primer.

Tornado 101: Tornado season happens in the mid-to-southeastern USA (nicknamed Tornado Alley) twice each year. Broadly speaking, tornado season is from late February to August each year, with another blip in the autumn that’s less severe. (obviously tornadoes are becoming more common outside of this area and “season” is varying more and more. Again… Climate change.) Most tornadoes occur in the late afternoon/early evening, usually after the sun has warmed up the ground and caused the atmosphere to become unstable due to the rapidly changing air temperature. The reason spring is so volatile is because that is the widest temperature change on a day to day basis, plus it rains often which adds to humidity which adds to the instability. This is not to say tornadoes can’t happen any other time of year. It’s just less likely. If you’re interested in a deeper primer, check out the National Severe Storms Laboratory page on the subject HERE! Cool… so you live in Tornado Alley or another place that gets tornadoes (They’ve been seen as far north as Chicago and as far west as California)! What should you do so you don’t get blown away?

Well first of all, don’t freak out. Don’t ever freak out. It’s fine. There’s some prep you should do both in terms of equipment and knowledge, but there’s no need to go full Doomsday Prepper on this. There’s just some basic stuff you should have and know, just like someone in northern Wisconsin should know how to drive on snow and have an engine block heater. Annual Tornado Safety Checkup: Here’s a list of things you should do to prepare ahead of time for a possible tornado or bad storm (tornadoes are bad, but there’s things that cause just as much disruption or damage like straight line winds and hail). And once you get your gear together, you should check that stuff every year. I usually go through mine in March, and then again when the weather starts to turn cold in fall (there’s a lot of overlap of this stuff and winter storm gear in my area so I can double up). Know where your safe place is. This is where you will take cover during a tornado. If you live in a house, locate an interior room on the lowest floor of your home (including your basement). This should be the room with the most walls between you and the outside and no windows if possible. Usually this a bathroom or interior hallway. If you live in an apartment that’s not on the ground floor, or in a trailer or dormitory, find out where the nearest shelter is and make a plan of how to get there. For dorms or apartments sometimes they have an onsite shelter. At work, ask your manager/boss/coworker who’s been there awhile what happens during a tornado. If you work in a non-public facing place like an office, it might take some time to get an answer (and if there’s not an answer, that’s a red flag. You should push to figure that out.) but if you work in some place that the public goes regularly (school, mall, entertainment venue), it might be posted somewhere in the building like the bathroom or a main hallway. For public spaces, when in doubt, go to the bathroom or an interior stairwell/hallway on the first floor. Remember, you want as many walls between you and outside as possible and as few things between you and the ground as possible. Get a weather radio and get extra batteries. This will be a programmable radio that will alert you to severe weather in your area. Walmart and similar stores usually have them. Sometimes news stations will give them away for free, but they aren’t expensive. Seriously… go get one. They’re absolutely vital. And make sure to get one that can run on batteries if the power goes out. I have a pretty sweet one that also has a built in flashlight and functions as a regular radio. You’ll need to program that sucker so it knows what location to give alerts for, but there’s plenty of online tutorials for that or it will come with instructions. And you may be tempted to think that you don’t need one because of internet or cell service. Don’t. It’s a trap. A major rule of severe weather safety is don’t rely on only one piece of hardware/source for information. So don’t just rely on your phone. Don’t rely on the TV. Don’t rely on the internet. Those things can and will go out. But even if the power goes out, the radio stations will fire up the generators and keep broadcasting. During the terrible tornado outbreak here in April of 2011, the power was out for over a week and we -only- had radio. They kept broadcasting though!

Oh, and make sure you swap out the batteries and test that puppy every year. Familiarize yourself with a map of your area. Map reading skills and personal awareness of your location are basic tornado safety skills. Learn what county you’re in. Learn where you are in said county and what counties border you. Learn basic landmarks in your more immediate area, especially to the west as most storms move west to east. These landmarks should be things like major highways/roads, municipal buildings like schools, hospitals, and public buildings, and other major locations of note (parks, major shopping centers, and large well-known churches). And not only will you want to know this stuff visually, but you’ll need to be able to hear it via radio and know where you are and where the storm is. This takes practice, so start working on it now. Find a local weather person you like on a local news channel and start watching their broadcasts. Sometimes you can even find them on YouTube! For example, this is how a weatherperson will explain where a storm is over the radio and which direction it’s headed: This storm is currently outside Warksburg in Warking County and is headed west across Warkwark Road along Interstate 0. If you live near the Warkmart on Warkington St. or in the neighborhood around Our Lady of the Perpetual Warking Church, take shelter immediately. If you live in Warkford Plaza or in the area of the Warkball stadium on Warkford Street, take cover as well since this will be on you in about 10 minutes. I’m always surprised at how many people can’t find themselves on a basic county map. Growing up in Alabama in the 90s, they drilled this stuff into everyone both in the school system and as a public safety project… we even had stickers with county maps for the back of your remote so you could make notes about where you were for when you were watching the radar. Map skills are basic safety in tornado country. Especially if the TV is out and all you have is the radio to listen to for updates. You need to know that stuff when the weather-people are talking about trajectories of storms, so you can know if you need to go hide in your bathroom or if you can go stand on your porch. (kidding. Don’t do that except I’m totally one of those people…) Learn to sling the tornado lingo. Know what a hook echo is and how to spot one on a radar? How about a wall cloud? Know what a super cell is and why it’s dangerous? There’s a whole lexicon of terms about tornadoes and learning them will help you more effectively watch your local weather coverage during severe storms. You should also learn what the different alert levels are and what they mean… but the short version is that a Watch means conditions are favorable for tornadoes (this often gets announced at least a few hours before storms move into the area), and a Warning means that a tornado/funnel has been spotted or has appeared on radar (This will be announced as soon as the rotation is spotted on radar or there’s a physical report on the ground. Likely lasts less than half an hour). Watch means just hang tight, get eyes on your safety gear, and keep an eye on the weather. Warning means there is (or is very likely) a tornado on the ground so if you’re in the path, go hide. A great source for this and other vocabulary is here!

Get a first aid kit. This is basic life safety, really, but it’s also important for tornado safety. If you can, get one of those kits that has some of the outdoorsy survival stuff like rain ponchos, alcohol wipes, emergency shears, and splinter removal. You will also want sunscreen in there (in case the power goes out for a long time and you need to walk somewhere like the grocery store so you don’t waste gas). Check it every year to see what needs replacing. Also make sure it has some basic OTC meds like pain relievers. Buy good flashlights. And don’t forget the batteries. They also make super cool hand-crank flashlights, and my personal favorite are these flashlights that have a charging cradle. You plug them in and they double as a nightlight… and when the power goes out they turn on so you can see to find them. And before you ask, no your cellphone does not count as a flashlight, save to use it to get to your real flashlight. You’ll want to save the charge on your phone for later. Remember that the assumption here is that the power might be out for awhile… possibly more than a day. You will need a real flashlight. More than one preferably. I have one in my kitchen, garage, and my bedside table. Make sure when you get them that you take them out of the plastic prisons so you’re not fumbling with scissors in the dark. Also, it’s not the worst idea to get an electric lantern or two. They can live in your car until you really need them. Test your generators and service them if needed. This is pretty self explanatory. Stockpile prescription meds. If you’re on meds that will be a Bad Time ™ if you go off them, make sure you keep a bit of a stockpile. If you’re on a controlled substance or just generally have issues with this, contact your doctor or pharmacist for assistance/information. This is just good life safety again, but you do not want to get stuck behind washed out roads with no power AND no meds. *** Okay… so you have your stuff. You know your plan and you can find your house on a map. And you hear there’s severe weather coming in a few days. Now what? Well, there’s no reason to go crazy. Odds are good everything will be fine. So to keep myself from going overboard, all my prep goes through two gates: What will I kick myself for not doing if the worst happens? What will I kick myself for doing and not needing it? That tends to keep the desire to over-prepare at bay. Check your annual checks again. Ensure they’re all working and you have back up batteries for your radio, flashlight, etc. Also, make sure all these things are where you can find them in the dark. Bear in mind as you’re prepping that you might be without power and/or internet for awhile… as in days. Get the following items and make sure you can find them in the dark: -Pocket knife/multi-tool. -Rain jacket, -Sturdy, closed toe, shoes and good socks (water proof/resistent if you have them. You might need to pick your way out of your house through debris so pretend you’re going to a construction site). -A bike or construction helmet (put it in your safe place). -Sturdy clothes… like some good jeans, longsleeve shirt etc. Again, pretend you’re going to a construction site. -A good backpack/duffle/small suitcase (no need to pack a bag every time it thunders but just be able to lay a hand on what you’d need if you have to pack in the dark). -An umbrella. -A little cash. (No need to go crazy, but if power, cell service, and internet go down, we’re back to the stone ages… so get enough to grab some groceries and maybe a tank of gas). -Pet carriers if you have animals, and food for them. (In case you need to evacuate) -Candles and ignition sources. (don’t have this be your only light source, but they’re not a bad idea for prolonged outages)

Get gas. Gas up any cars you have the day before severe weather is due to hit. If you have a generator, get gas for it. No need to go hoarding, but you will want a full tank of gas just in case. Best case scenario, nothing happens and future you has one less thing to worry about in the morning on your way to work. Worst case scenario… Future you has one less thing to worry about in a crisis. (We learned this lesson in the 2011 outbreak in Alabama… The power was out for over a week and we had less than half a tank in both our cars and were not sure we could make it to a place with power that also had gas so we were stuck.)

Check your prescription medication stock. Make sure you’d be good for at least a week if the power goes out or you get stuck behind fallen trees or a washed out road. Do laundry. I’m serious. Make sure you have clean clothes and plenty of towels just in case the power goes out and you can’t do laundry for awhile. (also a lesson personally learned in 2011) Charge all your devices. Cellphones, tablets, laptops, power banks and external batteries for your cellphones, and such. Anything like that. Find all your cables and have them in easy reach. Again… future you will thank you for this regardless of if you get blown to Oz. Make sure you have weather apps and alert systems installed on your phone and check for updates. If it’s supposed to storm overnight, turn the ringer on your phone on. Don’t just trust the sirens to warn you. (we learned that lesson a couple of years ago… a software glitch lead to the sirens not going off). Make sure you can lay hands on things you don’t need power to do. If the power goes out for a really long time it can make you a little stir-crazy, so stash some playing cards, a crochet project, a book or anything like that with your emergency supplies. Your bored future self will thank you. I read a lot of books in the week we were without power in 2011 and I taught my husband to play Egyptian Rat Screw. 

If you have a propane grill, make sure you have a fresh/extra tank on hand. If you lose power for a long time, you might want to have a cookout to work through anything perishable in your freezer. Make sure you have food on hand that doesn’t require cooking. Granola/protein bars, canned goods, peanut butter, that sort of thing. Also, keep drinking water on hand, just in case. Just a case in the pantry will do. And don’t just feed yourself! Make sure you have food and supplies for any pets you might have. Again… don’t stockpile or go crazy. Just make sure if the power goes out for a couple of days, you’re covered on food… stuff you’d eat anyway. Make sure you can find weather info quickly and from multiple sources. Tune your radio, weather radio, and TV to your local weather station of choice. Bookmark a good local weather source in your web browser and on your phone. *** So you’re all prepped. But now your weather radio is going ballistic! THERE’S A TORNADO WATCH! WAT DO???

Stay calm. Seriously, it’s probably fine and you aren’t going to change the trajectory of the storm by stressing about it. If where you are is not safe (such as a mobile home or you’re out driving) go to the tornado shelter. Do this before the sirens go off or the take cover order is given. You don’t want to be caught driving. Take a change of clothes, your first aid kit, a flashlight, your phone charger, your phone, ID and money, and something to do that won’t drain your cellphone battery. Stay glued to your local weather news. Use everything that’s working… TV, website, and radio. Watch the trajectory and heed any advice from the local weather-people and the National Weather Service. You’re watching for things close to you now. Often the weather people tracking the storms will draw a cone out from areas of concern (not just tornadoes but things like hail as well) and those cones will mark neighborhoods, major landmarks etc. and give ETAs for all those places. This is where all your map reading skills will come in handy. They said to take cover! The sirens are going off! So that means you need to go to your safe spot we mentioned before. Stay calm and get moving. Turn up the TV/computer so you can hear the weather from your safe spot. Bring your pets and family. Bring your flashlight. Bring your first aid kit. Bring your phone and charger. Bring your weather radio. Grab all your pillows or a fluffy duvet to hide under. Put on your helmet if you have one. (This is to help prevent injury from falling debris or broken glass.) And bring something to do. You might be here for a hot minute. Stay in your safe spot until the all clear is given. Be patient. These storms move fast usually, but tornadoes can spin up on the front and backside of a line of storms. Sit tight and wait for the all clear. WHAT IF I’M DRIVING!? If you’re driving and a tornado warning is given for the area, or God forbid you SEE a funnel cloud, stay calm. If there’s a house or building nearby, go bang on the door and beg them to let you inside. I’m serious. If there’s no buildings, go lay flat in a ditch. I’m still serious. Get as low to the ground as you can and cover your head and face with your jacket. You absolutely do not want to be in a car when there’s tornadoes about. They will toss you around like a tin can. Edited to add: Do NOT get under an overpass. This was common wisdom (even I was told this and originally had it in the post) but according to the National Weather Service and FEMA this is not the case. It seems like a good idea because it's a sturdy shelter, but it acts like a wind tunnel. Thank you to @medic-kix for the catch.

*** Aaaannnd that’s that! I’m sure I missed something so feel free to tack on if you’ve got any further advice. Everyone be safe and stay weather aware!

[explorersaremadeofhope]

Ahem! So for the Fan Fic Writer Asks: 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, 17 (hehehehe), 25, 26 (hahaha), 27 and 29! 😇

[guy grabbing startled cat meme] YOU!

okay, fiiiiiine (thank you 😂💖)

2. Do you read/reread your own fics? honestly, not that much? it depends a little on how i feel about them. if i'm satisfied with them, i might. but often rereading my own stuff makes me realise there's a bunch of small stuff i would like to change with hindsight, so it's easier not to. 😂

3. What's your favorite fic that you've written? damn. i guess it might be some of my earliest terror stuff, anchor up to me or and stay awhile. personally i don't really... have favourites very much, i see good bits and flawed bits in everything, but those were fun to write and people were extremely kind about them when i posted them, so that was a lot of fun overall!

5. What's a fic idea you've had that you will never write? so many. most of them, probably. that said i don't like to fully give up on an idea! but i have several fitzier gdocs sitting around that'll never go anywhere, including: half-epistolary modern au where jfj sends postcards to francis from around the world (initially to annoy him) over years while francis dates, gets engaged to, then splits up with sophia, and james globetrots to avoid his own loneliness, until they gradually become friends and then get together

rest of these under a cut, god damn

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? not really, i think. or if so, only positively. i've gotten some super lovely comments on some of my fics, and i never really expect that, so it's always a happy surprise. and a couple of them have got podfic, which is also absolutely wild to me.

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP/s? sorry, no! i have a shittonne of character playlists, but i don't tend to make playlists for fics!

17. - already answered!

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing? actually, no! i don't think that's ever happened. but i don't tend to write very heavy angst either.

26. Is there something you've written that you would never want your family to see? i mean.. most of it? don't get me wrong, my mum is great and knows that i've written fanfiction since i was a teenager, but the idea of showing anyone in my family my writing is embarrassing as hell lmao, that shit's private

29. Share a bit from a fic you'll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. rip, there are so many to choose from. here's some disembodied angst of james ross missing his boyfriend!

---

he steps outside and tilts his face up into the chill breeze. the night is clear, the air sharp with a late january cold snap. overhead, millions of pinheads of light flicker and twinkle against the black, occasionally winking out of existence as a cloud drifts across the heavens, carried by winds far stronger than the gentle stirring of air which cools his cheeks. the grounds are quiet, deep and dark and still in the early evening. a dusting of snow covers everything. it is new, and as yet unbroken by any human tread, reflecting the light of the moon like a fresh sheet of paper. against it the leafless trees and the shadows cast by the light streaming from the windows behind him are black as pitch. 

his hands soon begin to ache – he has not brought his gloves. he puts them into his pockets. it is not terribly cold – when he glanced at it, the thermometer which he has had mounted beside the window read 23 degrees. unusual for england, certainly, but not true cold. nothing to speak of, really. his feet begin to go numb in his shoes, but it is not too bad; not yet. 

idly, he picks out orion, then auriga, following it down into taurus. canis major, half hidden by a tree, is yet easy, sirius clear as a beacon. turning toward the north, there is ursa major, then the northern cross – cassiopeia takes him a few moments, but he finds it at last, almost directly overhead. 

are we looking at the same stars? 

they’ll be up all night and all day, now, these same constellations; circling tirelessly about the central axis, never dipping from sight.

“i say, what on earth are you doing out here?” 

[animeyanderelover]

Request: Can I have Prompt 17 with Olivier Armstrong?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, extremely strict behavior, s/o low-key being a bit traumatized

Prompt 17

"It's freezing out here, I feel like I'm about to die! Please show at least some mercy and let me go back inside!"

Ah, that somehow sounded familiar to you. This man, who had wrapped both of his hands around his trembling body and tried his best to protect himself from the ferocious snow storm going on outside reminded you of someone. He had been forced to remove the icicles outside as a punishment from you as you had caught him slacking off during work. One could argue that forcing him outside during minus temperatures that could kill a living being was a bit too harsh and once upon a time, you would have just let someone like that off with a simple warning.

Unfortunately it was years too late for that already and Fort Briggs didn't work on the merciful principle. This wall here, protecting the northern border of Amestris from the land of Drachma, functioned differently. It was survival of the strongest out here and you yourself had to learn that the hard way. To survive here, you had been forced to sacrifice something from your heart.

You watched with unreadable eyes how the newbie was slowly walking back inside, leaving all the tools given to him to remove the icicles that could easily kill someone behind him.

How dare he? You had been kind enough to provide him with tools that would have made this all easier. You hadn't been given anything at all back then.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Your tone almost matched the icy wind hitting both of you relentlessly and caused the newbie to freeze, turning around to you.

"I-Inside. You can't expect me to continue-"

You drew your sword in the blink of an eye and had thrusted it in his direction before he had even the chance to react. A long cut on his cheek started bleeding instantly and he stiffened up instantly, staring at you with wide eyes.

"You're only leaving when I give you permission to do so, soldier."

A cold fire was in your eyes, one that had the man who was taller than you shrink in front of you, staring at you with fearful eyes.

You removed your blade and pointed it to one of the icicles hanging from the roof.

"Watch."

All you needed were a few precise thrusts with your sword to break the solid ice and one final hit to shatter it into pieces, the remainders falling down the wall. You caught one in your hand, the coldness radiating from it not even making you flinch as you threw it at the feet of the soldier who had sunken down in shock, wiping away the blood from his cheek.

"That's how you're supposed to do it. If I can do it with my sword, why can't you do it with what I've given you? If you don't stop your whining, I'll make you do it with only your hands."

He stared at the chunk of ice laying at his feet before he tilted his heads upwards to face your own arctic gaze who stared down at his pitiful form.

"What kind of inhumane woman are you? Do you want me to die here?"

His voice was quiet, oh so quiet, as he mumbled out those words, the bottom lip of his quivering. Something deep inside of your core struck you, repulsing you as you stared at the reflection of your past.

Weak. He was so weak.

"Say, soldier, have you ever killed someone?"

"What sort of question-"

"Answer!"

He flinched when you raised your voice at him.

"N-no."

"Have you ever seen someone dying?"

"No."

"Have you ever seen what a frozen corpse look like?"

"No."

"Have you ever been forced to spend the night outside because a terrible blizzard caught you by surprise and do you think you would survive that?"

"No."

The moment he had answered your last question, you couldn't hold it back anymore. Your fist connected with his fist before you could have held back, blood dripping out of his nose and the impact of your punch throwing him back.

"Then what are you doing here?! You think that this is a snowball party here? Fort Briggs protects this border from the people from Drachma. When they try to attack, we fire back and we kill them. We use cannons on humans and we blow them away, we rob them of their live even though they might also have families and friends. Those who aren't dead suffer from excruciating pain and in the end freeze to death outside the wall. Some of our own soldiers have succumbed to those temperatures too and do you know what all of them had in common?"

He had pressed himself against the fense, the only thing that separated him from falling down and was trembling like a bunny that had been trapped by it's predator. Half of his face was swollen and had turned red, in a few hours it would shine in the brightest colors of purple and blue.

"All of them were like you. Cowards and crybabies. So get your act together, soldier or you will really die in this place."

"(l/n)."

"What?", you snapped back and turned around, spotting Buccaneer.

Differently from the soldier cowering on the edge, the experienced soldier didn't even flinch when you glared at him with fire in your eyes.

"Major General Armstrong has requested for your presence in her office. You are to go there immediately."

He threw one glance behind you and let out a boisterous laugh.

“Chewing out the newcomers again, are you? Well, just leave this one to me for now and go.”

You spared the soldier behind you a mere quick glance before you gave Buccaneer a stern nod and left with quick steps.

On your way to the office of the major general, you met a few soldiers who greeted you politely and you acknowledged them with a quick nod.

Knocking a few times on the door, waiting a few seconds and if she didn’t give you any answer, you could enter. The first thing you did was salute as soon as you saw her sitting on her desk, a letter in her hand which she had been reading until you had made your presence known.

“General Armstrong, (y/n) (l/n) here to report. You called for me?”

Formal. This was far too formal considering that you were more or less her lover but Olivier was stern to not give you any advantages or let you be casual with her simply because you were her love. As long as you two were working, she would treat you just like every other soldier and you had to treat her like the major general she was.

“(y/n), take a seat.” Armstrong told you, gesturing to the empty seat in front of her. You bowed your head before sitting down, finally catching a glimpse of the letter she had been reading. It was the letter the East military had sent her a while ago, announcing the stationing of 3 new soldiers in Fort Briggs.

“I’ve left you in charge of the new soldiers and I’d like to hear your opinion on them so far.”

“Two of them have been holding out better than I have initially expected. They work hard and diligent and have shown a good adaptation to the cold. However, (f/n) (l/n) is…may I speak frankly?”

“You may.”

“He’s an utter disappointment and not cut out to work under you. He’s lazy, a coward and too soft for his own good. He’s never killed before in his life and the temperature outside will sooner or later be the end of him. He’s weak, General Armstrong. He won’t make it without breaking.”

“Are you suggesting to send him back?”

“Yes. Otherwise he won’t make it.”

Both of you had kept eye contact throughout the entire dialogue, those blue and strict eyes still terrified you even after all those years.

“Is this your judgement based on your objective opinion or based on your sympathy? I remember that I had a similar soldier like that a few years ago and all she needed was some tough training to turn into a respected and dutiful soldier.”

With all respect, General, you have to send him back. I’ve had enough newcomers dying on me. It’s no use letting them die if they can achieve something in the East military. I’m not overly fond of letting someone die if their death doesn’t contribute to anything. His death wouldn’t have any meaning besides the one that he’s weak.”

You couldn’t look away now, if you would do as much as blink now, she might decline you your request. Olivier was even more terrifying than you were. If she had been the one who had trained the newcomer, he would have been dead already.

“I trust your judgement then. I’ll have him sent back in a few weeks. Make sure that until then he’s still alive.” she finally answered leaning back with only a slight flash of satisfaction in her eyes when seeing your tougher and more serious exterior. You had come a long way under her training.

“Will do. Thank you very much, General.” you replied, standing up when she dismissed you with a wave of her hand.

“You’ve been such a good girl lately. If you continue to behave so well, I might just reward you. Would you like that?”

For just a short time your indifferent mask cracked for a moment, showcasing your surprise when you heard her words but you quickly caught your composure again.

“You flatter me, General.” you muttered out, bowing one last time to her before excusing yourself. You had a lot of work to do after all and knew that Olivier had high expectations. First of all you had to retrieve your newcomer though, Buccaneer was plenty tough himself so he probably hadn’t gotten any rest at all.

A reward, huh? Truthfully spoken, you didn’t long for anything anymore. This was your life now and you couldn’t go back to the more innocent and pure person you used to be and the life you had led once upon a time as a simple soldier. You had forgotten.

—-

“Stand up.”

You shook your head, frozen tears clinging to your cheeks as you kneeled in the deep snow. The weather was as unforgiving and harsh as the woman in front of you, the wind blowing her hair around her in an almost majestic way. Your lips and your fingertips were blue, the sharp pain of the coldness entering your ears and stabbing your brain. “(l/n), do you want to live?”

What sort of question was that? Of course you wanted to live! Who had the desire to freeze to death outside? You could only nod, your teeth clacking against each other as you dared to look up into those relentless eyes of hers. She truly was a Ice Queen. “Then stop groveling on the ground and stand up. Remember this, no one will save you out here. So you either die weak or survive and get stronger. Those are the only two options you have.”

The fear of seeing her leave without consideration of you forced you on your feet again and wobbling behind her. You’d be screwed if you would lose her in this storm. “I-I don’t understand. Why are you so fixated on me?” you cried out as you did your best to stumble behind her, your organs feeling like they were shutting down due to the cold.

General Armstrong didn’t turn around nor did she stop, she just kept on going. You hadn’t really expected an answer from her though and so you were unable to do more than try to keep up with her and survive. Only to be put through the same hell the next day.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

LoVM Vaxleth

"Let yourself cry, I'm here now. You're safe."

I'd say it's Vax being told this.

19. "Let yourself cry, I'm here now. You're safe." tbh i couldn't think of a context in which keyleth would say this to vax (at least in something we've seen so far) so i'm flipping it.

Their first night back in Emon, Vax can't sleep. Nothing about what happened in Whitestone is sitting right with him, except, he supposes, killing the Briarwoods and saving Percy's sister. Still, he feels like he can't get the stench of the ziggurat off of him, and when he closes his eyes, he swears he can hear Sylas Briarwood's voice in his ear, whispering all kinds of terrible things he should be doing to his friends.

So instead of sleeping, he walks the wall of their keep, a different kind of ghost. The stone is blue-black in the moonlight, and the shadows stretch out long, which has never unsettled him before now. He wanders until he finds himself outside, where the grass has already begun to glimmer with dew, and much to his surprise, he is not alone. Sitting up against the trunk of one of the trees in the front courtyard of the keep, Keyleth has her knees tucked up against her chest, her long nightgown pulled around them. Her chin rests atop her knees as she gazes out over the northern wall.

Vax doesn't know what to do. Clearly she's out here alone for a reason, and he doesn't want to disturb her, but he also knows that she's the early-to-bed-early-to-rise type, so her being awake at this hour is definitely strange. He approaches slowly, and as is his wont, very quietly, so when he's only a few feet away, his quiet "Keyleth?" makes her jump half out of her skin.

"Sorry," he murmurs, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine." She puts her chin back on her knees. "Just wasn't expecting company."

"Is the company...welcome?"

She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Sure."

He settles about a foot away from her, cross-legged with his back against the tree. "So...what's got you up so late?"

A shrug. "Couldn't sleep."

He's not used to having to pull information from her. "Any particular reason?" She doesn't answer, but her eyes fall down to the ground. Vax continues, "I couldn't sleep either. We saw a lot of fucked-up shit in Whitestone."

"Yeah," she sighs, "we did."

"You know, as scary as the zombies and the animated suits of armor and the mind control and the Briarwoods were...the thing that scared me the most was the thought that you weren't going to make it out of there."

For a long minute, all Vax hears is the low whistle of wind through the trees and the distant trilling of crickets. The quiet of night is broken, then, by a small sniffle, and Vax looks over to see Keyleth's eyes rimmed with red. "Kiki?"

"I was so scared." Her voice is tremulous, little more than a whisper. "I thought I was going to die, and my dad was never gonna know what happened to me."

Vax's heart sinks in his chest. "Keyleth..."

"And if I died and the rest of you couldn't get out, it was gonna be my fault, and I was just so scared—"

"C'mere." Vax stretches his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. She buries her face into his chest as sobs wrack her body, her limbs shaking with the force of them. "Let yourself cry. I'm here now. You're safe."

And she does cry, and while he holds her, he tries to imagine how terrifying that must of have been, to be so close to death's door. He's no stranger to death, has been accused of courting it more than once in his life, but he's never felt his own life slipping away like a low tide before. It's honestly impressive that she's as collected as she is.

"I never said thank you, you know."

She pulls back and looks at him, wiping at her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You saved my sister's life, Keyleth. Came this close to giving your own for it. That...that's everything to me."

The tips of her ears tinge pink. "Oh. That was...I just...I don't know. I didn't think about it. I'm glad I didn't. I think if I had, I wouldn't have done it, and Vex could have been the one who..." She lets the sentence go unfinished.

"You did it because you're a fucking hero, Keyleth. I don't ever want you to forget that, okay? None of the rest of us will, so you better not either."

And finally, she gives him a real smile. "I won't. I promise."

"Good." He stands and offers his hand down to her. "Come on. Hot tea and then bed?"

"Yeah, okay." She lets him help her to her feet, and together they walk back into the castle, and for some reason, the shadows don't seem to stretch quite as far as they did before.

[merlinnski]

Bloodstained Snow

Moshang fic - 3.7k words Hurt/comfort, mild blood & injury, angst with a happy ending

This fic has been cross-posted to AO3 if you would prefer to read/support it there!

---

The winters within the Northern Desert were harsh. 

The winds always howled, soft snowflakes were more akin to small shards of ice against bare skin, and the sky was pitch black more often than the soft hues of blue during the day. The climate was far more unforgiving, yet the ice demons of the Northern Desert were completely unfazed. This was hardly a change to them. 

To Shang Qinghua, it was unpleasant. 

The innumerable stacks of papers on his desk seemed more daunting than usual, a flood of obstacles he no longer had the energy to tackle. Despite the warm furs wrapped tightly around him he shivered near constantly. There was only so much Mobei Jun could do to help him during the difficult winters he still had yet to grow accustomed to. Thus leading him to his current predicament. 

He was shut away in his chambers, burrowed underneath multiple layers of warm, thick blankets that he’s hoarded. His hair was untied, the clothes he wore were unruly. The usual bags under his eyes seemed darker than usual. To put it frankly–he looked like a mess. Shang Qinghua felt like doing nothing.

He knew he had to get up and work, he just couldn’t get himself to. 

There was a soft knock at the door. He groaned, pushing his blanket burrow off of him slightly to sit up properly. He waited in silence for a moment until another knock came. If it was who he thought it was, it was an incredibly bad time. 

“Who is it?” He asked, loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. He hoped the response was from anyone but the person he thought it was. 

“It’s me,” A familiar gruff voice responded, muffled by the door. 

Shang Qinghua wanted to hide back under his blankets and act like he didn’t exist. 

“One minute, My King!” He tossed the blankets off of him quickly and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over himself in the process. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tying it back hastily. It was a messy bun, but still better than simply leaving it down. He then rushed to the door, swinging it open swiftly to be greeted face-to-face with Mobei Jun. The demon was looking down at him with a quirked eyebrow, scrutinizing his appearance. “Sorry for taking so long, did you need something?” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“Is Qinghua not feeling well?” Mobei Jun asked instead, a mildly concerned look on his face. 

“Huh..?” Shang Qinghua looked dumbfounded for a moment before hastily shaking his head. “Oh! No, no no, I’m perfectly fine, My King. Nothing to worry about.” Mobei Jun narrowed his eyes, though it seemed he decided against rebutting. “If you insist.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a mercy that Mobei Jun decided not to pry. 

“I was wondering if you would like to go for a walk with me,” The demon said after a moment of silence, keeping his expression neutral. 

“A walk? Where?” That caught Shang Qinghua off guard. Mobei Jun rarely asked for him to do much during the past winters they’ve spent together, what could have changed? “There’s a demon clan in the mountains that’s been causing trouble. I mean to scope it out and decide the next course of action,” He explained, lowering his gaze slightly. “This king wondered if you would like to come and get some fresh air.”

‘You look like you could use it’ was left unsaid between them. There was no mistaking that look on Mobei Jun’s face. He wanted him to come along regardless of his answer. Shang Qinghua sighed, the corners of his lips turning upwards slightly into a tired smile. 

“Alright, My King. I’ll come along. When are we expected to leave?” He was already creating a mental checklist in his head of things he needed to prepare before setting off. A set of extremely warm clothes included.

“As soon as Qinghua is ready.” Was all Mobei Jun had supplied as an answer, crossing his arms against his chest. 

That was not helpful in the slightest, he thought to himself dully. 

“Um… Is a blizzard still going on outside? It’s not dark out, is it?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his hands in the process.

He really didn’t want to suffer hypothermia mid-walk. Not even the expensive–and quite heavy–fur cloak Mobei Jun gifted him would save him from the below freezing temperatures of a winter storm. 

“The winds have calmed down. It should be safe for travel,” He supplied, which was enough of an answer for Qinghua. 

“...Okay. Just give me a moment, My King. I’ll be right out.” Shang Qinghua lightly closed the door, scanning the room for his dresser.

He changed quickly into something warmer, an outfit that was selected specifically for him by Mobei Jun a few years ago. It was light blue in color and a soft fabric that he particularly enjoyed. Qinghua then quickly untied his hair, running a brush through it to make himself look slightly more presentable. Once he was satisfied, he nodded to himself.

He still looked paler than usual, like an absolute mess, but at least he looked better than before. That was enough.

He slid the heavy cloak over his shoulders, the fur-lined collar tickling his cheek lightly. He opened the door again, greeted with the sight of Mobei Jun leaning against the wall. At the sight of him, he stood up straight, tilting his head inquisitively. “Ready to go?” He asked, maintaining his cool demeanor. 

A few demon servants passed by in the halls behind him, carrying a variety of different trays and papers with them. Seemed like they were busier than usual. “I’m ready,” Shang Qinghua confirmed, exiting his room quietly. 

Mobei Jun took off in long strides towards one end of the corridor, keeping his speed slow enough to allow Qinghua to keep up behind him. He stayed as close to the ice king as possible, keeping his head down.

He could only mentally prepare himself for the cold journey ahead of them.

—

‘Safe for travel’ my ass, Shang Qinghua thought bitterly, shivering aggressively underneath the thick layers of warm fabric he wore. 

The snowflakes that littered the sky were blown into his face and onto his hair, melting on contact and chilling what little skin he left uncovered. They felt like small shards of ice stabbing into him, mildly painful but still barely tolerable. Though the moon had yet to rise, the darkened clouds that covered the demon realm’s sun left little light for them. You could almost mistake the day for night with how hardly visible the world around him seemed to be. 

Mobei Jun was a few steps ahead of him, maintaining the same slow pace he had earlier. Shang Qinghua was hardly keeping up as it was, his legs knee-deep in the powdered snow beneath them. It hardly seemed to faze the ice demon, however, given that he moved around as if it were nothing more than a mere inconvenience in his way. 

One trip up, and Qinghua believes he may end up buried underneath the snow and unable to get himself out without falling over again. Remind him again why he designed such an unforgiving land? 

“My King, how much longer until we’re at the tribe?” He raised his voice loud enough for Mobei Jun to hear him, trudging through the deep snow in a hurry to keep up. 

Mobei Jun paused to look over his shoulder, his brows furrowed. “Not too far from here. Is Qinghua cold?” 

Cold is an understatement! I’m freezing my balls off! Shang Qinghua forced a small smile. That–and his rapid shivering–was enough of a hint for Mobei Jun to reach over and take his hand. 

The minute Mobei Jun’s hand came in contact with his, a feeling of warmth flooded through him. His eyes widened subconsciously at the feeling, realization dawning upon him. He lowered his head, sighing a breath of relief. The shivering was slow to cease, but it eventually faded away into a light tremble. “Thank you,” Shang Qinghua said quietly.

They began walking through the snow again, this time hand-in-hand. Every time Qinghua was close to tripping over himself, Mobei Jun was there to keep him upright. It was a bizarre feeling, being given so much care. 

With how many years they’ve been together, he should’ve been used to the attention by now.

“You should have said something sooner,” Mobei Jun reprimanded lightly, tightening his hold on Qinghua’s hand. “I would have helped.”

“I didn’t want to inconvenience you.” Shang Qinghua frowned.

“Inconvenience me? Qinghua, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask if you need something.” Mobei Jun paused again to turn and look at him, his usual stoic expression changed into something… Soft. Concerned. 

Shang Qinghua lowered his head, biting his chapped lip hard. “I’m just… Not used to it. That’s all. I’m usually the one pushed to help others, not the other way around.”

“I’ll help you get used to it. Qinghua deserves to be helped as much as he helps others,” Mobei Jun said with determination, turning away to continue his trudge forward.

Qinghua could only stare at the back of Mobei Jun’s fur-lined cloak in shock. How had he become so lucky? Was this a cruel joke the system was playing on him after who knows how long of silence? He almost fell forward as his arm was tugged by Mobei Jun–a sign that he should keep moving forward. He was standing still for far too long. 

He rushed forward, his mind running a mile a minute. There was so much he wanted to blurt out, to fill the silence between them with his mindless ranting. Yet the minute he opened his mouth to speak, nothing escaped his lips. He truly was rendered completely speechless. 

The ice demon’s actions shouldn’t be a surprise to him. Through the dense fog of his self-loathing, he knew that Mobei Jun loved him. This was how he was always treated since the day he was confessed to. Nothing has changed. 

Perhaps the loneliness of his room during the dark winter truly affected him more than he thought. 

After a while of walking, the mountains that dotted the horizon seemed far closer and bigger than before. Shang Qinghua could hardly feel his legs after all the walking, exhaustion weighing his body down significantly. He groaned, tugging Mobei Jun’s hand lightly to get him to stop.

“My King, can’t we take a small break?” He asked, his expression as tired as he felt.

“If we stay out for too long, we won’t make it back before the night settles in,” Mobei Jun explained with as much of an apologetic look as he could put out.

Shang Qinghua shook his head in dismay, a frustrated look in his eye. “The last time I walked this much was when I had to go up and down Qing Jing peak repeatedly. It was miserable.” 

Mobei Jun seemed to tense, narrowing his eyes. “Qinghua.” 

“Like, I know it’s healthy and all to exercise like that, but come on. Isn’t it some odd torture tactic for someone like me who sits around all day filing paperwork?” He rambled on, dropping all sense of formalities near instantly.

“Qinghua,” Mobei Jun tried again, his stance growing more tense by the second.

“And I know My King had good intentions, but can’t we please just take one of your portals? Surely that would be so much faster and less time consuming-” He didn’t have a chance to finish. 

“Qinghua!” He was quickly pulled aside, his balance lost as he tumbled into Mobei Jun’s chest.

A sharp shard of crimson ice was deeply embedded into the snow they were standing at just a second ago. Shang Qinghua felt his blood run cold. “We’ve been followed,” Mobei Jun hissed, pulling Shang Qinghua behind him. 

Shang Qinghua squinted, looking out into the distance in front of them. A group of around five figures were blurred by the snowfall, yet their silhouettes were distinguishable. A bead of cold sweat slid down Shang Qinghua’s forehead, a nervousness setting in. Mobei Jun could handle them for sure, but that last attack was a little too close for comfort. 

They flung a few more ice shards their way, prompting them to keep dodging each strike. It was difficult to move fluidly with how sluggish he felt after their long walk, but not impossible. 

“Qinghua, I’m going to take care of them. I need you to stay here. Don’t move. Understand?” Mobei Jun kept his sharp gaze trained on the enemies, not giving Shang Qinghua a second glance. 

“I understand. Please, stay safe.” He watched with helplessness as Mobei Jun pulled his hand away, leaving him to the freezing cold once again. 

He almost immediately began shivering, his arms wrapped around himself subconsciously as he watched the fight before him go down. 

Mobei Jun had summoned his sword, a murderous glint in his eye. It was a five versus one, but something seemed off to Qinghua.

Four of them seemed to focus on keeping Mobei Jun distracted with innumerable quick attacks, the clashing of their blades slicing the former stillness of the air. The fifth, however, was undetected. 

He was sneaking behind Mobei Jun, preparing a strong attack that had Qinghua up and running towards the middle of the fight. He couldn’t let that happen. 

If Mobei Jun got struck by that… The fight would be over. 

“My King! You need to move!” He weaved between the enemy and rammed into Mobei Jun, shoving him to the ground just in time to avoid the sneak attack. 

A sharp pain coursed through his side, forcing him to see stars for a good moment. He winced, peeling himself up and off of Mobei Jun to get a better look at him. He didn’t dare look at where he was injured out of fear of what he’d see. Splotches of red stained the blue of Mobei Jun’s robes where he had just been. That was enough.

“Qinghua-” Mobei Jun was swiftly interrupted. 

“Let me help you. I can fight too.” He murmured, standing up properly.

The enemies that surrounded them seemed to have been dumbfounded by Shang Qinghua’s sudden intrusion. The minute he stood back up, they were already prepared for another attack against them. 

He drew his blade, getting into stance. The adrenaline he felt at the moment kept him from feeling the brunt of the pain his injury gave. Mobei Jun slowly got back up behind him, bracing himself a second time for another fight. 

With their teamwork, the five demons that came after them were dead within minutes. Their blood stained the white snow red, a gruesome sight for anyone who wasn’t used to the violence Mobei Jun often exuded.

Shang Qinghua dropped his sword into the snow, his breaths heavy. The adrenaline was wearing off, black spots invading his vision. Mobei Jun turned to look at him, a slight smile on his face. 

“Qinghua, I had no idea you were so resilient,” He praised, walking closer to the smaller man. 

Shang Qinghua almost didn’t hear him. …Have I just been wife plotted in my own novel?

“Is it… Is it over?” He spoke softly, his body swaying. A light breeze could knock him over. 

“Qinghua?” Mobei Jun paused, his eyes narrowed quickly as he scanned his appearance. 

He couldn’t hang on. His knees gave out, his body plummeting to the ground as quickly as his consciousness faded. Mobei Jun rushed forward to grab him before he could fall into the piles of bloodstained snow beneath them. 

“Qinghua!”

—

The first thing he felt upon slipping back into consciousness was pain. 

His waist was killing him, a constant throb that distracted his thoughts every chance it could get. It was hard to think with the pain fogging his mind. The most Shang Qinghua could tell was that he was no longer out in the wilds of the Northern Desert. There weren't any howling winds to freeze him to the bone, nor were there snowflakes dampening his face. 

He was actually warm.

He could feel the weight of a blanket covering his body and a firm mattress beneath him. Fire crackled in the distance, keeping the room he was kept in a comfortable temperature. Shang Qinghua could almost delude himself into thinking what had happened was just a horrible dream. It all came back to him like being hit by a truck. The walk. The fight. Protecting Mobei Jun. Blacking out. He opened his eyes abruptly, sitting up in a panic and regretting it immediately. He hissed loudly, another stab of pain coursing through his body at the sudden action. Cold hands were pressed down on his shoulders, attempting to push him back into a lying position. 

“Qinghua.” He was greeted with the sight of Mobei Jun, who looked considerably more tired than usual. 

There was a concerned frown on his face, with a hint of fear in his eyes. It was an unusual sight for him. “You shouldn’t move around so abruptly. Your wound might reopen.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Shang Qinghua laid back against the pillows behind him, his voice hoarse. “How long was I out for?”

“A few days.” Mobei Jun lowered his head, sitting back down on a chair that he had pulled up next to the bed. “This Mobei Jun was… Scared.” 

Shang Qinghua nearly choked. What the fuck?! Scared?? Mobei Jun was scared because of me???

“Scared?” He asked softly, tilting his head slightly. “Mobei, there’s no need to be scared.” Mobei Jun’s pointed ears lowered, solidifying the saddened look on his face. “You weren’t waking up after I brought you back and patched your wound. I thought I was going to lose you.” “Oh, My King…” Shang Qinghua inhaled, forcing himself back up into a sitting position. “Come here.” The small action brought more pain upon his weak body, but he forcefully ignored it. He waited patiently for Mobei Jun to get a little closer to him. 

“Qinghua, stop moving,” He admonished lightly, the words dying in his throat as he was pulled into a hug. 

It was by no means a comfortable hug. It was about as comfortable as you could get when one person was sitting in bed while the other was leaned over. But it was exactly the sort of comfort Shang Qinghua knew Mobei Jun needed. He could feel the demon’s muscles relaxing in his hold, his forehead resting on Qinghua’s shoulder. 

“I’m not going anywhere. It’ll take more than that to kill me.” He smiled warmly. “Besides, I really thought I looked pretty bada- I mean cool. I thought I looked pretty cool back there! Did you see how I fought them off with you? I haven’t been able to do that in a while!”

“Yes, Qinghua looked very cool.” Mobei Jun smiled back, pulling himself away from the hug to give Shang Qinghua a moment to rest. “A little reckless, but this Mobei Jun is proud.” 

Shang Qinghua short-circuited. He paused, his eyes widening. Nobody’s ever said they were proud of him before. It was almost enough to bring him straight to tears. “Are you… Are you genuine?” He stammered, his mind running faster than his mouth could handle. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you.” Mobei Jun shook his head, crossing his legs. “I mean it.” “That… I-” He cut himself off, speechless. He fiddled with his hands, unsure of what to do. “I’m happy. I’m happy I could help.” Mobei Jun stood up from his seat, pushing the chair back slightly. He approached the end of the bed and bent down to give Shang Qinghua a gentle kiss to the forehead, closing his eyes in the process. Shang Qinghua could feel his face flush bright red, his heart beating faster. He wanted to hide under the blanket until he could calm himself down again.  

“It’s getting late, you should rest some more.” Mobei Jun stood straight again, the gentle smile tugging his lips upwards. “It should help you heal quicker.”

Woah, woah, wait. He’s just leaving like that? Shang Qinghua felt as perplexed as he looked. 

“Wait, hold on,” He paused, unsure of how to word what he was going to say. How ironic, huh. “Uhh… Would it be okay if I stayed with you? After I recover, I mean.” 

“Stay with me? Aren’t you already living in the Northern Fortress with me?” He raised an eyebrow, confusion written all over Mobei Jun’s expression. “Well, yes, but I mean… Like sharing a room.” He averted his gaze to the wall, embarrassment flaring up. “It’s just a little lonely. That’s all.” 

Silence descended upon them, incredibly uncomfortable. Shang Qinghua tensed, quickly looking back to face Mobei Jun. He flailed his arms around in a panic, ignoring the innumerable spikes of pain that shot through him. 

“But of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to! I’m perfectly fine sleeping alone! Winter is just incredibly dark and depressing and there’s not a whole lot to do besides work and… more work so-”  He was interrupted swiftly, his mouth shutting almost as fast as it opened. 

“Qinghua, you’re perfectly fine to share my room with me. Please, just relax,” Mobei Jun stressed, placing a hand on his shoulder to nudge him back down into the bed. “At this rate I’ll have to call the doctor again to patch you back up.” 

“No need, no need.” Shang Qinghua quickly dismissed the idea. “I’ll rest.”

“Good.” Mobei Jun turned his back to the bed, approaching the door on the other side of the room. “I’ll return in the morning, rest well.” 

“Oh, before you leave!” Shang Qinghua called out, before sharply inhaling. “I love you, Mobei.” He didn’t see the way Mobei Jun’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly composed himself before replying, “I love you too, Qinghua.” 

The door clicked shut, and he was left to his thoughts once again.  What used to feel like a lonely, depressing room no longer felt as lonely as it once did before.