#only fools die in the name of honor

[alliwantislogin-blog]

Is there anything more ridiculous than dying in a duel? You couldn't take an insult so you just... die.

If you die in a duel you are WEAK.

[amazingabellini]

Every Single Thing 621 is Called on Rubicon

Dog Augmented Human C4-621 You 621 Intruder Illegal Enemy AC Merc Corp AC Registration number Rb23 Raven Callsign: Raven Mercenary Corporate Merc Corporate Dog Interloper Military Force Hostile AC Shameless Coral scavenger Independent Mercenary Hunter Sharp A local An Independent A merc who only kills for credits A real merc G13 G13 Raven Kiddo Freelancer Maggot Fake Redgun Tagalong Sewing club member Not a total amateur Not a pro Corporate Vulture Mere pawn Scavenger Hound of Walter Competition Good for nothing Good for something Wretched vulture Unidentified AC Damn Hyena Rotten Money-grubber Corporate scum Enemy backup One of the infamous Walter's hounds Wallclimber War buddies Comrade Buddy Intruder Doser Shameless Corporate Dog Greedy Mercenary Greedy hound Daring A symbol of resolve Only Other Person That Can Keep Up With Me You Again Old Augmentation Recalcitrant Mutt Vermin Pest The Pest of Rubicon Code 15 Raven the Wallclimber Code 31C Solo Independent Mercenary Pitiful Dog Gen 4 Fine hound Another dead dog Older type of Augmented Human Tourist No ordinary tourist Smart Cookie No slouch A cut above the rest Not afraid of anything Belongs in a museum Freak My favorite little Tourist A certain someone New friend The Freelancer from the dam raid Target Walter's Hound Solo AC Independent Merc Trespasser to Rubicon Walking Advertisement Mascot AC of Unknown Affiliation Suspected Corporate Hire Single AC Code 5, Unknown AC Independent Mercenary Assembly That AC Hostile AC Priority Subject for Termination One helluva merc Hired Operative Intruding AC Grunt Famous Mercenary Fine Soldier One Loose End Corpse Quick on the uptake Not like those savages Cur Scoundrel Oathbreaker Just an AC Patchwork AC Better than the other ACs Like a bird in flight Killer Menace to Rubicon Target for Termination Unknown Intruder Intrusion Attempt Menace Volunteer The Objective Just a Gen 4 Strong Worthy of your name False Alarm Impostor Impressive Pilot Wormkiller Threat to Planetary Closure 20 Iguazus A Real Redgun Not so Special Too Dangerous to Keep Around Not Afraid to Die The Only G13 Who's Managed To Live This Long Strong A Threat Dangerous Another Threat to Rubicon Veteran The Mercenary Who Took Your Name Rat Fool The Big One Corporate pawn Rather Extraordinary Gen 4 Augmentation High Level Threat Strong Candidate One of Allmind's The One Rusty was talking about Head in the Clouds Old-Gen Alive Handler's Hound Old Colleague Subject Beast of burden Guest of Honor The Key Smartass Freelancer Wonderful People Demon Miserable Relic Trigger for the Change to come Dog without a shred of intelligence Not worthy of humanity Stray Dog Obstacle Faithful Hound Biggest Threat Legacy Augmentation The Greatest Obstacle The Liberator of Rubicon The only one The Spark of War The Fires that Haunt Rubicon The Monster who Burned the Stars One With Allmind Aberrations to The Plan Trigger for Coral Release Irregular The Old-Gen Who Could Do It All

The Freelancer Who Had It All

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  if we changed back then, we could change again.  ❜ ❛  what can i say? i'm a sucker for happy endings.  ❜ ❛  i'm sorry, are you talking to me?  ❜ ❛  i would give anything to be like that.  ❜ ❛  are we gonna have a problem?  ❜ ❛  you've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?  ❜ ❛  time for you to prove you're not a loser anymore.  ❜ ❛  you can join the team or you can bitch and moan.  ❜ ❛  mr. no-name kid, say who might you be?  ❜ ❛  it's fine if you don't agree, but i would fight for you if you would fight for me.  ❜ ❛  happiness comes when everything numbs.  ❜ ❛  does your mommy know you eat all this crap?  ❜ ❛  i learned to cook pasta, i learned to pay rent; i learned the world doesn't owe you a cent.  ❜ ❛  you heard it man, it's time to rage!  ❜ ❛  so wait, it's lime, then salt, then shot?  ❜ ❛  you're doing it wrong!  ❜ ❛  really? 'cause i feel great.  ❜ ❛  dreams are coming true when people laugh but not at you!  ❜ ❛  i didn't need your help.  ❜ ❛  i can't believe you actually came.  ❜ ❛  why d'you gotta be so weird all the time? people wouldn't hate you so much if you acted normal.  ❜ ❛  thirty hours to live - how shall i spend them?  ❜ ❛  sorry, but i really had to wake you.  ❜ ❛  let's go you know the drill; i'm hot and pissed and on the pill.  ❜ ❛  you say you're numb inside but i can't agree.  ❜ ❛  how'd you find my address?  ❜ ❛  no sleep tonight for you, better chug that mountain dew.  ❜ ❛  no one sees the me inside of me.  ❜ ❛  keep going. this has to be good enough to fool the cops.  ❜ ❛  i never knew about her pain.  ❜ ❛  don't talk mean like that.  ❜ ❛  what did they do to you that you hate them so?  ❜ ❛  you are the only thing that's right about this broken world.  ❜ ❛  they'll die because we say they must.  ❜ ❛  what the fuck have you done?!  ❜ ❛  let's be normal. see bad movies, sneak a beer, and watch tv.  ❜ ❛  don't you want a life with me?  ❜ ❛  if you could let me in, i could be good with you.  ❜ ❛  so what's it gonna be? i wanna be with you.  ❜ ❛  but your love's too good to lose.  ❜ ❛  you're the one i choose.  ❜ ❛  there's nowhere to hide if i say the wrong thing.  ❜ ❛  but i believe any dream worth having is a dream that should not have to end.  ❜ ❛  no, you wouldn't understand!  ❜ ❛  try me! i've experienced everything you're going through right now.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what my world looks like!  ❜ ❛  they made you blind, messed up your mind but i can set you free.  ❜ ❛  i was meant to be yours!  ❜ ❛  don't give up on me now.  ❜ ❛  i can't make this alone! finish what we've begun.  ❜ ❛  i am all that you need.  ❜ ❛  please don't leave me alone. you were all i could trust, i can't do this alone.  ❜ ❛  no one here deserves to die except for me and the monster i created.  ❜ ❛  i wish we met before they convinced you life is war.  ❜ ❛  i wish you'd come with me ...  ❜ ❛  i am damaged, far too damaged, but you're not beyond repair.  ❜ ❛  hope you'll miss me, wish you'd kiss me.  ❜ ❛  i'd be honored if you'd let me be your friend.  ❜

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hiyori Reader and please? She’s Qin Shi Huang, Hades, Hercules and Apollo’s wife and has just as much confidence and authority as an Empress/Queen as well as for being the Daughter of a Shogun, her father Oden, espite that she’s actually a caring, kind and gentle woman with her Husband, the man who won over her heart (As he didn’t see her as an object but instead a person)

Reader is good friends with Aphrodite and loves to play her music for Shiva as he became a fan of her father’s and likes to dance to her music

She and (Love) keep their marriage a secret as they don’t want attention

However when an arrogant god has been abusing others, mainly humans, well as repeatedly tried to hit on her for her beauty and trying to make her marry him, she’s had enough especially when he insulted her father Oden for being a ‘Fool’ and harmed him with a divine tool and after she slapped him

“I’m the Shogun’s Daughter, I am Y/N, when you speak to me, mind your tongue!! Even when I was starving, even when I was dressed in rags, I carried with me the honor that my father brought to our name! You have never been a proper god a day in your life! You’re nothing but a thief! An imposter! You’re a lowly worm and a coward!! And the longer you live your pathetic excuse of a life the more innocent people die!!”

I love how much of a queen Hiyori is and her speech to Orochi gave me CHILLS

-You were a stunning beauty- one that so many in Valhalla admired and worshipped- your stunning beauty and grace was known to rival even Aphrodite’s- who wasn’t bothered, as she was a good friend of yours.

-Your beauty was something natural, your parents blessing you with your mother’s looks, but your father’s heart- as you were a proud woman, always willing to help those who needed it the most.

-That’s another reason so many admired you- for your kind and gentle heart- you were especially popular with the kids, who loved to come and see you, listening to your music or watching you dance.

-You had many friends in Valhalla, not just Aphrodite, many warriors found themselves drawn to you- they could sense you were more powerful than you let on, but you were very careful not to reveal any of your secrets.

-Shiva and Rudra loved to listen to your music, as they would dance, showing you unique dancing that you had never seen, and in exchange you would show them and others in the Hindu Pantheon your own dancing, which was something they had yet to experience, but they loved it.

-While adored and loved by all, but when others would come confessing their love to you- you would tell them that you were already married, and happily so. Many were distraught to learn this, but you never said to who.

-Only a small handful of people knew who you were married to- as you and (Love) kept it quiet, mainly because the two of you didn’t want to deal with the headaches, as he was also highly desired by others in Valhalla.

-The way you carried yourself was a good hint, as you carried yourself like an empress, someone of great power- but that was only part of it- as you were the daughter of a Shogun, and you wouldn’t let anyone forget it.

-You were at a party in the Hindu Pantheon, your husband was there as well, as it was a gathering of humans and gods- the warriors from Ragnarok. Shiva had asked you to play some of your music, which you were happy to do.

-Your angelic smile caught the attention of many as you played, putting your heart and soul into your music, something that (Love) couldn’t help but smile over- you were so passionate.

-When you were done playing for the moment, so you could take a small break and get something to drink, you flashed a small smile towards (Love) who was across the room.

-You then heard a familiar voice, and you groaned softly internally, hearing the voice of Kand, a cocky god who wasn’t taking your rejections with grace- he didn’t believe that you were married, thinking you were just saying that to keep others away, and that you were just shy!

-He quickly approached, asking you, loudly, to marry him again. Everything went silent- seeing the proposal and Shiva sent a worried glance over at (Love), as he was one of the few who knew who you were married to- he was all for brawls- but he didn’t really want one at today’s party.

-Your voice was firm, as were your eyes, “I am not interested.” Your constant rejections were annoying him- he was willing to give you a chance, because you were a human, because you were beautiful- but you were being so stuck up about it!!

-He glared hard, “Get off your high horse Y/N- you’re nobody special so I don’t know why you are walking around here like you own the place- that loser of a father of yours lost his title when he was killed so you can just-”

-The moment he mentioned your father, you saw red and SLAP!!!!

-The slap echoed around the party, stunning everyone into silence again as he was sent spinning before falling to his knees, his ears ringing as you glared harshly down at him, “I am the Shogun’s daughter- I am Y/N! When you speak to me, mind your tongue! Even when I was starving, even when I was dressed in rags, I carried with me the honor that my father brought to our name! You have never been a proper god a day in your life! You’re nothing but a thief! An imposter! You’re a lowly worm and a coward!! And the longer you live your pathetic excuse of a life- the more innocent people die!!”

-Your speech was so passionate that so many were staring at you in awe as he finally managed to stand, furious that you had struck him, “How dare you-”

-He was cut off when you took a step forward, then another, “Don’t like it- then cut me down! I won’t stop when I know I am right- I am a samurai’s daughter. I will not live in disgrace!”

-A hand clapped down on your shoulder, and you turned to see (Love) there, looking quite unlike himself, as he was furious looking, making Kand fold in on himself, before he spoke, “I don’t take kindly to others speaking so rudely to my wife- worm. Get lost.”

-Many were surprised that (Love) outed the two of you as a couple, but you weren’t bothered, you were going to stand by your husband’s decision as the two of you looked like such a power couple together as Kand was quick to rush out of the party.

-Everything was silent for a moment, before loud cheers filled the room, surprising you as Shiva cheered, happy that you two finally announced yourselves publicly.

-You smiled demurely, cupping your cheek as the party got started again.

-He turned to you, taking your hand in his own, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with such a powerful slap, “Are you alright, Y/N?” you just smiled, taking your hand back, not looking at all bothered, “I am- it hurts but I am not bothered.” He smiled softly, seeing your strength as he pecked your forehead softly- he knew that you could handle yourself with ease.

            -Hercules and Hades

-Held your hand softly, massaging it once the two of you were sitting again, “I can’t believe that bastard tried to take you away from me!” you just laughed softly, seeing him jealous as you reached up, cupping his cheek gently, “He would never have me- not while you still live. And even then- I would chose death first before being with such a man.” He beamed at your praise, pecking your cheek softly, making you smile.

            -Qin Shi Huang and Apollo

[ghost-bxrd]

Keep going I want everything *holds up a note pad* give me angst

*slides glasses up higher*

Okay, you asked for it! Get ready for some really cracky ship content on the side of more Court Family au!

Bruce grows up learning high society and Court etiquette mostly from Alfred and some trustworthy Court members and quickly decides that some things need to change. (He may be morally flexible here but he still wants to change things for the better). He still puts up the Brucie mask in front of High Society, but now he does it with the goal to gather blackmail material from as many people as possible and indebt them to him for potential use down the line.

Bruce becomes Voice of the Court when he turns eighteen and immediately starts uprooting several of the more corrupt members of the Court, instating new people into the ranks that will benefit the city as a whole. He makes some enemies this way, naturally. And soon after the Cout’s Talon is tasked with Bruce’s safety at all times.

Bruce and Cobb do NOT get along. At all. Mostly because Bruce is determined to make Talon’s life even harder by trying to slip away from his sight every other second. It’s infuriating. Cobb considers literally sitting on the guy after only one week. (“Try bailing on me now, o’ honorable Voice”)

Bruce spends several months strategically implementing new laws and projects that will benefit the Court AND Gotham in the long run, making it a point to go to the most important meetings in person, even if they happen to be between criminals. (Cobb was so, SO tempted to let Black Mask shoot the idiot that day.)

Within two years human trafficking is close to nonexistent in Gotham City, lethal crime is down a good ten percent (which isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but for Gotham it’s almost biblical) and whispers of “Batman” are omnipresent. (Cobb considers asking if slapping his Voice would be considered treason but… it probably would. Even though Bruce really deserves it with such a stupid cover name. Owls HUNT bats… couldn’t he have chosen Owlman?)

(“What’s your name, anyway?” Bruce asks one day, flipping his tie into a neat Windsor knot that’s just passable enough to not be considered sloppy. “I am the Talon of the Court, my Voice.” Bruce hums, one elegant eyebrow raising in the stark reflection of the mirror, “No, your real name.” “It’s whatever you wish it to be, my Voice.” “You know what I mean, Talon. If you do not wish to answer, then I will not make you. But do not play me for a fool.” “… Cobb. William Cobb.” Bruce blinks, the left corner of his mouth tugging upwards, “Will… I see.”)

The first time a traitor nearly succeeds in killing Bruce is when he once again slips away from the Talon’s sight, and while Bruce is still well trained he’s no match against five people with guns, sedatives, and a mission. Cobb finds them right as they’re about to shoot Bruce in the head and goes absolutely feral. (He hates Bruce, he hates Bruce, he hates Bruce, he hates-)

Bruce wakes up back at the manor with a pissed off Talon standing in the corner of the room, keeping watch and refusing to talk to him anymore beyond what he’s ordered to. Sneaking away from the Talon after this becomes virtually impossible for Bruce.

Cobb keeps giving Bruce the cold shoulder for months to the point where Bruce becomes genuinely concerned, but the Court scientists assure him that their Talon is running at a 100% capacity. (That’s not what I’m asking, Bruce wants to scream. I want to know if he’s okay.)

(Cobb wasn’t worried, he wasn’t. He watched countless humans die in so much worse ways already. Inflicted worse himself. It’s just because he almost failed his mission and allowed the Voice to be killed that he’s so unnerved now. That must be it. That’s all it is. That’s all.)

Dick’s parents fall and Bruce is up and out of his seat the next second, pushing through the masses until he can clutch at the child and cover his eyes, shielding him from the view of his parents’ dead bodies. Social Services never get to put their hands on Dick Grayson.

The Court is ecstatic. Cobb is ecstatic. From tragedy, opportunity blooms like a rose with poisonous thorns, and the Talon stands ready to take on his apprentice as the Court broaches the subject with Bruce.

But Bruce (idiotic, stupid, bleeding-heart Bruce) refuses point blank. (“He’s a child,” Bruce says. Like that means anything. They were all children, once. He’ll grow out of it quickly enough. And the boy will make an excellent Talon, perhaps even surpass Cobb himself, with time and training. Maybe more capable at keeping the Voice safe than him, too. But then Bruce says, “He’s my child. My ward. And any of you who think to go against me will answer to the Talon and myself.” And, oh, damn you, Bruce. Damn you. But what else is Cobb to do but lift his head and stare down the Voice’s subject in silent challenge, daring them to object? Bruce is his Voice. Talon will never not side with the Court’s voice. (He pointedly does not think of the time he slit another Voice’s throat. He does not.))

Dick is anger and fury and sunshine and it drives Cobb crazy. The raw potential that is lost with Bruce’s refusal to allow him to train the boy… he cannot stand it. There will be another Talon before long (Cobb is not bitter about it, he is not) and with Dick the protection of the Voice would have at least stayed within the line of Cobb’s blood, but now… now Cobb can’t be sure the new Talon will take their task as seriously as the boy would have.

Dick is the one to approach Cobb for training before he ever goes to Bruce

Bruce nearly has a heart attack the first time he finds Dick training with the Talon, ripping the boy away and screaming at Cobb for nearly an hour about “orders” and “NOT a Talon” and many other things Dick doesn’t really get

Bruce asks Talon to bring him Zucco’s head and Cobb will forever deny the vindictive pleasure he felt when watching the smarmy man squirm and beg for his life (he didn’t get fond of Dick. Cobb doesn’t do fond. He hates him almost as much as he hates Bruce, thank you and good day.)

… okay I just realized none of this really qualifies as angst but— somehow this post got away from me. I’m sorry 😭😭😭 feel free to ask for more specific angst content tho? 🙏

[clawbehavior]

we're five episodes into Shogun, which means we're halfway through the series and all the major plotlines have been introduced and the characters characterized. and i'm starting to notice things. 

namely, toranaga is becoming increasingly unlikeable. it started when he abandoned blackthorne to die after being saved by the man hours earlier, but it reached its peak with the return of the young heir's mother and the reveal that she's using the council against toranaga to protect her son. because then what is toranaga going to war for? we were told via the dead king's widow that toranaga needs to protect the young heir against the council, but clearly that's not true. so what's he doing? it bothered me that toranaga could be so kind to the young heir, playing with him and advising him, while neglecting his own son, whose insecurity around his father was so transparent that he was easily manipulated into starting a war. but then i wondered if toranaga was showing his true self (his third heart) to his son. that scene where he says "you categorize everyone as enemies and friends when you only have yourself" implies that he sees everyone as a potential enemy, which can only happen if his self-interests are at odds with everyone else's. seeing the end of episode five, i think toranaga is not what he seems. we know he can be duplicitous. he plays uncle and nephew against each other so easily, getting rid of the problem of their growing power by doing so. i think the falcon motif that's ever present in the show represents toranaga, flying against the sun so his prey can't see him until it's too late (episode one). he's fooling everyone, including his allies, which brings me to my next point. 

mariko's story is not going to end well. i didn't know why this was a limited series with no chance of a season two until we got her backstory. mariko is straight up suicidal, just looking for a purposeful/honorable way to do it. if blackthorne can see this within days of meeting her, across a huge cultural divide and despite language differences, then toranaga has clocked this about her too, which doesn't bode well for her life. the mariko-blackthorne-husband love triangle subplot serves a deeper function of revealing her psyche to us.  she can't let go of her feelings of injustice and dishonor from her family's deaths. (the flashback we get of her past shows her father's haunted expression because that's how she remembers the event, with horror rather than disgust for his actions.) this is why she tells blackthorne the truth about her family when ordered to by her husband, even though blackthorne tells her to lie and tell him something else because her husband won't know. mariko can't let go of what happened to her family (and her husband doesn't let her). she's been spiritually dead for ages and the return of her husband from the dead not only means she cheated, which someone with her honor code can't live with, it means she cannot be happy with blackthorne. her tragic past coupled with her strong feelings towards honor/dishonor makes her easy for toranaga to use, though it's unclear for what.

interestingly, mariko and blackthornes' opposing ideologies are why they survived and found each other. mariko resists quietly, inside her soul (the eightfold fence), turning to her Christian faith and becoming devout and learned in Portuguese to speak with the priests. this is how she ends up as blackthorne's translator, a position of power and later romance. blackthorne, in contrast, resists outwardly and every step of the way. that scene where toranaga tells him to give up because he's outnumbered and blackthorne replies "unless i win" captures his character perfectly. he's going to fight until the last second, which is why he survives the journey to Japan, and why he gets separated from his men and integrated into a foreign culture, and why he steers the ship to safety rather than being left behind to die. that stubbornness to live shows up as a tendency for breaking all the rules, the result of which is meeting mariko and unintentionally getting her to fall in love with him. it's so fascinating how their ideologies have set them apart from their own people and brought them together while indicating their incompatibility. 

the show does a good job of layering characters and keeping them consistent, so i have faith that they'll return to yabushige's scary character. him torturing a sailor to death in pursuit of an existential question in a way so barbaric that it scares even the villagers did an excellent job in setting the tone of the show in episode one and setting the show apart from other historic period dramas. so it's disappointing to see him turn into a conniving goofball. hopefully this is a short term thing. 

i haven't been so intrigued by the political machinations within a show in a long while, probably since GoT. can't wait to see how the rest of it plays out 

gif below courtesy of @yocalio. look at toranaga's face shadowed in the sunlight. we don't fully know him.

[vibratingskull]

Part 2 BEBE !!!!

Part 1

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, duel, torture, cunni, exhibition

You feel sick. 

You gulp with difficulty as you enter the open field. 

This is the place. 

The place where a Grand Admiral might die today. And for the stupidest reason... 

Why go so far for you? What thought crossed his mind when he slapped his gloves in Sir Hatway’s face? 

You greet your teeth as you see the tall figure of Thrawn in the field with the smaller one of Hatway, ostensibly turning their back to one another.  

You know Grand Admiral Thrawn is an accomplished warrior but Sir Hatway’s favorite hobby is hunting and he knows his way with a gun. 

They both have their witness standing next to them, pep talking them. 

You approach, apprehensive. It is a grey day, with no wind but no sun. The tall grass of the open meadow caresses your skirt as you walk towards Thrawn, worried sick.  

They both turn to you and bow. 

“Princess Palpatine.” Hatway says coldly, focused on the next minutes. 

“Princess (F/n).” Thrawn greets, bowing deeply, addressing you with your mother’s name as you prefer. 

You never saw him bow this low before your father...  

“Will you be our judge today?” He asks, rising back with all his height. 

“No.” You shake your head  “I cannot be the judge of this duel since you fight in my name. I brought my older sister to accomplish this task.” you gesture to your older sister placing herself beside you. 

“Princess Palpatine.” Hatway bows deeper to her. 

She technically holds more power as the eldest and men love to impress her more than you. Thrawn, always polite, bows his head to her but it seems to you that he doesn’t bow as far as he did for you... he stands back up and turns back his fiery eyes to you. 

You gulp, looking into his eyes. They are so shiny and clear, void of any shadows. You look into each other eyes, forgetting the people around you. 

Thrawn’s witness, a woman commodore, approaches with his gun in hand to give it to your sister. 

“As you can see, Princess, this is a strictly regular model. It was not tampered with in any way.” She proclaims assuredly. 

Your sister takes the gun and observes it intently, she too knows her way with a gun. 

“Indeed.” She finally judges, “Sir Hatway? May I see yours?” 

Hatway’s witness bring his gun to you sister that judges it regular too. 

“You may proceed. Salute your opponent.” She orders. 

The two men look at each other with clear distaste but Thraw offers his hand first. Hatway takes it with a groan and shakes it. 

Did Thrawn pressed Hatway’s hand too much? Hatway’s winces as they shake. 

“You will place yourself at 10 meters of distance of each other and fire at my signal and my signal only! Is that clear gentlemen?” Your sister enunciates. 

They both agree. 

“Did your seconds know and agree to take your place if one of you were injured and the duel must continue?” 

The witnesses nod. 

“Gentlemen, place yourself.” Your sister demands regally. 

You observe Grand Admiral Thrawn walking away with a beating heart. Could you let this happen? Let this pure genius throw his entire fates away just for you?  

How could you?! 

Not even try to stop his foolishness. 

You gasp and run after him. Like he felt your presence behind him, he stops and turns to you, boring his gaze into yours. He silently awaits your judgment. 

“Why do that?” You ask, gripping his sleeve. 

“I could not let him insult you like that, it was beyond me.” He responds, assured. 

“But... Why do that for me?”  

"Your honor is important to me and I will protect it with my life.” He looks into your eyes, deadly serious. “This fool does not deserve your incredible pieces in his gallery.” 

“It is... Stupid. You have a bright future ahead of you, and are ready to throw it into the trash like that? For... For me?” 

He takes your hand to kiss your knuckles. 

“For you, Your Majesty. My Princess...” He breathes so low you barely hear him, looking straight into your desperate eyes.  

“Please do not die.” You beg. 

“Because you order me, I will not.” He bows his head to you. 

You rise on your toes and kiss his cheek, wishing him good luck the best you could. His breath gets stuck in his throat and you feel him tremble under the touch of your lips. 

“My knight in shining armor.” You murmur. 

He takes your cheek tenderly and kisses your forehead. 

“Always for you, Your Majesty.”  

He parts with you and you have difficulties letting his hand go as he places himself in position. A hand seizes your shoulder, your sister invites you to return to her side. 

She tuts you. 

“What will you do if he dies?” 

You look at her with despair, holdings your hands together in a silent prayer. 

“Please do not bring misfortune upon him...” You whisper, looking at his back. 

“You should worry about yourself, about what father will do to you if his Grand Admiral dies.” 

She is right, your father will be furious, maybe to the point of ending your life... But you do not care, your only concern is Thrawn’s safety, your little life seems so insignificant when he could lose his. 

Why did the Grand Admiral do that? The question spins on your head endlessly, driving you absolutely crazy. 

Oh Maker... What if he loses, what if he gets shot badly? What if he does die? How will you survive him? 

What if the best Grand Admiral of the Empire dies today, trying to protect your honor? 

You look with a pounding heart, you feel like you’re about to pass out with stress, but Thrawn looks calm and serene like he was made for that moment. Is he like that on the bridge? 

They reach the limit and turn back to one another to draw. 

Your sister looks at them before raising her hand. 

“Fire!” Your sister’s voice clearly resonates in the open field. 

You gasp and hide your eyes, unable to look at that scene any longer. You shudder as you hear the gunshots. 

You separate your fingers to look between them. 

Thrawn is on the ground... 

“NO!” You scream without being able to contain yourself. 

Without a second thought, you rush to his side, throwing yourself on the ground where he is lying. 

Is he truly...? 

“He touched my shoulder...” His rich melodious voice speaks, pain audible in the tone, “I am all right, Your Majesty.”  

He raises in a sitting position, holding his shoulder before revealing a burnt mark on his flesh where he has been shot, blood pouring off his wound. 

Behind you his second arrives, worried but silent. 

“Maker, Thrawn! Are you all right?!” You are all over him, worried sick. 

“I am fine.” He soothes you like he was not just shot a second ago, “What are the results?” 

You turn towards Sir Hatway’s station. Your sister and his second are there, looming over him. Your sister stands back, visibly distraught. 

“Sir Hatway is... dead.” 

You open your eyes wide open. 

He’s... Dead? 

Your sister shakes her head, regaining her composure. 

“Such are the risks of a duel and he knew it. It appears you are victorious, Grand Admiral Thrawn.” She speaks up solemnly. 

You turn back to the Grand Admiral, shocked. He looks at you intently, his hand holding your cheek. 

And suddenly you explode. 

“YOU... You unruly man! You thoughtless idiot! You absolute fool! Why risking it all for me?!” You hit his valid arm, outraged. 

“I will do it again without hesitation, Your Majesty.” He claps back deadly serious, diving his deep red eyes in yours. 

“I was so afraid for you...” You start sobbing. 

He pulls you closer to put his forehead on yours tenderly. 

“I am alive and well, Your Majesty, as you ordered me.” 

“Thanks the Maker...” You pray, snuggling against him, relieved beyond belief. 

You feel his arms wrapping around your shoulders to press you against him, without regard for his wound. He inhales, his nose buried in your hair, kissing the top of your head reverently. 

“If you allow me, Your Majesty, I have one demand as a reward.”  

“What? What do you desire Grand Admiral? I can give you anything.” You take his cheeks in your hands, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. 

He takes his breath. 

“I want a rendezvous with you. Somewhere far away, just the two of us...” 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Thrawn scrolls on his datapad, the room barely lighted. He hears a moan of pain rising but his eyes remain fixed on the screen. 

The moan stops for a gasp of air and a terrified shout. 

“Wha-Where am I? Why am I blinded?” the man asks, scared, “Why am I chained?!” 

Thrawn’s eyes rise to observe his victim. 

He hates this man with every fiber of his being, to the depth of his very soul. 

He opens another app and you appear on his screen, soundly sleeping in your royal bed. He smiles softly at your sleeping form. You are safe here, even if you are not with him.  

He hid a lot of cameras in your art studio and suite at the palace, keeping a tab on you when he is away in campaigns. He loves what he sees, you in your daily life, simply magnificent. Natural and simple. His fingers come caressing your face on his screen tenderly. 

“Is someone there!?” The prisoner screams in a panick. 

Thrawn sighs and puts down the datapad.  

What a loud man... And discourteous too! Thrawn had the occasion to observe how he interacts with women and he is... Deviant. He hides it very well in polite society, as his status taught him, blinding everyone around him to his true nature. 

But you told Thrawn. 

You revealed to him everything. 

And his blood has been boiling ever since. 

Thrawn puts his hand in his pocket to take out the ring and observe it in the crude light. It is a tacky piece of jewelry but mounted with a rare and very pricey precious green stone making it unreasonably expensive. This man will not miss it once Thrawn is done with him, he has other plans for this little piece of craftsmanship. Thrawn stands up from his chair and circles the chair, gauging the man chained up. He should have gagged him too... 

“I hear someone in the room! Show yourself, say something! Help me for Maker’s sake!” 

Thrawn puts himself in front of his prisoner and snatches the blinds of his eyes. The young man blinks and shakes his head, recovering his senses. 

“Who are you?! What do you want from me?!” He screams instantly. 

Thrawn takes a step back, observing the man in greater detail. 

What a pitiful man, what a waste of space and air. Those types of men deserve to die without ceremony. 

“Say something you psycho!” 

Thrawn slowly tilts his head like a curious predator observing a wounded bleeding prey in front of him, debating if he should jump to his throat or watch it die a painful and slow death. 

“Help! Help someone! Anybody!” The young man screams in despair. 

“It is no use. No one is near this place, I chose it especially for the calm and quietness it can provide. Rest assured no one will interrupt us.” Thrawn stoically responds, uninterested in the struggle of his victim. 

“Who are you?! Wha-What did I ever do to you?!” 

Thrawn silently folds the blindfold neatly to put it down on the table next to the datapad. He looks over the surface, where different vibroblades are resting, waiting to be chosen. In the shadow of the dark room, he weights some in his hand, slashing the air to test their sharpness. He feels the panicked gaze of the man on him, knowing that it is too dark for a human to see his actions. 

Those are blades you offered him for one of his succeeded campaigns, he kept them all in neat conditions and squicky clean. They are sharp and deadly, he absolutely loves them, observing the reflection of his shining red eyes in the metal.  

“You do not know me, but I know you, sir.” Thrawn placidly says once his choice is made, “I took time to observe and get acquainted with your person.” 

The man looks at him with round eyes, sweating profusely in stress and fear, he cannot do anything but stammer as Thrawn comes back towards him with the blade in his hand. 

“She told me everything. It cost her a lot to reveal those painful memories, I had to hold her as she cried in my arms, helpless. Do you know how it feels to witness your darling cry? To feel so utterly powerless to help and soothe her pain?” 

Thrawn seizes the young man’s jaw in his powerful hand, making him squeal and look like a goofy fish. 

“I suppose you do not. Your kind does not know compassion of any kind.” 

His first assumption that you were a virgin was false. 

Because of this man. 

Because he could not respect “no”. 

You cried so much, you felt dirty and broken, snuggling in Thrawn’s arms as he hugged you. He was shocked beyond belief that you had to go through such a horrific thing and was able to hide it from him for so long. You strategically hid the sketches of this man when you realized Thrawn was able to reveal secrets with art alone, hiding the horrifying truth from his eyes. 

But one day you broke. 

You held it secret for so long, ashamed of yourself for letting this happen. No one around you ever knew... 

Thrawn silently listened to your choked words, embracing your body tight. He had a sensual and torrid evening in mind but when he initiated you exploded in tears. So he sat down and listened attentively.  

He demanded to see your art of that monster, to see for himself the depth of your wound. 

The man is a member of the high society, a prized bachelor with power and riches. You knew each other since you were kids and you looked at him as a friend and asked him to model for you. 

Did he misinterpret that proposition? Or did he plan it? 

The results are all the same in the end. 

Thrawn had the occasion to take out rivals, swiftly and discreetly, but this man... This man deserves all his care and attention. He will make him pay so deep in his flesh. 

Thrawn activates the blade and makes it dance on your torturer’s cheek. His teary eyes open wide, looking at the blade in despair. Without any warning, Thrawn slashes his skin. 

He is beyond furious. Your first time should have been magical, enchanting, enthralling! He would have taken such good care of you, helping you discover your tastes and fantasies, safe in his arms. But that trash tainted this magnificent moment forever for you! 

He robbed you of a formative moment and will haunt your memories forever. 

The man winces in pain as his blood starts flowing. 

“You disgust me.” Thrawn lets him know coldly. 

His blood is boiling but he feels extremely calm, patient, and serene. He knows exactly why they are both here, he carefully planned this moment for several months and now nothing will come to stop him. 

He is entirely at his mercy. 

“Please... We can talk, between men we can understand each other...” The fool pleads. 

Thrawn makes the blade spin in his hand and deeply stabs the man’s thigh. The trash screams in pain, struggling in his cuffs. Thrawn releases his jaw to seize his hair, forcing his head backward, and takes the blade out to put it under his chin, poking the delicate throat. The garbage’s pants taints themself of a deep red color as warm blood escapes the gaping wound. 

“We are nothing alike. You destroyed her when I built her up. You leave pain and blood in your path when I comfort and hug her trembling form. You do not know love and compassion, your heart is dry. You do not deserve to travel the same universe as her. You tainted her perfection with your actions and I am here today to stop her nightmares once and for all.” 

And without further discussion, Thrawn starts peeling the skin off your assaulter’s face with the blade. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

You can’t help but giggle as Thrawn is pulling you forward, his hand holding yours firmly, guiding you inside the palace. Where does he want to take you? You let him decide with a smile. 

It has been a while since you saw each other, he is so often away in campaigns and you are so often taken by your political duties as a princess, seeing each other is more of an obstacle course than a walk in the park.  

But today your father isn’t here, he went away to monitor the Stardust project which is why your boyfriend’s presence at the palace surprised you. Usually, Thrawn comes to Coruscant to meet your father and takes advantage of it to see you, but he gets back into space very quickly. You did not expect your boyfriend’s presence around here without the necessity to see the Emperor. 

Today he came exclusively for you. 

Only to see you. 

Sending your heart in a frenzy. 

Thrawn keeps walking in the corridors with your hand in his, you long walked past your art studio but your apartments aren’t in this direction. Is he guiding you... 

...Towards the Throne room? 

Why would he want to bring you there? 

The doors open for you, revealing the Empire’s throne to you both, peacefully floating inches over the floor at the top of steps, guarded by the red soldiers in their long robes and masks guaranteeing their identity. 

Thrawn stops at the feet of the stairs, head high and gaze fixated on the throne. With the setting sun darting its rays through the window bay the throne is illuminated with a fantastical halo, making it an artifact worthy of the ancient legends. 

At the top of those stairs, History contemplates you both. 

You turn your head to Thrawn with questions in your eyes. He is fixated on the throne, silent, but you can see his lips slowly stretching into a tight grin. He turns his gaze to you and you can see something akin to... mischief shining in his rubies. His grin remains as he looks at you up and down. 

“Do you trust me, Ch’acah?” He finally asks, squeezing your hand gently. 

You nod, smiling back. 

“Of course, my love.” 

He nods and takes the first step on the stairs. The guards don’t move an inch as you both ascend toward the throne. It is because of you. If you weren’t with Thrawn right now the guards would have swarmed him for daring to approach a symbol of the Emperor’s power. 

But they all remain still, letting you climb the stairs in complete silence, their deadly lances shining in the sun’s rays. 

You reach the top and contemplate the throne silently. 

You’re father’s throne... 

Who will sit on it after... Who knows? 

In the back of your head and the bottom of your stomach, you feel like none of the Princesses will inherit it... Ever. 

Thrawn approaches the throne and caresses the top of the chair almost... tenderly. This time the guards react, and like they were robots they spin towards your couple in perfect synchrony, their weapons drawn and pointed at you. 

Or rather at Thrawn. 

You raise your hand with a silent order. The guards stop but their weapons remain pointed at Thrawn’s back. You scowl and snap your fingers, pointing them out of the room. 

What do they imagine you are about to do to a throne? Especially as an Imperial princess. Sometimes you would appreciate infantrymen having more gumption. 

“No.” Thrawn casually says, not even giving a single glance to the men who had their deadly weapons drawn to his back a second ago, “I want them here.” 

You snap your fingers again, ordering the guards to stop and replace themself. 

They obey. Like machines. 

Thrawn kisses your knuckles with his mischievous smile still on his lips. 

“Sit down, Ch’acah.” 

You look at the royal chair in disbelief. 

“I never sat on the throne.” You explain to him, “The Emperor forbade it, I cannot-” 

“The Emperor,” Thrawn cuts you, pressing your knuckles against his cheek, “... Is not here. You are the Imperial representative in this room right now.” 

“Thrawn, I can’t.” You repeat softly. 

He hums, kissing the palm of your hand. 

“Do it. To humor me.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. You sit down on the throne, your hand still in Thrawn’s.  

You hope your father won’t hear about that outrage... 

Thrawn hums approvingly and kneels before you. 

“My Princess, cheo Ch’acah...” He kisses both of your hands reverently, “My Empress...” 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn,” You chuckle, “I am no Empress, you silly.” 

 “You are the Empress of my heart, my Empress.” 

Did he emphasize the ‘my’? You cannot be certain. 

He gently releases your hands and adroitly seizes your legs, they caress their way down your calf to grab the hem of your dress to pull it up your knees, caressing their way up tenderly. You squirm on the throne as he reveals your naked knees. You’re used to wearing shorter garments too, but his actions trouble you slightly. He takes your knees in his two powerful hands and parts them open. 

You shudder, digging your nails into the seat of the throne.   

“Thrawn?” You ask, gulping, but with a smile you hoped was not too alarming. 

He keeps grinning and leaves infinitely soft kisses on the inner of your thighs, like delicate butterfly wings, his large hands taking a handful of your thighs, gently kneading your flesh. His mouth starts at your knee but slowly advances forward. 

He sighs in delight and you hear a purr starting to emanate from his kneeling form. 

“Hum... Love?” You call again, a little more pressing, “What are you doing?” 

“My, I pay my respect to my Empress of course.” He chuckles, brazenly looking at you while kissing your inner thighs. “I treat hers as she deserves.” 

You gulp, looking at the guards in the room. You are already breaking so many rule just to sit on that throne... 

“Do you trust me, cheo Ch’acah?” He asks again, his feverish and darkening gaze boring into your very soul. 

“Yes, but...” You do not finish that sentence, unable to complete it before that glittering regard. 

“This throne,” He purrs deeply “It is made for you. I will make sure you inherit the throne so the Empire knows the enlightenment of your reign.” He nuzzles against your thigh, looking up at you, “I will stand by your side, and obey you in all matters.” 

You scoff, amused. 

“Would you not prefer to sit next to me?” 

“No one deserves to sit next to you. I will put my tactics to your service and bow to your power as it is my place.” 

“You envision such a lonely future for me,” You pout, “What if I dictate your place to be next to me?” 

He grins sarcastically. 

“I would be of no use on a throne, but if you entrust me your navy I will create miracles in your name. And you will not be alone, I will always be with you” He promises. “I will not leave your side for a single second...”  

“Like my dear and esteemed boyfriend?” you smile. 

He growls slightly, to your surprise. 

“I am well past the age to be a boyfriend.” He reaches for his pocket, taking one of your hands in his “I want to take things further.” 

He passes a ring on your ring finger delicately, robbing you of your breath. 

“Oh, maker Thrawn!” you stutter, “Are you...?” 

“Sure of myself? Since the day I laid my eyes on you.” He responds, “I want to share your life as your companion, walk in your steps, and bask in your light every day.” 

“My... My father may object, he-” 

“Let me handle your father. When I bring him the heads of the Rebellion’s leaders he will not be able to refuse me anything. Especially not the duty to protect one of his daughters with my life and soul.” He resumes the kisses of your thighs. 

You bite your lips, refraining a smile. It would be wonderful if the Emperor himself blessed your union... 

You actually can’t believe that Thrawn is proposing to you! 

How could you pick up such a man like him? But here he is, kneeling between your legs with a ring and hope in his shiny rubies. He patiently awaits your response, peppering soft pecks on your exposed skin. 

You giggle a bit, lowering your gaze to the ring 

And froze 

That ring.... 

That green diamond... 

And is it... blood on the metal? 

You look back at Thrawn incredulously and at a loss for words. He grins deviously. 

You open your mouth but no sounds escape your lips. 

Did he do... What you think he did? 

“Do you like it?” He asks with dark satisfaction. “I choose it especially for you.” 

You painfully breath through your constricted throat. 

“He will never hurt you again, I made sure of it. His ring seemed perfect to signal your triumph over him, so I took the liberty to take it from him.” He explains  

You gulp, detailing the ring. 

Is it true? 

“But why?” You ask with tears behind your eyes. 

“But for you, of course. For what other possible reasons?” 

You sob pressing the ring against your chest. 

Finally 

You are free... 

“Thank you...” You weep pathetically. 

“There is no need for any thanks. I simply did what I must to protect you, and I will do it again if need be.” He gently tuts you. 

“No... Nobody ever did such things for me...” 

“I am here now. And when you will ascend on the throne it will be a daily occurrence, I will make sure of it.” He assures, his dark grin illuminating his eyes with a strange light. 

Something almost... deranged. 

But for some reason, you don’t mind it. You focus on the fact that for the first time in your life, someone took your side and stood by it. 

“Do you accept?” He breathes deeply, on edge to know your response. 

“Yes... Yes!” You nod vigorously between the tears, “I will marry you Thrawn. I will!” 

He sighs, pleased, his dark grin melting into a lighter, more relaxed smile. 

“Wonderful...” He exhales in bliss, “But now I need to train you!” 

And without any warning he pushes your dress up your hips, exposing all of your naked legs and undergarments to everyone in the room. You cannot help the squeal escaping you. 

“Train me for what?” You yelp in surprise. 

“To be treated like an Empress. I will teach you, starting today.” 

He hooks the side of your panties and pulls them down your legs. With Thrawn between your legs, you cannot close them to protect and hide yourself effectively. You cry out, digging your nails into the white fabric of his shoulders. 

“Thrawn!” You protest “What are you...?!’ 

“Trust me, Ch’acah.” He repeats again, “I know exactly how you should be treated and how I want to serve you...” 

You can hear his breath accelerating under the excitation, his rubies shining like real fires in the darkening throne room. He keeps your thighs firmly open while you are keenly aware of the guards around you two. 

Obedient, they remain still and silent. 

While your panic increase. 

“Thrawn!” You try to stop him. 

But when you look at him, you see a different man. His large warm hands groping your naked thighs and his eyes devouring your bare pussy in front of him, the growl escaping from his parted lips as he appears... 

Hypnotized  

By what he sees. 

“You have no idea for how long I craved this moment.” He grunts, licking his lips, “Let me take care of everything, sit back and relax.” He encourages. 

It is not your first rodeo with Thrawn. Even if you didn’t go all the way yet with him, he made you feel relaxed and secure enough in his arms to allow him to touch you. 

But... In public?! 

You have no time to protest again, he dives in and takes a long, sloppy lick at your pussy with the flat of his warm wet tongue. Your entire body tense up as you let out a whiny cry. Thrawn doesn’t share a single of your scruples and starts working on your little pussy with enthusiasm. 

He licks and laves and nibbles and sucks at your soft flesh, his tongue trailing your slit up and down, parting your puffy lips. He is eagerly eating you out like a starved man. 

You never saw him like that! 

Him usually so proper! So perfectly tidy and collected! Untouchable and haughty... 

All reasons seem to have left him, making him like a starved beast. He gropes your thighs by the handful, holding them firmly in his powerful fists, ensuring you will not escape him, he eats you voraciously, with lecherous and direly improper moans and groans that he let resonate in the room for everyone present to hear, leaving absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind what was happening right now! 

 On your hand you cannot fight back his assault or escape his grips, the best you can do is to desperately push your hips back in the seat of the throne, but his greedy mouth follows just as quickly and closes back on your cunt, not giving you a second to rest. 

His eyes are closed like he is savoring a delicacy and the purr joins the grunts to rise in the room. You feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter under his ministration as you try your best to remain silent. 

Which proves incredibly complicated! He seems determined to have you scream with his tongue alone. He gives long laps, coating your puffing-up pussylips in his drool conscientiously before giving rapid and swift licks at your clit, teasing it with the dart of his tongue. He wraps his lips around your pearl and loudly sucks on it like he would a lollipop.  

Oh the wet sounds... 

You squirm and wince, badly containing your little mewls, biting your lips into silence which he took notice of. His eyes flash open to look up at you, hypnotizing you with his red gaze. 

His regard is so deep and full of meaning you almost cum right here and there. 

But you hold on, holding on to little dignity you have left. 

Which displeases him. 

He wants you greedy, unapologetically loud, and demanding. He wants to hear you sing and moan and mewl and cry your pleasure like you owned Coruscant, forcing his head against your wet cunt to suffocate him until he is on the verge of passing out by lack of air. 

He wants you to ride his tongue in front of all those men unashamedly. 

You are an Empress! 

You do what you want, take what you want! 

You don’t ask, you serve yourself! 

He wants to feel your fists gripping his hair to press his mouth against your sweet pussy to impose on him your pace and desires. As you should! 

As it is your Maker-given right! 

But you stupidly hold on to a childish dignity. 

It is time for you to seize the world, and it starts now by ravishing him! As he so dear wish you would! 

You just need a little push, a little bit of help... He can give you that. 

“Look at me. I want you to look into my eyes when you cum, cheo Ch’acah.” He invites. 

He seizes your thighs and throws them on his shoulders, spits on your pussy, and resumes his licks. He titillates your little pearl relentlessly, his red eyes fixated on yours, daring you to deny him. He flicks your clit rapidly with the dart of his tongue, tensing up your inner muscles in unstoppable pleasure. 

“Sing. Be loud. Scream my name.” He continues. 

He wants those men to hear the real delight of your mewls only for them to remain still, imprisoned in their roles, unable to touch themself or you. He wants them to know that it is him and only him who can make you feel this good! 

Isn’t it wonderful? A Grand Admiral on his knees to dutifully serve his glorious Empress. This is worthy to be depicted in art, he should eat you out before a painter and expose the results in his suite before his bed. It would be the very first thing he would see opening his eyes each morning. 

What a delight it would be to wake up to such a magnificent scene! 

You gasp and whine, digging your nails in the armchair of the throne. You never felt that before, when you masturbated it was never so... intense. And what you felt during your assault... 

Is entirely different 

Thrawn is determined to have you cum and cum HARD, he really wants you to scream in this room full of strangers you realize. You feel sweat rolling on your skin, goosebumps all over as your chest rises up and down rapidly, your heart in a frenzy, pumping blood down your pussy, puffing up your inner muscles, making them soft and fluffy, ready to receive a shaft deep inside you.  

You feel your cunny gaping under his touch, leaking profusely as your slick mix with Thrawn’s drool to roll down your thighs and butt and onto the Imperial throne, soiling it. 

Thrawn’s purr is deafening, mixed with his wet grunts, he devours you like a predator, voraciously, eagerly, urgently... 

His eyes look brazenly in yours, but there is something lying in them, like... despair. 

He is desperate for something, but you’re not sure what. Helpless you release one armchair to caress his hair gently, trying to give him some tenderness back. 

He hums and closes his eyes for a split moment, satisfied, so you keep caressing his head. 

Thrawn kisses your pussylips before parting them with two fingers and pushes his tongue in your gaping entrance, and starts tonguefucking you wholeheartedly like it was life’s mission. 

Oh he is in heaven... 

Having the privilege to touch you in such a way, to lick your sweet, sweet pussy as he always fantasized... Your sweet nectar tastes even better than in his wildest dreams. Your little mewls and uncontrollable moans that escape your mouth go straight to his hardening cock. 

He wants to touch himself but he must remain focused on your pleasure. This is his top priority! He can wait until later. 

He wants your hand caressing his hair to roll into a fist and force him down, that would be so sweet... So delicious, so lecherous, so scandalous... 

All that he loves! 

Oh please, ch’acah, won’t you do it for him? Give in to his little fantasy, and make him the happiest man? It will take so little... He is so close to feeling true happiness. 

As he drools on his jaw and you, getting lost in your delicious taste on his tongue, he starts humping the air by pure instinct. He feels you creaming on his tongue and puffy lips and he wants so much more! 

He wants your orgasm, he wants to ravage you entirely, he wants you to squirt uncontrollably in his mouth... 

He feels your body trembling under his hands, shaken by irresistible tremors of pleasure, your plump thighs clenching around his skull irrepressibly. Your skin is so soft and smooth, if this is not heaven, then what is it? He wants to remain caged between them forever, honoring your body til his death. 

He feels your little pussy throbbing and clenching around his flexible tongue, proof of your approaching orgasm, he just needs to push a little longer, a little farther...  

You shake on the throne, panting desperately for air. You cannot refrain from any mewls escaping you now, it is beyond your strengths, Thrawn managed to have you moan out loud for everyone to hear. He licks and circles your G spot so easily, titillating it, bringing you to your knees for him, you can hear him drink your slick with loud gulps, his eyes shining brighter than ever before. 

His eyes keep pleading for you as his purr sends vibrations through his tongue as he laps your sex, resulting in intense waves of pleasure. 

Oh you never felt so much pleasure before... How is that even possible? 

To stabilize your trembling self your second hand comes resting on his head which seems to please him immensely as he doubles down in his work. 

The shame to be seen is long gone, dissolved before the craving to come. It is so improper and you know it, but at that moment, at that very second, you do not care, you only want to cum. 

You roll your hands into fists, disheveling your boyfriend as your pussy clenches desperately around his long warm tongue.  

And then 

The tension snaps. 

You cum hard with a scream of his name, uncontrollably pressing his face down your core. Your back arches as firelights explode behind your eyelids. For several seconds you are blind and deaf, confused in this drowning pleasure flowing like lava in your veins. 

Thrawn purrs loudly, his eyes closed, savoring the moment. He cannot breathe in these conditions, but who cares, really? That is exactly what he wanted! He drinks your essence avidly as you finish squirting in his mouth. 

Oh this is so glorious... 

Is this what faithful people feel when they get into trances for their idols? When they receive their divine message?  

Because he feels like a believer blessed by the Light. 

You release your grip on his hair way too soon to his taste but he cannot hold it against you. He observes how your exhausted body slouches on the throne, empty of all energy. You pant hard and your chest rises up and down, your face heat signals irradiating in his red eyes. This orgasm took a serious toll on you. 

He feels really proud of himself! 

He parts from your palpitating pussy with regrets, giving it a last lick and reverent kiss, pressing his cheek against your thigh, catching his own breath. 

He came in his trousers. How could he not? Those moans of yours and your fragile body trembling on his tongue... It was better than anything he ever had. 

You look into each other eyes, completely forgetting that you are in public. 

You gulp seeing your essence beading off his perfect jaw and the glitter in his eyes.  

“How was it?” He asks with a lopsided grin, clearly satisfied with his performance. 

“It was... Scandalous.” you manage to say between gasps. 

“This is why it feels so good.” He retorts with a dark chuckle. 

He hopes you will allow him to do it again. Before the entire court! He wants to serve you before them all for them to see! 

You are an Empress, who will dare say anything? 

He takes your hand to kiss your palm, his eyes lying on the ring on your finger. 

Finally 

You are his 

And he is yours 

His heart pumps harder at that thought. 

You will become his wife. His promised, his intended. 

His... 

He will force the Emperor’s hand, he will find a way. He always does. 

Because something is bothering him since he learned about your assault. It couldn’t have escaped your father. 

It is impossible. 

And he did nothing. 

Your torturer faced no repercurssions. 

Thrawn needs to take you away from the emperor, to keep you safe! 

If your own father isn’t interested in being your protector, he will fill that role. 

He will protect you from everything. 

He will find you an isolated cottage where you will be able to paint to your heart’s content, away from any danger. 

And away from everyone. 

He will bring you back to Coruscant when times come to take down your sisters for the throne and he will have the privilege to see you sit on it with the crown on your head. 

You will rule and he will obey as he does so well. 

With you, the Empire and the Ascendancy’s fate will be secured. He knows it. 

The Warrior put you on his path to save everyone 

And himself too  

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess  @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin@ineedazeezee @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @germie2037  @leo4242564 @empresskrennic @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[kuonjiarincrow]

Obey Me! Song Units I know will probably never come out but by darn I'll still die on this hill waiting for them:

(But considering All The Feels came out on a new YouTube channel named Triworlds instead of the Obey Me Official maybe it's not so far off? 👀)

The Fantastic Three:

Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos

(Nothing more needs to be said here.)

Purgatory Hall:

Simeon, Solomon, and Luke

(I really hope this one comes out. They're adorable. I love them sm I need more Simeon)

Cat:

Satan and Solomon

(Levi would also work here since the three of them get along well surprisingly. Belphie's voice would probably match really well with them too. Book worms unite!)

The Angels:

Simeon and Luke

(Simeon is best dad. No doubt on that. But I've also got this itch due to Hazbin Hotel since Sera and Emily remind me so much of them. The whole "I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder. You have to listen, it was such a hard decision. I wanted to save you the anguish it takes to do what was required." It would be nice to get a bit of foreshadowing under all the cute light they bring)

The Royals:

Diavolo and Barbatos

(I know I'm not ready for this one but I want it sm. Their vocals are deep so I feel this one would have more of a dark and brass-y type kinda like Trigger or Choose Me with maybe more guitar. Alternative: It's a one for one exactly like To Be A Princess from Barbie pun intended)

Sweets Masters / Gourmet Club:

Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub, and/or Luke

(This one could be them literally just naming different foods and I wouldn't even be mad tbh)

Invocatio:

Solomon, Barbatos, and Asmodeus

(Solomon and his Demons. I can already hear the back handed comments and snarky retaliations. Good shit.)

Speaking of back handed comments

Tea Demons / Brothers No More

Barbatos, Lucifer, and/or Simeon (ft. Satan and Mammon)

(These two are put together for they serve the same purpose. To get on Lucifer's nerves. JK but one can't deny that Barbatos and Simeon get a kick from Lucifer's reactions. Much like a certain cat lover and gambling addict. Belphegor and Solomon could also go here...at this point everyone is trying to turn Lucifer's hair white from stress. I just think it'd make for a fun song.)

Diabolus (?):

Diavolo and Solomon/Simeon

(This one is a bit tricky to put into words. It'd be nice if we could maybe get like a sort of The Other Side from The Greatest Showman mix with They're Only Human from the Death Note Musical of Diavolo and either Simeon or Solomon (or both) discussing their views on the three worlds and the best way to bring peace between them. If it's even possible. Again, it's a weird concept I find intriguing that could be a pretty good bop but most certainly won't happen.)

Venting Time:

Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos

(Literally just more of them tbh)

Royals and Brothers:

Diavolo and Lucifer, and Barbatos and Mammon

(It'd be nice to get a song with Diavolo and Lucifer since they're such good friends. The April Fool's video also left me wanting more Barbatos vs Mammon tbh)

Honorable Mentions:

These are mostly songs that I wish existed too but the ones above mostly focused on the Dateables rather than the brothers. But since one just can't get enough of them,

1. Big Brothers (Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan. Honestly, Levi needs more songs. Rock On!! Is one of the best unit songs, can't argue with that. But they're still the big three and Levi gets left out a lot :()

2. No Big Brothers Allowed (Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor. I love Satan and Asmodeus' relationship, I'm surprised there isn't more of them considering they're such good singers. And speaking of good singers, more twins pls)

3. Brothers Under a Pact (Mammon, Leviathan, and Beelzebub. I personally feel robbed that we don't have a song for them.)

4. Team Party (Mammon and Asmodeus. They're so full of energy they'd sing the best bop to play at the club.)

5. Where's My Money (Mammon and Leviathan. These tsunderes are so much more a like than they care to admit. There's potential for musical parallels)

8. I'm so thankful for all the hard work Solmare and the Boys do for us. They've definitely gotten better and more confident in their skills and it really shows. Spooky Night Parade, Magic Moment, Anniversary, and now All The Feels were all amazingly beautiful. Truly, I have no words for how much I love all these songs. They mean so much and I'm thankful for anything they bless us with. I can only hope they continue making incredible music.

6. 345 (Leviathan, Satan, and Asmodeus. Again, all three are great singers, it'd be cool to have a unit song for them.)

7. My Favorite (Lucifer and Belphegor. Big Bro vs Little Bro. The tension would be high here but their underlying love for each other is what does it for me.)

This post is really just wishful thinking on my part, the songs we have are so good I can't help but want more. Each instrument and lyrics have been given so much thought and I think they did such an amazing job at really capturing each character with their respective songs. Maybe I'll make a post dissecting each song. Or maybe I'm reading too much into them.

Regardless, thank you for the music❤️

If you managed to read to the bottom, thank you for reading my word vomit! It's 3 am and I need to stop procrastinating on sleep. Have a lovely day!

[aphidclan-clangen]

you don't have to post this, but I thought it would be funny!!!

Nimblekit: I just scream a lot... I just, scream... a lot

-

Goldshine: With all due respect, which is none,

-

Sparkspeckle: You know how someone can say “I respectfully disagree”? What about “I disrespectfully agree” for when you hate someone but they are unfortunately correct.

-

Shadebreak: I am always up for potential rule breaking.

-

Goldshine: Don’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself, I do it regularly.

-

Nimblekit: 80% of people are actually ugly because of their face, you know.

-

Pearlstar: Trans people? In my clan? It’s more likely than you think.

-

Blisswhistle: For the last time, you can’t die of adhd.

-

Sparkspeckle: You can do whatever you want forever :D

Stormwhisper: I love you, but that is not helpful.

-

Stormwhisper, too nervous to ask for emotional support: Man, it smells like wrongdog in here.

-

Gravel: Aren’t you like 5’2?

Firebeetle: I self identify as tall.

-

Pearlstar: Every day my joints are shocked and disgusted that I would use them for their intended purpose.

-

Sparkspeckle: You can never lose an argument if you say “shut up nerd” at the end.

Icesheep: Yes you can.

Sparkspeckle: Shut up nerd.

-

Goldshine: In my defense, your honor, I simply do not care enough.

-

Nimblekit: Your honor, in my defense, who cares like omfgggggggg who cares????????? Like come onnn.

-

Skykit: Are you a girl or a boy?

Shadebreak: Uhh, well some people aren’t girls or boys!

Skykit: Wow, just like snails...

Shadebreak: ???

-

Straight Man: Hey

Titania: That’s enough.

-

Lilacpaw: I respect perfume commercials being like, we can’t show you a smell, mind if we just go insane for 30 seconds?

-

Shadekit: Hey we are all really small, do you wanna sleep in a pile.

Icekit, Stormkit and Sparkkit: Yes.

-

Blisswhistle: “Fuck it, we ball” (Malnourished, heavy eye bags, dehydrated, on the verge of insanity.)

-

Goldshine: Evil infodumping where you just tell lies.

Sparkspeckle: Tiktok

Icesheep: 5-minute crafts

Shadebreak: Resume

Stormwhisper: Men

-

Nimblekit: I fucking hate the hand that feeds me, I think i’ll do something fucked up to it.

-

Nimblekit: Sick injury bro, would be a shame if i added insult to it.

-

Pearlstar: I laugh at my own jokes because I am my target audience. Y’all just happen to be there fr.

-

Gravel: I wish they sold offbrand cars, get me a damn honder.

Firebeetle: Pulling up in the revolver.

-

Shadebreak: When two buses pass each other and the bus drivers don’t wave at each other, like omg... did you guys break up...

-

Blisswhistle: I can still crack a joke mid-breakdown, that’s why everyone is lucky to have me in their lives.

-

Gravel: They don’t kill the presidents like they used to.

-

Berrykit: The LMAO+ community.

Nimblekit: It’s LMFAO+ this is party rock erasure.

-

Sparkspeckle: It’s harder than you think to communicate with someone who isn’t familiar with the world of spongebob.

-

Goldshine: Pipe down your honor, you weren’t even there.

-

Goldshine: JFK?? Like from umbrella academy?? Haha... you know he’s not... real, right?

Stormwhisper: Wait, I though JFK was from clone high??

Sparkspeckle: JFK, as in Jesus Fucking Khrist, from the bible?

Icesheep: Isn’t JFK that fried chicken fast food chain.

Shadebreak: Guys cmon, it’s Jennedy Fennedy Kennedy, you gotta know this.

-

Goldshine: Mfs be named “James” and it only be one dude.

-

Nimblekit: Does violence have to be the last resort, can’t it be like third.

-

Lilacpaw: Free my man, he did all of it but I don’t care.

-

Pearlstar: Let me get this straight. Grabs the nearest heterosexual. Now, where were we. (He is holding nobody)

-

Blisswhistle: I’m so done with self care, it’s time for others harm.

-

Shadebreak: Fun fact. Shut the fuck-

-

Sparkspeckle: Nuh uh

Icesheep: FYM “NUH UH”???

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-⚡ anon

Genuinely made me laugh, I love these

[inseasofgreen]

CHAPTER 1 - ZEMORRI

As promised, a chapter from Plight of the Oracle. The polls ended with Zemorri, Sciosa, and Gaelin. Which work out perfectly as those are the pov's of the first three chapters. Look out for the next two in the upcoming week!

POTO TAG LIST (let me know if you want to be added!)

@lord-fallen @inkingfireplace @rhikasa @leahnardo-da-veggie @satohqbanana

@real-fragments @the-inkwell-variable @tildeathiwillwrite @oldfashionedidiot

“I, Zemorri of Pyros, pledge my life and blade to you, Your Imperial Majesty. I take this vow in front of the Gods and Men, and I dedicate my life in servitude to the Crown.” The peppered stone floor of the throne room bit into the Songbird’s knee. The golden bells rang in his braid; grating to his ears.

I promise, on my father’s grave, that you will die by my hand.

“Arise,” the King’s voice radiated off the walls. The man before the throne did as he was bid. “You have proven yourself to the Crown. As such, I name you my champion and grant you the title Defender of the Empyrean."

“You honor me, Your Majesty."

If you were a smart man, you’d kill me here and now. But you aren’t, old bastard, and neither am I.

“Go to Nivra, join your brothers in arms. I will send word if I require you.” The king said, sitting back upon his throne. Zemorri gave a low bow.

“I am at your command.” The words came out with ease yet tasted sour in his mouth.

With that, he began his departure from the throne room. The members of the Court watched him, wary of his every move. I am on your side. Xorulth’s reign will come to an end. Is what he wished to say. To renounce this ridiculous war. And my reign will begin. He bit his tongue, even if the words did not come out. A dangerous thought, but one that no matter how hard he shoved away always crept up. And with it, an all too proud grin.

The belief that the royal House Naezhaar had gone extinct was the pretender's only claim to the throne. All heirs to the throne were slain in battle. The babe that emerged from the tower after the war was won was not in the arms of the Queen. But of the young maid Zevetta. Mikath was forty years her senior and had a heart of gold. The very notion of it hadn’t crossed anyone’s mind. But this was war, and war changed people. When pride and morals were tossed aside in favor of victory, no matter how bittersweet it tasted.

Zevetta, seven and ten, with a babe at her breast, proclaimed her loyalty to Xorulth. She did not protest her marriage to the Master of Dragons. Instead, she played him for a fool. She convinced him to let her bastard boy be raised with his true-born sisters. Keeping true to her word to her boy’s father. A very dangerous game, but one Zemorri had played since he was ten. He knew the path they walked could crumble out below them; he only wished to soften the blow.

He could hear five sets of silk slippers following him. He led them to a smaller corridor that gave way to a lesser balcony. Away from any prying ears, most who resided in the keep would be at court by now, but he wouldn’t risk it. The sun was blinding against the pale stone of Khaaj’mor. He turned to face his mother and her brood.

They wore disappointment on their faces. In truth, it made little difference to him; he was hell-bound to see his brothers to safety. That was his priority for now: get everyone he loved far away from the city. Be it Kings of Dawn or Zemorri himself, hellfyre would rain down on the capital, and he did not intend for his family to be trapped in it.

“So that’s it?” his mother said, placing her hands on her hips. She wore her husband’s house colors, the god-awful green ill-suited for her copper skin.

“Ivemaar and Qhuriex need me. If something were to happen to them, I would never forgive myself.” He shifted uneasily on his feet. Even in the safety of the capital, he felt like a target was on his back. Bouncing from rebellion to rebellion, battle to battle had taken its toll on him.

“And what if something befalls you?” Her voice cracked.

“Then the gods were wrong.”

Zevetta’s hands fell into fists at her side; she looked to her daughter-in-law to be for help. Zemorri prepared himself; his bride’s words often cut more deeply than his mother's.

“My father will take this as an insult," Ivyr said, taking a step closer.

“Then he can take it up with the King.” He replied, gesturing in the direction of the throne room. “It’s your father that funds the war. It’s only a matter of time before his coffers run dry and the Kings of Dawn extend their reach. He knows this and is still persistent in funding the wars and stopping rebellions for a madman.”

“I understand the concern. Truly. But you arrived hardly three hours ago, and now you intend to just leave? I haven't seen you in months,” anger laced her words, “Go to them, as commanded, but give yourself time to refresh and recharge. Your braid’s a mess; you look as if you’re fighting a war this very moment.” Sighing, Zemorri gave in to defeat. He could not argue against her reasoning. He missed her terribly; he missed his bed even more.

“One night. I leave at first light.” Zemorri could allow himself this. Even his brothers-in-arms would want him to rest.

“The matter is settled then,” Zevetta clapped her hands together; she had gotten her way. “You’ll join us for supper? Both of you?”

His mother gently touched Ivyr’s shoulder, the younger woman forcing a smile on her face. His bride looked to Zemorri to answer.

Hells have mercy.

“We would love to, Mother,” Zemorri answered, actively avoiding the icy glares Ivyr gave him. She would have rather had him all to herself tonight, not that he would argue in any other circumstance. But this was for his family as much as it was for them. Tomorrow he would be gone until gods knew when.

The water was warm against his skin. Ivyr had helped him undo his braid; they had gotten most of the tangles out, but it would need another comb through after the bath. The golden bells placed in his hair didn’t help the matter either. With each breath of steam filling his lungs, he felt more relaxed by the moment. Almost enough to lull him to sleep. He allowed his eyelids to close, if only for a moment.

Blood. Lots of blood.

Screams from mothers losing their young, of husbands losing their wives. That was Xorulth’s command, and that was Zemorri’s rise to power. On the backs of bloodied peasants who couldn’t defend themselves.

Tears rain down his cheeks.

He could not save them all. And who knows how well those he did would fare.

Zemorri scrubbed at his face, his hands, his arms. Grabbing a rag, he scrubbed even harder, but the feel of the long-gone blood remained. The cloth stuck on the golden scaling on his forearms and ripped. Only that could bring him out of it. Back to the room before him.

“My love.” Ivyr pulled up a wooden stool and sat by his side. He tried to hide the evidence of his outburst, even if it was no use. Ivyr grasped the side of his face, pushing sobbing black hair out of his face.

She was beautiful. Only growing in beauty in their time apart. He found solace in her eyes, filled with warmth and worry. He cupped her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over her plump lower lip.

“I’m fine.” Is all he could bring himself to say.

Lie.

“Come lie with me? If we must attend the feast your mother is no doubt planning, I want to be alone a bit longer.” She set a delicate hand on his chest.

Easing out of the bath, Ivyr studied him over. Zemorri didn’t wish to know what she thought. Brushing her hand over the newest of the scars he earned while visiting tax collectors and the would-be faces of rebellion. It ran from his right lower ribs diagonal to his navel. It was gruesome, even with healing at work. She took a sharp breath.

"You have more scars than when you left.” Her cat-like eyes widened, with a slight shake in her voice.

Zemorri grumbled and wrapped himself in a towel. He didn’t need her gawking at him.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she pleaded for his attention once more. Gently pushing past her, he made his way to his bedchambers, “You’re not very talkative.”

“No.”

“I thought,” her voice followed him, “I don’t know. You’d have more to say.”

“About what?” His tone was harsh, perhaps a bit too harsh. He turned to look at his bride. She looked at her feet, refusing to make eye contact, “Don’t do this. I have had enough of this act with my mother; I do not need it from you too.”

"I—" a sigh, “I just want things to be back to normal already.”

Zemorri let out a croak of laughter.

“Normal? Nothing will ever be normal again. I will never be normal again; I can’t afford to be carefree. Not when—" He bit his tongue.

Not when he makes a muck of my empire.

“Not when what, Zemorri?” 

“The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done. They change people, haunt them in their sleep until they’re suffocating at their own hands.” Zemorri was shaking; dragonfyre burned within him.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing for him? In the King’s name? I know you will never be whole again, but don’t expect me to not mourn what I’ve lost.”

“What have you lost?” he couldn’t believe his ears, “What about what I’ve lost? What I have and will continue to have to endure? I did not ask for this, Ivyr.”

“But you accepted it," she said, so matter-of-factly.

He needed to get out of this room, away from her. Taking two strides to the wardrobe closest to him. Throwing open the doors, he grabbed a pair of riding leathers. He tossed them on the large bed.

“Where are you going?” she snapped.

“I need air,” he said, going to the next wardrobe over and selecting a shirt and tight breeches. He dressed quickly and pulled on a new pair of boots his mother had made in his absence. Better to break them in now than in war.

“You’re just going to leave?” Ivyr was furious, but he found it hard to care. He wished for open skies and the wind in his hair.

“I’ll be back in time for supper. I promise.” He walked over to her, forcing her to look up at him. “I love you.”

She rolled her eyes but reached up to kiss him.

Her breath was warm against the heat of his. He felt her shiver under his touch, bringing a small grin to his lips. Her touch was soothing, though not enough to quench the flame within. He broke the kiss too soon for both of them and left.

Indiss lay on the outskirts of town. He had outgrown the Dragon Hall, much to the relief of the handlers. He was a sharp contrast against the black rock beneath him, his scales stark white. Zemorri hadn’t ever seen snow, but he imagined his mount would be nearly impossible to see. Though the worry of someone climbing on the white’s back and taking him for themselves had been a fear, it was quickly dismissed.

The white was hatched and raised far from any influence of the Zrato; and as such, had more free will. Zemorri was able to claim the beast only because the beast allowed him. Indiss only answered to two things: blood and power.

As the Songbird neared, the white began to sing out to him. A deep, low chipping. Earning a laugh from his Zrato counterpart, the dragon, pleased with himself, flashed his many rows of razor-sharp teeth. Zemorri smiled back.

“We leave for Nivra tomorrow,” Zemorri spoke to the dragon in his mother’s tongue, a bastardized version of the Haivran the Dragon knew. “But I can’t stand having a roof above my head, the quietness that lets thoughts wander in. They don’t understand, not those who matter, at least.”

Black eyes met golden ones, and Zemorri could’ve sworn there was sympathy in them. The dragon nudged his rider’s chest with his massive head, though not enough to knock him off his feet. The Songbird never voiced the observation. But Indiss seemingly understood what his rider was saying, no matter what language it was in. But dragons were wise, their knowledge of the world greater than that of the Zrato, even those who yielded to the Zrato’s commands. If the great white beast did understand, it was far beyond any mortal explanation.

Grabbing a tether of the saddle, Zemorri pulled himself up on the hard cartilage of the wing. With careful footing, so as not to step on any delicate soft tissue, he climbed onto the saddle. As he leaned forward, the great white began to rise and take position.

“Vhaziek.” Zemorri’s voice called out.

The dragon pushed himself off the ground with enough force to shake the mortal plane. The glint of the lavender sheen in the webbing of his wings caught the sunlight. The wind whipped around Zemorri, making a mess of his nearly dry hair. He did not care. He couldn’t bring himself to. The empyrean was vast and unexplored, and his for the taking. Even the ringing of his golden bells was no longer bothersome.

Lifting himself into a low crouch, the air around him threatened to knock him off. A thunderous laugh escaped him. The great white shrieked alongside him, the rumble of it felt throughout his rider’s body. The Songbird grabbed the reins as the dragon flew higher and higher.

This was where Zemorri was meant to be, among the clouds, to soar like a bird freed from its cage.

Home.

Home wasn’t Khaaj’mar, the Dragon Hall, or even the small manor of the Dragon Master where he was raised. It was the open sky and wherever it might take him.

Looking down, he saw the Glistening Sea’s water below and made out the shape of a few fishing boats. Rising into a squat, Zemorri pulled on the reins, bidding the white to slow.

No better place. Give the fishermen something exciting to talk about for once.

“Gihra, Indiss. Gihra.” Zemorri shouted over the wind. The dragon did as commanded and halted, keeping a steady rhythm of his wings to stay in place. Standing up on the saddle, Zemorri dropped the reins. He stood, looking north. North to Ivaenia, to Zenier.

Nivra would not fall. It couldn’t.

Not when so much was at stake. Zemorri’s family, his friends, and the innocents who had no part in the King’s war. They were victims. Victims who would face the wrath of the Kings of Dawn for a crime that was not their own. Nivra would be spared, as much as it could be, and perhaps with enough support Zemorri could challenge the would-be usurper. If people believed the word of a bastard and his mother, they might rally to his cause.

And even if they didn't—

Zemorri pushed the thought from his mind. This was treason, and yet. And yet what? Had Xourlth not been treasonous in his fight for the throne? Had he not killed Zemorri’s half-siblings and his father? Had he not pushed the king to such desperation as to sire Zemorri onto his mother?

This was war, and a greater war was still yet to come.

Anger boiled within him. Anger, grief, and his own desperation. All it threatened to tear him apart.

And so, Zemorri leaped from the top of the dragon's back.

Zrato and Dragon stood side by side, watching the sun hit its apex. Zemorri tried his best to tame the wild, wind-blown mane on top of his head. Riding without his braid was one thing, but free-falling was another.

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

With a sigh, he let his arms fall to his side. The bells were put in before his appearance before the court, and gods knew when they would fall out. Perhaps they never would. Zemorri was not one to anger Zhareem; the god was merciful but not that merciful. If his deceit was to be so plain for all to see, he would wear them with pride. Or perhaps a shroud.

The wind began to pick up, tousling Zemorri’s hair. A twig snapped behind him; spinning on his heel, he instinctively went to unsheathe his blades. However, to his disappointment, they were back in his chambers. Surveying the small beach, he looked for any signs of someone, even looking at the dragon who was watching Zemorri.

Nothing. Nothing and no one.

Zemorri could sense something even still. Magic. Strong magic; he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. It was all around him, and yet there was no source. A shadowy figure appeared before him, beckoning him forward. An aura formed around the figure of a woman cloaked in darkness. Zemorri blinked and then blinked some more.

The world around him changed; he stood before a large window, and in the center of it was the woman, uncloaked in her full glory. Her chest heaved. The jewel-encrusted bodice of her gown glimmered in the light. She looked in awe at where Indiss stood, and Zemorri followed her gaze. Only there was no dragon in sight.

The woman took two steps towards him. Her hair was pale, paler even than her skin. Her ears pointed like the Zaentiraeal, though her eyes, however beautiful, were not of her kin. Zemorri’s breath caught in his chest. She was ethereal, perhaps even a goddess. She spoke, though he could only make out a few words: Zrato, Friend, Fate.

Not very helpful.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He spoke to her in the common tongue, betting by her appearance that she wouldn’t be well-versed in Vuli. She took two more steps closer, and he took two steps away.

“Friend or Foe?” Her voice clearer now, she eyed him warily. The light green of her eyes pierced into him. Zemorri looked at her; though against his better judgment, he gave her an answer.

“Friend.” He softened his tone. She took one more step closer, taking in the sight of him. The corner of her lips twitched up, revealing dimpled cheeks. She was shorter than he was, much shorter. And the allure of her, something so foreign, and yet so familiar. As if he knew her from some forgotten time.

“Are you—" Zemorri tried to translate, but the common tongue was so rarely used in his day-to-day life, “Hae’var? From the Gods?” She didn’t answer; instead, she stepped closer once more. Looking at him as if he was some oddity. She looked out behind him, and he followed her gaze, only to meet with a bedchamber filled to the brim with all sorts of comforts. A large bed, larger than his own, a small seating area, and bookcases from floor to ceiling. It felt too mortal to be the home of a Hae’var, at least from how he imagined the God-given guardians to live.

The woman took a step closer to him, and something lit inside him. Something he wasn’t sure had a name, but he felt it. In his heart, radiating to his entire body. Whoever she was, he had to protect her. Or perhaps she was to protect him. He reached out to graze her cheek but was met with nothing. He blinked, and it was all gone. He felt the sand return beneath his boots, the sound of the tide coming in.

His heart thundered too soon. She had vanished too soon. Zemorri turned to Indiss. The dragon flashed his teeth as if to smile. Looking between where the women had been and back to the dragon, a heaviness sank in his chest. Whether gods, fate, or some otherworldly being, he wasn’t sure, but one thing remained certain. Zemorri was being called upon to fulfill some greater task. A chill went down his spine.

Gods and Hells have mercy on me.

[therobotmonster]

In honor of he who died and rose after three days in the grave and now grants life ever lasting to his followers I thought it only right I got into the spirit once. So Dracula, this one's for you:

Just look at it.

You have what appears to be (and is) an accountant being menaced by boobalicious vampire women twice his size, so he's got Ethan Winters beaten to the punch by 34 years. But don't be fooled. One glance into his 30-yard stare and its obvious why only Mr. Weems can stop these sinister She-Vampires:

Weems is dead on the inside yet still living, where the she-vampires are animated from within with life, while dead.

He is their antithesis.

So yeah, a pile of jank with a fun name crossed my path, and now you all have to hear about it. If you're not hitting 'J', you have no one to blame but yourself.

Released on a scad of systems, but mostly the ZX Spectrum and the C64, The Astonishing Adventures of Mr. Weems & the She-Vampires is a sort of 'Gauntroidvania'. It's also trying to push the limits of how titillating a pre-NES era game could be, though the C64 port's interface missed that memo.

The hacked c64 version was the one I played, but giantbomb had a lot of gifs from the ZX verison that I've upscaled for demonstration purposes.

The only bit of story is from the back package. Weems wants to feel something, so he's decided to take on the Great She-Vampire or die in her buxom grasp. Fair.

This game is not recommended for people with epilepsy, dignity, or in general.

Mr. Weems has a garlic gun to defend his ever-dropping blood supply (vampire hunter is an odd professon with anemia) and destroy the baddies...

All three of them, which are all introduced on the first screen!

You've got bats, they pop out of pots and attack you.

The manual says these guys are Frankenstein's' monsters, but they're clearly the giant from Twin Peaks trying to warn you that you've bought a dud.

On the C64, the lesser she-vampires are clearly based on Dracula's brides, whereas on the ZX, they're more like ghosts with big naturals.

Which means that to get both kinds of vampire babe from the secondary cover, you'd have to buy a cassette for your c64, and and for your ZX. And I don't mean a cartridge, I mean a, Cassette tape.

If you manage to stalk your way all the way to the end and find the gear you need to destroy her, the Great She-Vampire awaits:

There's no boss fight, but there is a 1 pixel nip, at least on the ZX spectrum.

From there you book it back the way you came, only every screen now has a she-vampire chasing you in a murderous rage. Make it out, and you win. Or maybe you didn't, because just like the Dungeon of Fear and Hunger, you can never really escape Mr. Weems & the She-Vampires.

Only Weems increases the immersion by truamatizing you, the player. Mr. Weems is fine. You don't have to worry about the Weems.

So...

Is it a good game?

Not remotely, but that isn't the point in the slightest.

It's temping to say this is the Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies of video games, but that's not quite right. Weems has promise and ISCWSLaBMUZ doesn't make promises. It issues threats.

Mr. Weems has the charm of a concept that's all potential and zero execution. A dead-eyed accountant gunning his way in a Gauntlet-esq blitz through a vampire-babe infested castle is a fun idea, more-so with all the secret passages and 'gather items and backtrack to the boss' aspect. It's just everything else that goes wrong.

I mean, who doesn't want to hunt the Great She-Vampire to her penthouse for a good staking, I ask you?

[lindseybots]

Welcome to The Wind’s Track AU!

A lot of people have been stopping by to check this AU out, so I thought now was a good time to make a pinned post for this.

What is this AU?

This is a Legend of Zelda AU in which Link, the Hero of Winds from Wind Waker and Phantom Hourglass (nicknamed Wind in this AU), sticks around New Hyrule as a spirit after his life has reached its conclusion.

During his wanderings as a spirit one day, he went to check on his old pal Niko to find that Niko had taken in a baby named Link (nicknamed Spirit in this AU) whom he found washed ashore. This baby will eventually grow up to be the Hero of Spirits from Spirit Tracks. Wind is surprised at the matching name and almost identical appearance, but even more surprising than all of that is that this kid has the ability to see and hear him.

Basically, the ghost of the Hero of Winds helps raise the Hero of Spirits.

Don’t know where to start with exploring the AU? Try this, or try exploring some of the tags!

Important Links / Tags

Tags:

#The Wind’s Track AU

#The Wind’s Track

# WT AU

#WT Fanart

#WT Comic

#WT reference sheet

#Lindseybot answers

#WT Wind

#WT Spirit

(if you want to type these in manually, do it lowercased. Tumblr sometimes gets weird with the tags if you capitalize them.)

Links:

WT AU Collaborative Spotify Playlist (A Spotify playlist for the AU made with y’all’s help.)

Some WT AU Questions and Answers (under the break)

Q: Is this associated with Linked Universe?

A: No. While Linked Universe is a wonderful AU, the Wind’s Track is its own, separate AU. The events of Linked Universe DO NOT and NEVER WILL HAPPEN in the “canon” of this AU. If you would like to see a little more of my thoughts on that, please view this post.

Q: Can I post fanart, fanfics, etc. of this AU?

A: Absolutely! If you do, all I ask is that you credit me for the AU. (Also, please tag me so I can see it. 🤭) While on the subject, feel free to check out the tag #WT reference sheet if you’d like to see references of the characters within the context of the AU.

Q: Is there an official fic for this AU?

A: Unfortunately, no. I am not a confident writer. I have an Ao3 account (Lindseybot), but I never post fics on it. I, instead, use it to subscribe, leave kudos, leave comments, etc. I occasionally post little comics of the AU here on Tumblr, however.

Q: Will there be a full comic then?

A: As of now, I do not have any plans to do that. Not only is this AU still very early in development, but that would take a LONG time. With my current schedule being the way it is, it just wouldn't be feasible. Still, never say never. You never know what the future may hold. As of now, I plan to just occasionally post mini comics and art pieces that take place at any random point in the timeline of the AU.

Q: Can I use your art as an icon, banner, etc.

A: Sure!! I’m honored that you like my art enough to want to use it for that! Please just make sure to credit me!

Q: Can I send you asks? / Can I send you a lot of asks? / Can I send you suggestions?

A: PLEASE DO! Hearing from y'all makes me very happy. Anons are welcome too! If you decide to ask anonymously, I will give you an anon name. If you ask about a character’s shoes or something (as a silly example) I might dub you "Shoe Anon." Whether or not you use the name is up to you, but if you want to send another ask later and make it known to me that you are the same anon as from a previous ask you can be like: "Hey! It's Shoe Anon again! I have another question!"

Q: Why does Wind look young? Did he die young?

A: Nope! Don’t let his looks fool you. He may look no older than during the days of his adventures, but he actually lived a long, happy life. His adventures were the most impactful part of his life. As such, his appearance as a spirit is simply a reflection of that.

Q: What ships are in this AU?

A: ST Zelda x ST Link. If you want to see more of my thoughts on that, check out this post.

Q: What games will this AU cover content from?

A: This AU will contain spoilers for the following games:

The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker

The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass

The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks

Other games within the Legend of Zelda series are subject to be mentioned, but they are a lot less likely.

Q: The Spotify Playlist collaborator link isn’t working, but I want to be a collaborator. What do I do?

A: Not to worry! Spotify’s collaborator link always expires after seven days. We are forced to put up with that feature. Send me an ask about it. I’ll renew the link! :)

Q: I want to add a song to the playlist, but I don’t want anyone to know I was the one who added it. Is there still a way for me to add it?

A: That’s perfectly fine! Send me the song name and artist name through an anon ask. I’ll add it for you!

[warpedlegacywrites]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Thank you for this ask @blarrghe!

Swept Away: Josephine Montilyet/Isabela. M. 75,162 words. This project was a real labor of love from start to finish. It was also the first work I ever made a concentrated effort to finishing before I published it. And the result, I think, is all the stronger for it. I adore this pairing as well, and I'm not usually given to rare pairs, but these two just sing to me. They fit so perfectly together, and I had so much fun imagining how that might happen. Major thanks to @rakshadow for being my ever-patient and ever-wise beta. And to @theluckywizard for the lovely artwork she contributed. You both helped this story take shape!

Lead Her Through the Darkness: Genfic. T. 3,121 words. One-shot. This was my first gift fic for an OC swap exchange, and I swear from start to finish I was possessed with this character. Ixchel is such an amazing protagonist and the symbolism around her, especially her name, felt such a vital piece of that, I wanted to explore that a bit. I am humbled and honored that @dreadfutures has taken this idea and run with it in her own canon. <3

Seeker, It's Cold Outside: Varric Tethras/Cassandra Pentaghast. T. 5,242 words. One-shot. Writing vitriolic banter is like 95% of the reason why I adore this pairing so much. Their dynamic is so messy, doomed from the start, but no less worthy of a story to be told just because the ending I foresee for them isn't an unambiguously happy one. It's moments like this one where I see them able to unpack themselves a little bit around each other, and that's so important for them both.

Fiercely Perish: Dorian Pavus/The Iron Bull. M. 23,033 words. Die Hard, but in Thedas. This was an April Fool's Day fic some years ago, and it remains a fic I look on fondly for how much unbridled fun it was to write. I especially love people recognizing the source material as they read and leave comments. It brings me such joy. This is also probably one of the sillier fics I've written, and I don't give myself the opportunity to lean into humor as often as angst. This is just. Fun. It's fun. I love it. ^_^

While Time Remains: Series. Cullen Rutherford/OC!mage!Trevelyan. M. 189,699 words, 2/4 planned arcs published. WIP. I'm cheating a little bit on this one since it's a series rather than one isolated fic. But the series is one continuous story, so I think I can count that. This was the series I turned to when I stalled on my main DAI-timeline longfic. Writing this gave me a chance to finally sink my teeth into the Cullen/Theresa pairing that I was longing for so badly with my main fic's slow burn. It also helped me really start to shape my voice as a writer, learning how to pace a story so that one arc felt complete while still being part of a greater whole. And it helped me discover my strengths as a writer, and grow in my confidence. But more than that, I was able to develop Theresa and Cullen's relationship beyond my wildest dreams. They've grown just as much as I have throughout the course of writing and planning this story for them, that was only originally conceived as a sweet and lighthearted domestic fluff series of vignettes. An epic, vast-sweeping story has grown out of those humble origins, and I can't wait until it's all finished and published so people can enjoy it in its entirety! ^_^

[bionicle-ramblings]

Onto our boy himself:

Onewa!

@chancetimespace I hope I did him justice!😅

I mentioned in the intro post he was trying to get his honor back and make a name for himself.

Before the AU takes place, he was actually a renowned carver and was working his way into knighthood, as he was skilled with handling weapons and was pretty well known for building statues and a few buildings. People had a lot of respect for him, knew he was someone that was reliable, even though he often had a chip on his shoulder. By all accounts, he was honored as a skilled architect and an artist. He was also able to support his family(namely his parents and younger siblings) pretty easily, and had really made something of himself.

So what happened?

A night where the village was attacked and he not only worked alongside a fugitive to save everyone, but then also didn't think to capture or alert the guards that the fugitive was even there in the first place. And when he tried explaining what had really happened, most people didn't believe him, as a rival carver who saw everything twisted the events and spread it like wild fire. It cost him just about everything, as his titles of artist, carver, builder, etc, were all stripped from him and his family was left in shambles. Hard times fell on them and most family members blamed him for it, doing so to his face and behind his back.

The only one who really believed him and was still in his corner was his friend Matau, who had heard what happened from his travels(we'll get there when we get there), and offered what he could to support his friend, even offering to helping supporting his family and offered Onewa an easy way out; "Long-travel with me! You never know! People in the North love a good share-story, especially when the hero's someone like them!"

As much as he appreciated it, he turned both down and instead did whatever work he could, much of it being physically taxing for hum and not paying well because people knew who he was and didn't really trust him.

He started getting ideas when someone from a group of ten returned from a journey, being in pure hysterics and going on about a princess locked in a castle and being guarded by a dragon, one that was cunning and ruthless and killed the rest of his group. The dragon also guards a vault, but no one's been able to get close enough to it.

While everyone fretted about an unstoppable creature and a poor girl doomed to die in its clutches, Onewa really got to thinking about what he'd heard and tracked down the princess's family, who revealed their daughter was indeed trapped, having been trapped under a curse and now with a dragon, and they don't have the means to rescue her; everyone they send winds up never returning.

It's here that Onewa offers himself and himself alone to take on the task: he will rescue the princess and bring her home and defeat the dragon, but in return, he wants the treasure in the vault and he wants to be able to be a carver again. They are skeptical on letting him go through with it, but Onewa never mentions that in saving someone who really might need help, he'll get his honor back and show that he's good for something. And if he fails, at least Matau will mourn him.

After some negotiations and talking, the family agrees and Onewa prepares for his trek and his mission. His own family is even more livid, but this time it's the kind of anger where you don't know how to express that you're scared for your son/brother, so it comes off more as, "You're a fool and an idiot and this will literally be the end of you," rather than, "We don't want you to do this because what if we never see you again?"

The only one to really voice the latter is his sister, who makes him promise he'll come home.

With that, he leaves, and everyone has now heard what he's planning to do and equally bid their farewells and wish him luck, as he really is going to need it.

He's not alone, though: Matau has tagged along and won't be leaving because if Onewa wins against this dragon, he wants to see it, and the GLORY it will bring them both is terrific to even think about: "They'll cheer-hail us! Write songs! Drink-toast our names! WE CAN HAVE OUR OWN STATUES!"

[vacantgodling]

worthless war

You never learn his name.

Your thoughts have already devolved into the most basic of actions to sustain you along. Eat. Sleep. Forward. Retreat. Swing. Parry. Kill.

There is a reason generals do not wear helmets. Their matted, blood soaked hair used to be windswept and glorious. They bark orders and their pawns follow; the matted grass of stinking, rotting corpses, the board of a most convoluted game of chess. In the beginning, how foolish your company thought, should you make it behind enemy lines that you would become kings. It didn’t take long to realize it didn’t work that way. That eyes cast up to the heavens stayed that way, glassy and unseeing in their swift death.

Your eyes weren’t adept at seeing anymore. Your helmet made the world dark and despairing, a fitful mirror to the fruitlessness of this Worthless War. It was a war of pride, not a war of glory. By the time you entered the fray, any semblance of morality had long fled; back to the homeland where praises were sung of a warrior’s valor and the duty of the sword. There was no honor in this place.

Except.

You met him when a stab to the side, under the chink of your chain mail made you kneel. In the centre of the battlefield, you knelt there, statuesque and unseeing. Was it your time to die? Maybe. You were so tired. This war has taken everything from you. You could still see the face of your dear sweet Lucasta*, rosy faced and bright, cheerful and kind. You had not kissed for she was chaste, but you held her hands tender as a newborn babe and bid her farewell.

I will return a hero! You said—what a fool you had been! Young and suckling like a calf to a teat; you knew not what awaited you, young lamb to the slaughter. You knew not of how this war would betray you.

But you felt an arm raise you up.

No words were spoken, only the gleam of his sword in his hand in the sunlight. His helmet was impasse, but his arm that held you felt like warmth, felt like summer, felt like the joy of a child. You leant heavily into him, and he supported you, and took you far away from the battlefield.

It was the first thought you’d had since your mind fell away some time ago. Where are we going? You could ask. Are we advancing? Retreating? How else would you know your place in line? Are you God? If perhaps, you were religious. You weren’t. But maybe you were—if only for the way he sat you squarely down on a rock in some remote and desolate field in some forgotten daydream. Even if the war raged, the clashes of swords and armor not too far off on the horizon, it was a muted murmur this far away. The war but a distant night terror. Your body felt lighter than air, your head clear yet clouded, perhaps it was the dizziness from blood loss.

He didn’t speak, but his hands were verbose. He left your helmet fast to your skull, but pulled you out of your armor, piece by piece. What an intimate ritual—you oft used to think of undressing Lucasta when the two of you were finally wed should you make it back from this war. From her corset and over skirts, to her chemise, her stockings; to unearth what bounty lay beneath cotton coverings, just the same as he unlatched your breastplate. Cool hands spread across your collar and chest, then came to the side just underneath your arm where blood, thick and viscous, stuck like molasses to your skin.

Where he retrieved water when rations were low, you didn’t know. For so long you have just been some spectral floating thing; only manifesting as a sword for your general to wield. But now you felt horribly human; your mouth dry with thirst and caked with dirt and grime and the sins of taking life after life. Heaven knew no prayers would wash you clean, but he did. He washed your wound and dressed it as best he could. He ripped pieces and pieces of his own spare shirt and wrapped them round and round your body, pressing until the blood stopped. Until the blood rushed from your head south at the novelty of another’s touch, never mind the touch was a man. This was the touch of your savior; your holiness, your shining grace given from Lucasta’s Lord above.

“W…” You managed to croak, and he stopped his ministrations. If you had hydration enough for tears, perhaps you would’ve shed them. Don’t stop. You wanted to say. Those glorious touches that reminded you that you were alive and a soul and part of this world. “Why…” Your voice was no louder than a field mouse.

Behind his helmet, he didn’t say a thing. Not a grunt, not a hum, not a word. He only kept dressing your wound. Round and round he twirled those makeshift bandages, and you imagined Lucasta on your long awaited wedding day, twirling in your arms as the blushing bride she ought to be. But here, and bare, and carnal, you felt you ought to be the bride. Why shouldn’t you receive such tenderness of a strong hand to your lips or touch to your brow? Why shouldn’t you linger in this comforting daydream where you were just a man, and the knight dressing you was another, and in the hay of this little barn of innocence you sullied it with passions that Lucasta’s God would blush at?

You gripped his hands, hissing as he bade you stand. It was always easier to suit standing. When he returned the chinks of your breastplate and tightened it fast, it was every deceleration of love you could ever hear. It was a proposal, a wedding, devotion divine. You took his hand. He gave you your sword. He led you back to the battlefield. Your thoughts returned lifeless, but when he took his place next to you in formation, your mind bloomed with flowers; roses and daffodils and forget-me-nots; an endless springtime where he knew your scars and perhaps, you knew his.

And as all evils do, the Worthless War drew to a close.

There was no grand finale. No heroes of lore or legend were born out of this war. You stood at the foothills of your hometown, with nothing but a small ration, and a few bits of coins for the trouble of it all.

You returned to Lucasta. She knew the light in your eyes dimmed. She spoke to you of the wedding, of babies, of summertime—but your life was paused; ever stuck and transfixed at that moment he took you aside to patch your wound. Suspended in that one shred of humanity that you felt in that moment, and the lingering warmth that you felt after, for the days and weeks until the war came to an end. He never spoke, but he was always by your side, and you fastly to his.

Your head was bare, but your soul never took off its helmet. At night, you lay awake with Lucasta’s head pressed delicately to your chest, dreaming of the metallic hiss of his breath in and out as he undressed your soul.

some footnotes:

* = the name Lucasta i lifted from the 17th century poet Richard Lovelace as the meaning is “pure light”. in this piece Lucasta serves two roles: as the bride to be the protagonist has waiting back home, but also represents his innocence that the war has taken from him. how even though he’s returned home and has his former life waiting for him how he can never truly regain that innocence.

[lesliesmemes]

the ballad of songbirds & snakes (novel) sentence starters.

feel free to adjust as needed. please read with caution.

‘ it’s practically a holiday! ’

‘ stop worrying. ’

‘ puncture wounds never bleed long. ’

‘ i was trying for respectful yet celebratory. ’

‘ always an honor to be of service. ’

‘ it’s a new law. ’

‘ you all right? you just went white as a sheet. ’

‘ i saw a snake! ’

‘ did she kill her? ’

‘ don’t cry. ’

‘ nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping. ’

‘ you can kiss my ass & then keep on walking. ’

‘ my friends call me [name]; i hope you will too! ’

‘ no one would know better than i. ’

‘ if it was me, anything you could do to make me feel like you cared about me would go a long way. ’

‘ tastes like bedtime. ’

‘ you look like you shouldn’t be here. ’

‘ ah, a rebel. ’

‘ i do my best to take care of you. ’

‘ they never found out who did it. ’

‘ i might need him. ’

‘ own it. ’

‘ would you care to meet a few of my neighbors? ’

‘ i brought along a friend of mine today. ’

‘ that snake was a particular friend of mine. ’

‘ polka dots always make me feel happy. ’

‘ after i heard you sing, i couldn’t keep away. ’

‘ you’re not allowed in there. ’

‘ i’ve got a good feeling about this one. ’

‘ i have a great many things to learn. ’

‘ none of them trust me. ’

‘ are those sandwiches for anybody? ’

‘ now it’s like a picnic. ’

‘ i was thinking it might be a good idea for you to sing again. ’

‘ i do so love to sing. ’

‘ birds in the heavens know i love you. ’

‘ thanks for stepping up. ’

‘ that seems like an odd pastime. ’

‘ i’m so blameless i’m choking on it. ’

‘ she’s a wily little thing who began to manipulate you the minute you met. ’

‘ [name], you need to get more sleep. ’

‘ human beings may not be perfect, but we’re better than that. ’

‘ most of us don’t want to watch other people suffer. ’

‘ i make my living entertaining people. ’

‘ i’ll sing you a few bars backstage. ’

‘ did you write that song yourself? ’

‘ none of them can hold a candle to you. ’

‘ she’s playing with fire there. ’

‘ i couldn’t save her. i couldn’t stop the blood. ’

‘ working kept me from freaking out. ’

‘ will she die? ’

‘ you must hate me. you should. i would hate me. ’

‘ don’t leave me to go through this alone! ’

‘ my condolences on the loss of your friend. ’

‘ it’s a difficult day for all of us. ’

‘ i can’t eat today. ’

‘ you’re quite the rebel. ’

‘ enjoy the show! ’

‘ i like your voice. ’

‘ she saved my life, i think. ’

‘ it’s just the kind of story that catches fire. ’

‘ it’s not safe. ’

‘ we’re not safe! ’

‘ you could start by thinking i can actually win. ’

‘ we think of a strategy. ’

‘ you find me a guitar? ’

‘ there’s an empty seat by me. ’

‘ i thought the war was over. ’

‘ it’s not immoral to defend ourselves. ’

‘ i trust your girl. ’

‘ when i was a girl, i fell into your arms. ’

‘ you stole & you gambled & i said you should. ’

‘ just let me remind you who i am to you. ’

‘ for when the bell rings, lover, you’re on your own. ’

‘ now what will you do when i go to my grave? ’

‘ new song? ’

‘ she is a performer, after all. ’

‘ people love a good love song. ’

‘ people are fools. ’

‘ there are a lot of romantics. ’

‘ i loved how it proved me right. ’

‘ i come bearing gifts. ’

‘ i feel more hopeful in the daytime, but when it gets dark, i get so afraid. ’

‘ take me with you. ’

‘ the only boy my heart has a sweet spot for now is you. ’

‘ it will be over quickly. ’

‘ we’re all a mess. ’

‘ you’re monsters! all of you! ’

‘ things will pick up. they have to. ’

‘ i almost feel sorry for him. ’

‘ doesn’t look so tough to me. ’

‘ is the whole city up? ’

‘ i need to stop causing you trouble. ’

‘ what makes you think i could do that? ’

‘ thanks for having our backs! ’

‘ i can walk, no thanks to you! ’

‘ i think i underestimated how much they hate us. ’

‘ i wanted them dead. i wanted every one of them dead. ’

‘ chaos happens. what else is there to say? ’

‘ oh, don’t let him die alone. ’

‘ he declined to comment. ’

‘ you’re heartless. ’

‘ the only thing you are is brave. ’

‘ she’s smarter than she looks. ’

‘ why haven’t you made this public? ’

‘ this is a surprisingly warm welcome for the person who almost destroyed you! ’

‘ some girl will be singing. ’

‘ i should’ve warned you about the birds. ’

‘ kill two birds with one stone. ’

‘ sometimes hungry people need music the most. ’

‘ do you like sweets? ’

‘ you made your choice. ’

‘ just spending some time with my girl. ’

‘ you’re mine & i’m yours. it’s written in the stars. ’

‘ he’s a liar & a louse. ’

‘ this is the price they pay. ’

‘ we’ll just perch here until they shoo us off. ’

‘ i hate to think of them caged up, when they’ve had a taste of freedom. ’

‘ sounds like torture, having someone controlling your voice like that. ’

‘ do you always feel free to speak your mind, [name]? ’

‘ i think you should say what you think. ’

‘ it’s a mystery, sweetheart. just like me. ’

‘ that’s why it’s my song. ’

‘ snakes like it there. ’

‘ maybe my freedom is worth the risk. ’

‘ trust is important. ’

‘ i think trust is more important than love. ’

‘ i love all kinds of things i don’t trust. ’

‘ i trust you, though. ’

‘ [name] feeds on sweet. ’

‘ you been with her, that’s what i’ve heard. ’

‘ i’ll sell you for a song. ’

‘ thought we agreed this was between us. ’

‘ she’s my girl. ’

‘ we’ve got no quarrel with you. ’

‘ always keep that last bullet somewhere safe. ’

‘ you were never here. ’

‘ you’re pure as the driven snow. ’

‘ i told you to run so we'd both be free. ’

‘ no stranger would it be if we met up at midnight in the hanging tree. ’

‘ i’ll miss the music & my pretty birds. ’

‘ i think there’s a natural goodness born into us all. you can either cross that line into evil or not. but it’s our life's work to stay on the right side of that line. ’

‘ you said you killed three people this summer. ’

‘ i killed the old me to come with you. ’

‘ i’m not made of sugar. ’

‘ it’s not too late to work something out. ’

‘ our essential nature is violent. ’

‘ your little songbird. was she sad to see you go? ’