#which fits with some of the only things we know about the sword and the shield | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trensu · 9 months

Text

Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants.

The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.

“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.

“Uh…a good one?”

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.

They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.

Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.

"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration.

Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.

"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"

"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."

Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.

"That's weird," Dustin said.

"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.

"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.

"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."

"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."

"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.

"Guys! Guys, what about my..."

The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.

"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."

Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.

"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.

Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."

"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."

It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.

The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.

It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.

By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.

He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.

His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.

"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.

"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."

Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.

"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."

Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.

Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.

When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.

“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.

“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me.

“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it.

“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”

There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.

–

Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.

Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.

A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond.

Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.

“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second!”

“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.

“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.

“I’m not a lord.”

“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”

“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”

The man laughed at him outright.

“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”

Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.

“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”

“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”

“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”

“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.”

“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.

“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”

“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”

“Kind of.”

“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”

“Your god is the King of Dark–”

“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”

The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.

“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.

“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”

The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

–

It happened again.

now with an additional snippet here and here

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #i don't even know what to call this #it's an idea i'm playing with but i don't know how well it works #if you're curious about the setting so am i!#if you figure it out do me a favor and tell me what it is #i have more written but it's not done #i'm hoping to post it as a oneshot on ao3 when i finish it #IF i finish it #we'll see i guess #ETA #came up with a title/tag for this #stasis in darkness

2K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 7 months

Note

I finished the medieval Ghost drawing and I drew what I imagined the Royal Crest to look like. The chainmail wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Fun to draw 10/10 would recommend.

Let's fucking goooo, that's my MAN!!! I could stare at this for fucking hours, I'm going to stare at it for hours, thank you. Also the crest?? The Crest???? So good.

God!!! The hand on the leg(too far up to be proper I see u Ghost) and the way he's sort of bowing to her like I can feel the emotion in my teeth I want to eat this. Have some fic.

"You're wearing your helm," you keep your voice low, hardly moving your head to speak to the knight behind you. This is one of those tedious things you have to do sometimes. You stand with your seated parents as they hear the people's complaints, and try not to think about how you would handle things. You're supposed to be pretty, not smart. Although you are smart, and you do have ideas, you're expected to keep them to yourself.

"Didn't want to show you up," Ghost jokes, voice as monotone as ever. You smile a little to yourself.

"If you're so much prettier than me, you can take over being the show pony," you joke back.

"And rob the kingdom of seeing you all dressed up? Wouldn't dream of it," you can hear the slight chuckle in his voice, it's a comfort. Having Ghost nearby is always a comfort. He has such a way of calming you, keeping you from pulling to far into yourself. He treats you like a person, not a princess, when you need him to.

"I'd quite enjoy seeing you in a dress, something to emphasize your waist maybe?" Although finding something to fit his broad shoulders might be a bit more tricky. All that swinging a sword around has certainly built him a nice physique. It's silly, but the thought makes your placid princess smile a little more genuine.

"What do you know about my waist?" He asks, you can still hear his amusement in his tone. That's good, you'd hate to offend him.

"Only what I've seen of it," you hum.

"Sneaking peaks are we?" He clicks his tongue and the sound reverberates through your bones, you feel it like he's physically touched you the way it slides down your spine, "Naughty girl."

You tell yourself he's only joking, but that doesn't dull your reaction. Heat blooms over your cheeks, you swallow the feeling that wells in your chest, and wet your lips. Does he know he can take you apart with just those two words? That the depth in his tone, the growl in his voice, makes you want to melt where you stand?

You turn to tell him you absolutely were not sneaking peaks, and that even if you did happen to it would only have been while you were on the road together. Which you hardly think counts considering there's hardly any privacy when camping anyway. You catch your mother's glare at the first twitch from you. You keep your eyes forward and do your best not to pout.

"If you stand there nice and pretty like a good girl I'll tell you why I'm wearing my helm," Ghost never whispers, but he speaks so that his voice doesn't carry. You watch your mother for any sign that she's listening, and she hardly bats an eye. You suppose you're both far enough back, and her attention is far enough forward, to grant you some level of privacy. You give the barest hint of a nod for your knight, and he lets out a breath.

"Good," Maybe one word is all he needs, you like the way he says it, the way it brushes over your skin. He's quiet for a long while. Two people get up to air their grievances before he speaks again. It's long enough that you almost want to ask, to jog his memory. If you didn't know better you might squirm.

"Wanted to make sure I wasn't caught staring," He tells you finally.

"What are you looking at?" You smile to hide the quick twitch in your brows. It's not like Ghost to be distracted doing his duties, you wonder what-

"You're clever, what do you think I'm looking at?" His voice is so thick you wonder how he was able to speak at all. You take stock of the room, the throng of people and servants. His eyes should be everywhere, there's only one place they truly shouldn't be. On you.

You can feel them, the weight of his gaze as it travels over you. You can feel where it settles: your waist, your hips, your chest, your neck, your lips. You let out a breath and know his eyes have settled on the movement of it. How are you supposed to survive the rest of this interminable function with his eyes on you like this?

"I am clever aren't I," You tell him, knowing the way he hums in assent will do nothing to stop the heat that follows his gaze.

"You are."

It's strange how you can have so many eyes on you and never feel their pressure, but knowing your knight is watching makes you almost self conscious. You can feel every brush of your skirt, every shift in your posture that your breath brings, every little twitch in your body magnified under Ghost's watchful eye. You haven't wanted to fidget since you were a child, and yet here you are. Your skin crawling, your bones begging to move, if for no other reason than to give Ghost something to look at, some reason to watch you.

Suddenly you're not standing for your parents, or out of duty to your position, you're standing for him. And that's so much different isn't it? You can't move, can't directly speak to Ghost, and though your fingers ache to touch him neither of you would dare. What pleasure does he get from this?

More so, how is it so pleasant for you?

You wonder if he looks at you often, if he likes what he sees. You wonder if he has favorite dresses, favorite jewelry, if he ever hopes you'll wear something again. You wonder if he has favorite parts of you, if he likes your eyes as much as you like his, if he thinks about your hands as often as you do his. You hope he does. You hope he looks at you and thinks of you sweetly.

It's all either of you gets.

548 notes · View notes

love-geeky-fangirl · 3 months

Text

I don't understand where this: "Rory is used to people treating her as the center of the universe." thing is coming from.

She is literally just a normal girl from a small town and in small towns people know each other, hence why the townspeople greet her and her mother and try to find out the tea about them. As someone who lives in a small town, I know how much people there love to gossip, so it is very realistic. Also notice how most of the townspeople paying attention to Rory are either her mother's friends who will obviously have an emotional attachment to her since they watched her grow up or people like Taylor who directly want something from her (to guilt her into volunteering for town events). She is not a town celebrity by any means.

Yes, her family on her mother side loves her and spoils her but that is nothing unusual. People forget that the family on her father's side doesn't love her and they even see her as "a mistake" or even "an embarrassment".

Her teachers seem to like her a normal amount but that's only because she's good in school and stays out of trouble, but you never see teachers fawning over her and let her get away with things when she gets into serious trouble (like missing the test or breaking into school to ring that bell). I don't remember a single instance when a teacher gave Rory some kind of extra treatment just because she's "the center of the universe" as antis love to claim.

And as for her peers, she is literally not popular! She struggles socially at school and we are shown that in the pilot in Stars Hollow high and in Chilton. Her only friend is Lane, other girls in SHH call her a nerd and raise their eyebrows at her, in Chilton she doesn't fit in among the rich spoiled kids and is constantly seen sitting alone at lunch and she is surprised by Dean's and Tristan's attention because it is the first time that guys are giving her any attention! She even can't believe it at first, that's how not used to it she is.

I am writing all of this because a video I watched yesterday breaking down Gilmore Girls season by season said that "Logan's parents are the first people that didn't treat Rory like the center of the universe" which is plain untrue, there were plenty of people before that- the girls from the pilot were taunting Rory behind her back for being a nerd, Mrs Kim doesn't like Rory, girls at Chilton especially Paris hated Rory at first, didn't Headmaster Charleston literally threaten to expell Rory because she was struggling with grades and then threw a fit when she missed her test?, Rory's own father seems very indifferent to her and when he shows up he pays more attention to Lorelei than her, her paternal grandparents hate her and call her "a mistake" to her face, Lindsay didn't like Rory simply because she is her boyfriend's ex even before they started their affair, that guy from the laundry room that rejected her ... need I go on?

So no, Rory isn't some kind of child star or wunderkind that everyone fawns over, she is just a girl that adults around her like a normal amount because she is smart and stays out of trouble, but also keep in mind that when she actually does act out or get in trouble, she falls off the pedestal and people are not very forgiving. It is a double edged sword. But to claim that she is some kind of celebrity or Queen Bee of Stars Hollow is just plain wrong.

#rory gilmore defense #gilmore girls

159 notes · View notes

riizebabie444 · 6 months

Text

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 🩶

🩶 ─── in this reading, we will explore the qualities of the careers and fields you are best suited for, suggested careers for you and other career messages meant for you.

🩶 ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

🩶 ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

🩶 ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚

this is a random message but it is very clear. for some or most of you, the career or field you are wishing to go into at the moment, or the one you are already in, is the right one for you. there is also a message to explore your creative potential. it doesn't necessarily mean creating art like music, writing, paintings etc (although that may be true for some of you) it could also mean creative problem solving, a job which requires you thinking outside the box. working in a field where things are done differently to others in the industry. the image i have in mind is google. they do a lot to encourage creativity and the birth of new ideas. you'd fit best in a career which nurtures and encourages your creative side.

it's also best to be in a career where there is the opportunity to grow in every aspect, and to further your position over the years. for example, i don't think you'd feel comfortable and happy in a job where you stay in the same position for years doing the same thing every single day. some people are happy in those jobs. they like the stability and routine. however, you need a job where you can always learn new things and progress. i'm seeing progression is also important to you. it's important to go into a job where you have more opportunities to climb up the ladder, and it doesn't even need to be all about promotions. a job where you regularly switch tasks, or have new projects to work on. as long as you aren't doing the same things every day, you should avoid jobs which do.

a job where you can express the qualities of success and confidence. where you can prove to yourself and others that you are fully capable. it could also be a career which puts you in the public eye. something that makes you feel seen and appreciated. again, promotions are here. you want a job where you can progress to high places. perhaps even becoming a figure of leadership and authority. you may not be confident about such a position right now but when you find something you love and excel in, you would be the right fit for a leader. and for a number of you, caregiving roles may be good for you. it could be anything from nursing to therapy.

okay so here is where it gets a bit negative. with the three of swords you may experience job losses, or disappointment in being rejected from jobs. it could also indicate that you may end up stuck in a very stressful job and toxic work environment. you want to avoid places like that. however, i believe some of you may need to experience it in order to know what is the right or wrong job and workplace for you. and for a number of you i get the message that even though it is difficult and stressful, and the workplace is not good for your mental health, it will not last. you will find a better job or get promoted and belong in a much better space. so if you ever find yourself in that position, have hope that it will improve. i think it is also a message, especially if you are a leader, to not allow a toxic work environment to foster as it is your duty to ensure it is safe and healthy for everyone to work in.

enterprises might also be something you would work well in. i'm seeing representing small or local businesses, as well as larger corporations for a number of you. it could also be setting up your own business. for some of you, you may have a typical job in mind in order to pay your bills and support a family, but deep down you have a dream of having your own business or brand. at one point or another, you might be torn between keeping your job to pay your bills or leaving it all behind and investing in your own business. i think either is fine, however, for most of you who this applies too, the message is to find a balance between the two. you can work full time and have a passion project/business on the side. work on it slowly and over the years it will blossom, i'm hearing. it is crucial you do not pick between the two and instead find a balance.

to add the obvious, you may dream of being your own boss. and i think you would do amazing things as a leader, however, you still need some sort of discipline or balance from elsewhere. if you're your own boss for too long, you can easily get lazy and complacent. so it is important for you to keep a job elsewhere to ensure you don't lose routine or dedication.

one last message is to expect times of change in your career as much as you should expect times of stagnation. any job you have, you will experience boredom at times and excitement at other times. you need to hear this. jobs are not one dimensional. you should expect many things from your career, both good and bad. so don't get your hopes up too high and don't get too disheartened when things don't go your way.

suggested careers/fields: project manager, hair dresser/hair salon owner, investments, influencer, working up the ladder, franchise owner, higher education, professor, networking, entrepreneur, business law, accountant for local businesses, nursing, social worker, therapist, counsellor, childcare, HR, arts and fashion, selling and/or creating luxury goods, beauty guru, acting, admin, consulting, writer, researcher.

cards: high priestess, the empress, six of wands, three of swords, two of pentacle, wheel of fortune

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤

i'm immediately hearing decision making. for some of you, a job where you can make the decisions would be good however for most, i am seeing that you may not fit best in careers where important decisions fall in your lap. to get one thing straight, every career will involve decision making at one point or another. but some careers involve very important decision making and i believe when you have too many important decisions to make on a regular basis, you can become very stressed. perhaps you are an indecisive person. overall, i think working in a position that requires heavy decision making would not be the best. however, if you are working with others to make decisions, i think it would be a good career for you.

for most of you, if not all, you will find success in the career of your taking. and for a lot of you, the cards are representing another person in regards to your career. a colleague or a business partner. if you dream of being your own boss, perhaps you would do well sharing this dream with someone else. it could also be a colleague. your career will lead to you meeting someone important. or vice versa, you will meet someone and they will help you get a really good job, the job of your dream. of course be careful, because people who help others often want help in return later down the line.

communication is a key theme here. a job which requires you to communicate your thoughts and ideas. for example, sharing stories as a writer, or even as an academic writer sharing research, or in law by communicating and mediating for your clients. i think for some of you, you would like a position of power. and for others you may not. for those who do, you would do well to use your power and authority for others rather than not doing so. you'd find more fulfilment and success by helping others. and mediating also. taking on communication responsibilities for third parties would be a good career for you. for example, an agent who helps people find jobs and corporations to find employees. hosting job interviews for the people you work for. even ghost-writing, communicating on behalf of the client. again with law. you may also enjoy the feeling of being responsible for transfers, employees, assets, moving companies. anything that involves moving one thing from one place to another.

i'm seeing disputes/conflict. perhaps you may deal with this a lot in your work environment or otherwise, it could mean your career typically involves this. i'm seeing HR settling an issue between employees. things like that. you might naturally be drawn to conflict or drama, and if not you are just interested in it. therefore, a position which allows you to be involved in it as an outsider would be interesting to you. there would always be something new to keep you on your toes. and you would feel very gratified after helping others solve their problems. in environments where there is lack of communication and poor leadership, you would fit in well in the role of solving these issues. it's very much a behind the scenes job but it is incredibly valuable to companies.

you need a job which will not disturb your work life balance. it's best to only take on a career which does not require you to work overtime, or where workload leaks into your private time and life. it is important to have a job where you can work hard, but only within the working hours. a job where you can give fair and honest work and feel appreciated enough to have your own time to spend with loved ones and yourself.

a job where you can always remain unbiased. you may feel uncomfortable picking sides so a place which encourages objectivity would be a good fit for you. you might also enjoy jobs in health and fitness. somewhere that encourages others to do their best. teaching, also. law and order are important also.

a slow paced environment would be perfect for you. fast paced might lead to high levels of stress. so slow paced is better. successful careers are built over time. you're not too fussed about seeing amazing results straight away because you know the best results always come after long and consistent efforts. so jobs which require you to be very patient would be good. you expect all of your work to pay off in the future. because of this, i also thing agricultural industries may be good. the final message is to not be swayed by other people's thoughts and opinions. there may be some people who have hidden motives with you and your career. you may struggle to make good decisions and not know who to trust which may end up with you trusting the wrong people. be careful, and hone in on your intuition because it will help you in the most crucial times of your career.

suggested careers/fields: animal care, justice system, politics, judge, lawyer, sales person, guidance counsellor, public speaking, doctor (not specifically medical but in other fields), self-employed, problem solving, mediator, HR, teacher, auditor, law, financial institutions, health and fitness, farming, gardening/landscaping, charity worker, social worker, engineer, scientist, STEM, activist, telecommunication, journalism, trading, public relations, events manager, customer service, liaison.

cards: the magician, the sun, two of swords rv, five of swords, justice, seven of pentacles, high priestess rv

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

overall, this pile feels quiet and mellow. so i think calm jobs that don't involve too much excitement would be good for you. a job that doesn't require far too much effort from you, but you still know exactly what you are doing in the job. which is funny because most of the cards suggest otherwise, but the vibes i'm feeling are different. i randomly heard "beware of snakes" so maybe it is that you want to avoid bad vibes from others. you want to do well and have the personality and potential to perform incredibly (it is represented by the two aces and the magician) but you are afraid of attracting jealousy from others. most of you may believe in nazar, or the evil eye. you want to do well quietly, staying humble and not gaining too much attention from others.

you might want to avoid the overly friendly workplaces, the companies that tell you "we're all like family" because odds are your coworkers will be all up in your business when you don't want them to be. and more often that not, they may not like to see of hear about you doing well. of course, you can choose whichever company you want yo work for, this is all subjective. however, the message is strong here to not let coworkers get too close. if you feel like you need to be cautious, do not doubt it at all. jobs where you can work independently or remotely may be good for you. i think you enjoy the responsibilities and the isolation you can get from those jobs. you can really focus on your own work instead of worrying about socialising and networking (which are important, don't get me wrong but i think you are not the type of person to be heavily involved in such activities).

technology and IT. jobs where you're required to use your brain. you need mental and intellectual stimulation so jobs which require lots of brainwork would be great for you. also jobs which require you to have a sharp and quick mind, and even a quick tongue. a job where you need to respond quickly, on the spot. maybe as a lawyer or judge. i think you are the type of person who tends to avoid making decisions but i believe the best career for you would involve you needing to make decisions as a part of it.

i also see jobs where you can provide stability for others as well as providing stability for yourself. this could mean that setting up your own business to help or guide others would give you a lot of satisfaction. such as a personal trainer, life coach, dietician etc anything that will allow you to improve the lives of others. you could even be thinking of starting your own sales company. i'm seeing a position where you are calm, smart, and powerful. logical and rational, and also honest. key organisational abilities here, like secretarial duties. a job where you can keep things organised tightly.

there is a huge duality here. like, i see you craving to be a bold and confident person in your ideal job, someone who is admired by others but in reality you are afraid to be that person. maybe you are not used to being in the spotlight and you're not ready to start now. so you must find a balance between the two. you can be confident without needing to be in the spotlight. i think your biggest fear in regards to career is conflict. you want to avoid uneasy workplace relationships. you don't want to be too close with your coworkers but at the same time you don't want to be left out. you want to perform well and show off how good you are at what you do but you're terrified of other people being jealous of you. there's not much i can say other than jealousy is often rooted in workplaces. no matter where you work, there will always be others who are jealous of you, some places more than the next. however, what matter the most is your own comfort and confidence. don't admit to defeat out of fear of others. if you love a job. go for it. i'm literally hearing it right now. don't let your fear of others hold you back, but always be careful about what you share.

suggested careers/fields: IT, psychiatry, surgeon, engineer, affiliate marketing, life coach, personal trainer, fertility, army and police, investigations, detective, guide, translator, business job, nine to five, desk job, logistics, bargaining, vlogger, running your own business, innovation, writer, interior design.

cards: ace of swords, ace of pentacles, the magician, king of swords, five of swords, two of swords, nine of wands

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧

i cannot say this first paragraph is for all of you however, it will resonate with some of you. the career you have in mind right now, or the one you are currently in, is not the right one for you. i see there needs to be some change or transformation in your career. of course it is not easy to just change career. but if you feel this message is for you, it might be worth looking into a new career which is more worth your time and effort. there is a decision that needs to be made. if you're thinking of switching careers/field, this paragraph and reading is definitely for you.

overall, i'm seeing two different sides to this pile. one side is an authoritarian side, position of power and respect. while the other is more caring and nurturing. your ideal career could be either of those, or both. i see a number of you preferring to be in a job with explicit structure. a jobs that tells you what you need to do. so you know what you need to do every day and there is no confusion over tasks or responsibilities. but at the same time, you want to have some freedom. every day cannot be the same or you'll get bored. that is why is see jobs involved in childcare. you know your responsibilities in regards to caring for children, but with children, no day will be the same. this could also be caring for animals, elderly people, people with disabilities or other vulnerable people.

and although jobs where you can connect with children would be good, any job which can allow you to connect with others in general is a good choice. particularly, partnerships. a business partnership would be great as you can connect with others as well as structure your own enterprise. and since you rely on a structure from others to keep you in order, having other people work with you in an enterprise can keep you in line. also, if you know about the principal agent theory, i think you would perform well as an agent. you do well when performing tasks on behalf of a principal. in addition, when you are working for someone else, you know what you are doing, and what you need to achieve in order to satisfy them. whereas if you are working entirely for yourself, you might often feel confused about what needs to be done.

practical jobs which require thinking (but not too much thinking) would be great for you. you like to be actively involved, both physically and mentally, in your work which means repetitive jobs that have you on autopilot most of the time would be too draining and unsatisfying for you. but still, i think you would greatly appreciate professional settings and/or professional boundaries. i believe some of you may also work well in a field which is somehow connected to your past. for example, if you grew up with financial difficulties, you would be most satisfied in finance. or if you had a difficult childhood, then you would enjoy giving care to children. if you really enjoyed school, you might be most comfortable working in a school. it's that kind of theme and is entirely subjective to your own experiences. but something from your childhood connecting with your career is relevant.

one message here is to let go of insecurities and jealousy and imposter syndrome. because you want to be the best of the best, and you compare yourself to others a lot. you might often feel inclined to outdo others. it's a normal feeling, but the cards here are saying to let go of those thought habits. it will not bring you anything good. building up a successful and stealthy career for yourself will greatly be based on creating a foundation from your values as well as your passion. so don't sabotage yourself or others for your own success. keep in line with your morals. spiritual guidance also comes up here. so perhaps seek some in order to overcome these traits, and maybe consider it as a part of your career.

i can't tell your stance on risk, i feel it is a mixed bunch here. some of you may like taking risk while others do not. if you feel like a career which involves risk is something you are interested in, the cards do tell you that it is a very important decision, however, you must make calculated risks. don't just take the leap of faith. you need a thorough plan. i also see something creative, like art or writing, maybe even food. take it as it resonates and if you feel attracted to pile one also, give it a read because that is the creative pile.

suggested careers/fields: hierarchy, desk job, large corporations, teaching, childcare, primary school, paediatric, healthcare, hospital, banking, army, tax, career advisor, funeral director, financial advisor, insurance, software engineer, therapist, lecturer, spiritual guide, bookkeeping, church, electricity/energy, power plants, technology, chef.

cards: the lovers, death, king of pentacles, six of cups, four of pentacles, the hierophant, the fool, two of swords

#ʚɞ jella’s readings #pac #pick a card #tarot pick a card #tarot pick a pile #pick a pile #tarot reading #free tarot reading #tarot community

351 notes · View notes

crystalandbow · 12 days

Text

PICK A PILE🤍

CALL OUT EDITION

Pile 1 is beach, pile 2 is garden, pile 3 is swans. Take the reading with a grain of salt and only take what resonates 🤍

If you liked the reading, lmk! & Follow for more

Hello pile 1👋🏻

Or should I say hello my mama bears

lol anyways let's begin!!!

The cards that you got: 2 of swords, ace of coins, the emperor and the ace of cups.

Okie so The 2 of swords really sums it up for y'all, the others cards just confirm it more. like you guys are torn between 2 options/paths/things/ whatever. Making a decision is important because It seems like this has been on your mind for some time and is bugging you ? Taking up all your mental energy/stamina. *like a vampire/jk* most of y'all already know which path you want to choose but for some reason you haven't locked in your answers is what I am feeling. And now it's time to make a decision! It might be that you are afraid for some reason, you have this fear of what if things go wrong or something like that or it might be that you are unable to make a decision because both options seem equally tempting.

I think you can choose any path because they will have decent results. The advice or call-out message is that whatever you chose to do for your situation, stick with it. Its not about the options it's about you! The reason why I called you guys mama bear is because that is how you should deal with your current situation. Chose whichever path you want, fight or flight. But stick with it! Know that what you did was absolutely okay!! You have to embody the emperor's energy (of being bold and authoritative, because it is your life, do not fall for anything that doesn't feel right )

The ace of cups tells me that you guys should make a decision using your heart ( feelings & intuition) because afterall you know what's best for you! follow your intuition/gut feeling, don't be afraid of anything YOU ARE THE EMPEROR & YOU'VE GOT IT !

Keywords: stability, bravery & action. Facing fears/oppositions, gut feeling

Ig thats it, lmk how I did and only take what resonates 🤍 have a good day/evening/night

Hello pile 2 👋🏻

Cards you got: 3 of cups, death, 2 of cups & 9 of cups

I'm getting the word "love potion" for guys, I mean we do have alot of cups *the 2,3 and nine of cups* woah! That's alot of emotions. I'm also getting the word "self acceptance" all the cards are so positive but it doesn't feel that good? Something feels heavy? And a Lil stressful yk? I think the message for you guys is opening up yourself.

Y'all might have the habit of guarding yourself, but many times sometimes you just end up over doing it, leaving you feeling sad? Y'all feel that you are different from others in a sad way and that you have to put up this "fake" self to fit in. You try to be like others / everybody around you in public and this needs to change, atleast your mindset that people won't accept you for who you are. Change is needed! Stop blaming it on other exteranl reasons. Do you even know who you actually are? Do you accept yourself? Do you love/care about yourself? Do you prioritise your needs first? Its not always others, sometimes it's our fault that we let people treat us like that! The two of cups imagery is giving me mirror energy, it looks like there's a mirror between the two peeps and they are actually the same person but also different at the same time like it's just their "other side" yk? How you view yourself, and how you let yourself be you truly. Love your inner child. Death talks about how you need to embrace all your different sides and be yourself, be unique & don't try very hard just to "fit in"

The nine of cups is here for advice and it talks about prioritising your needs first & putting yourself on the pedestal! Whether it be in romantic relationships or platonic or any relationship

Call-out message: DONT BE AFRAID TO BE YOURSELF let yourself be! Accept love, prioritise your emotional needs first!!!

Ig thats it, lmk how I did and only take what resonates 🤍 have a good day/evening/night

Hello pile 3 👋🏻

Cards you got: the strength, justice, devil & the star.

Surprisingly all major arcanas😭I really wanna know what's going on with y'all. Like what MAJOR shit is going on lmao

Anyways here's my interpretation for you guys: you guys are working hard towards some goals of yours. I'm getting the vibes that the world told you what you think or thought once upon time is unrealistic and unachieveable but to you it feels like "inner- calling". you have started working towards it and might have achieved/ overcome certain milestones and mini achievements that you should be proud about and if not then you should know that they hard work that you have put in WILL workout and you will gain the fruits for you dedication. One thing you should possibly avoid is arrogance and / or greed attachments will be different for everybody, basically avoid the temptations of the devil. Don't believe you're at the top of the world and for some it's not getting overly obsessed with results,etc. Everything will workout at the right time. The justice card over here is likely talking about getting your results. Call-out message for y'all could be to choose the path of hard work & patience instead of shortcuts and unfair means. The star card is asking you to stay optimistic regarding your work to know that it will all be worth it, you will get your answers and result just keep working hard and have pure intentions

So yeah basically, just on the right track, keeping working hard, don't fall for temptations like shortcuts, procrastination, unfair means,etc be patient and you will be good to go

Ig thats it, lmk how I did and only take what resonates 🤍 have a good day/evening/night

131 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 months

Note

Can I please have the Whitebeard pirates with an Mitsuri Kanroji reader? I feeling like everyone would tease Ace for having a crush on her

-You were one of the very few women that Whitebeard allowed in his crew, only because he knew that you could handle yourself. You were a delicate maiden, personality wise at least, being a total girly-girl, but you were a very strong and intimidating warrior, especially with your unnatural strength and that weird ribbon sword of yours.

-When they plucked you out of the sea, after you dropped there due to a blood demon art going wrong, they had no idea who you are or what you were wearing, your strange uniform with your long socks and the sword at your side.

-You looked injured, but when they got to dealing with your wounds, Marco and the nurses were stunned, seeing the condition of your body, as the wounds you had would have been fatal if they had been on anyone else.

-Whitebeard welcomed you to the crew, once you woke up and you had smiled so brightly, happy tears in your eyes that you had a place to call home in his new world, you bowed so deeply thanking him.

-You learned of this new world and the strange abilities some had, called Devil Fruit abilities, but you fit in nicely, as everyone else had oddball skills as well. You found kinship with them, as none of them thought your unnatural strength was monstrous at all- many claimed that you were a catch for anyone, which of course embarrassed you to no end.

-The crew was quite protective of you, as they could see that you were a bit of an airhead, but also a lover- you loved to make eyes at anyone who was strong and goodlooking, which had led to a few incidents of others, outside the crew, who tried to take advantage of you.

-However, you had a hidden savior that your crew, many whom had adopted you, telling you that they were going to be your big brothers now- to protect you, but there was one who actually had feelings for you.

-Funny thing was, he would always get tongue tied around you, turning bright red, and could barely be around you without tripping over thin air!

-Ace was a total sweetie, but the crew was merciless about his crush on you- many claimed it was painful to see him stuttering or fumbling around you.

-You weren’t the brightest either, you liked Ace- finding him strong and handsome, as well as a good person, as you’ve seen him defending others, but you were always confused about why he was the way he was while around you.

-The whole crew could do nothing but face-palm around the two of you, you were both hopeless!

-That day changed when you were going around with Ace, getting supplies at port, when a man grabbed your wrist, “Hey pretty lady- how about we go and have some fun!”

-You easily pulled your hand back, throwing him over your shoulder, before you both realized he was part of another, no-name crew, who were now pissed that you fought back.

-They started making comments on how strong you were, not recognizing you or Ace, claiming that you were like a gorilla and freakishly strong, and how they should go and find a real woman to get with.

-Ace handed you the bags of groceries he had been carrying, not realizing that you had teared up, hearing the words you had heard back in your old world while Ace took care of business easily.

-When Ace came back to you, he froze, seeing you in tears and he panicked, not knowing what to do before he hugged you close, making you gasp, your eyes going wide, “You’re not a gorilla- you’re just Y/N- and you’re a real woman- you’re beautiful and- and…”

-Izo and Marco found the two of you moments later, both of you bright red, covering your faces with your hands which made them exasperated before you all headed back to the ship.

-Later that evening, you sought Ace out, who froze, seeing you there and you smiled down at him, looking a bit nervous, “Did you really mean it- am I really beautiful?” He was stunned by your question, as if you didn’t know exactly how beautiful you were, before realizing that you had some self-esteem issues.

-Ace stood and hugged you again, surprising you, but he froze, realizing what he had done before he nodded his head softly in your shoulder.

-You both didn’t move for what felt like a long while before Marco groaned, “Just kiss her already!!” you both pulled apart, shocked as you both saw everyone staring at the two of you which made you turn bright red again, embarrassed as Ace charged for them, yelling at them as they all laughed- finding the situation hilarious!

#one piece #portgas d ace #mitsuri reader

111 notes · View notes

leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 1 year

Note

#72 #5

Minho or Hyunjin? Eheh 🤭

SKZ PROMPT GAME

Prompt: "Are those...bite marks?"

Member: Lee Minho

Relationship: Princess!Femreader x Royal Guard!Lee Minho

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Light Smut

"Fuck." Hyunjin grunts as the heavy hilt of your sword buries itself in his stomach.

He goes to his knees, dropping his own sword with a clatter, trying to catch his breath, and you circle him slowly, like a big cat waiting for the right moment to take down its fallen prey

You regard him with narrowed eyes and an air of annoyance.

"You're going easy on me. Stop it."

Hyunjin glances up at you, tracking you with his eyes, a few loose, sweaty strands of blonde hair falling over his brow, and he lets out a little humorless laugh at your words, throwing his hands out in an exasperated gesture.

"I swear to god, princess, if I went any harder on you, I'd collapse."

You stop, staring at him, trying to gauge the truthfulness in his statement.

He bows his head slightly to you, but not before you catch the hint of an amused grin on his full lips.

"I hate to admit it, but you've simply become better than me, princess." He glances off to your left, the grin growing slightly more cheeky now. "Isn't that right, Minho?"

You glance over your shoulder at your personal guard, leaning against the nearby wall, his usual, blank expression on his features, as unreadable and silent as ever.

He arches a brow at Hyunjin as the former scoops up his sword and bounds to his feet once more, headed for the weapons rack and the pail of water waiting beside it.

"I'm in no position to proclaim anything."

Hyunjin rolls his eyes good naturedly, sheathing his sword as he throws you a smirk over his shoulder, swiping hair back from the glistening skin of forehead.

"God, he's absolutely no fun, is he?"

"No." You shake your head, biting back your own grin now as you toss him your sword, which he catches easily, stowing it beside his own.

"I don't get paid to be fun." Minho deadpans, his eyes astutely scanning across the training courtyard in search of god knows what, his hand resting easily on the hilt of his sheathed sword at his waist. "I get paid to protect the princess, and that's what I'm doing."

"All right, Sir Serious." Hyunjin taunts, rolling his eyes once more, just for good measure. "Whatever you say."

Minho pushes off the wall and strides toward you, light armor clanking, before he narrows his eyes and looks up to judge the position of the sun in the sky.

"We should be getting back, your highness."

You glance once more at Hyunjin, who grins at you, before turning away and starting to organize the racks of weapons.

You sigh and drop the light weight helmet you had been wearing during your spars to the ground at your feet, motioning with your head to the waiting guard and the palace seen in the distance.

"Fine. Lead the way."

As you trek silently after Minho-back through the royal gardens, down the path through the vineyard, into the main fountain courtyard-you can't help but think that your mother is going to be furious with you.

Minho tries to keep you on time to things, but you're head strong and stubborn, and chafe under the rules of being the crown princess, and judging by the dipping of the setting sun, you're late for dinner.

Not to mention, you'd snuck some old clothes from the stable boys to practice in-skirts and silks only serving to get in your way-and your mother was sure to have a conniption fit if she saw you dressed in the raggedy pants and overly large tunic you'd secured.

Minho had caught one sight of the outfit and you had seen the disapproval on his face.

"Your mother is going to be angry, you know." He remarks, not looking back at you, as if thinking about his obvious annoyance with your recreational activities has summoned it to the surface once more.

"What's new?" You huff back, stepping past him as he holds aside a low hanging shrub for you to pass, stomping your feet in their old boots just a little bit harder than necessary as you do. "She's always angry it seems."

Minho remains quiet, following you up to the servants' entrance of the ostentatious castle that leads to the kitchens, and ultimately, the back staircase that allows you to sneak in and out without catching your mother's-or the royal advisor's-watchful eyes.

Yanking open the heavy wooden door, you stomp up the staircase without so much as a backward glance in your personal guard's direction.

Let him be angry with you. Let them all be angry with you.

It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered, and it would never matter, not when you were doomed to be held in a gilded cage for the rest of your life.

********************************************************************************

You keep your head down at dinner-only speaking when you're spoken to, though it chafes against every nature you have-and you mostly avoid your mother's ire by doing so.

Acting the dutiful princess has always put her off the war trail.

After dessert, you sneak out of the dining room as your mother takes her wealthy guests to the parlor for some after dinner brandy and betting games, probably a little political talk if you had to guess.

None of it matters to you. It doesn't have to, because eventually your mother will find you some boring old duke of a husband, and he'll rule the castle, because god forbid a woman do it on her own, and you'll be just as trapped as before.

Dashing up the stairs, skirts in your hands, gleeful and heady from getting out of entertaining without being caught, you stop on the landing and glance down into the foyer, just as Minho steps from the shadows.

You can tell he's irritated, even from here, and something about it makes you even more triumphant than before.

"You don't have to follow me." You call down to him, taking the second flight of stairs two at a time, even as he sighs and begins to descend the first.

"I do though."

"You really don't." You reply back, reaching the second landing, catching your breath.

Damn these heavy skirts and petticoats and this tightly drawn corset in which you can hardly breathe. You much prefer the tunics and trousers men are allowed to wear.

Minho reaches you as you're finding the last of your breath, and the look on his face is smooth once more, unreadable.

It's something you've never understood about him. How he manages to keep such a blank mask all the time. Doesn't he feel stifled? Doesn't he want more?

"It's my job, princess." He affirms in a serious, no argument tone, and you roll your eyes in response.

"Fine."

He follows you silently down the long corridor, but when you reach the large oaken doors of your room, you pause with a hand on the knob, glancing at him with a sort of smirk over your shoulder.

"You have to wait out here though. I'm going to change."

If Minho's caught off guard, he doesn't show it. He leans against the wall and his hand goes to the sword at his hip.

"I'm not allowed in your chambers regardless, your highness. Now is no different."

"God, you really are no fun." You complain, just to annoy him, and you push through the doors, shutting them in his face before he can say anything in response.

Deciding against calling for the help of one of your ladies maids, and risking a lecture, you slip out of the dozens of layers of gowns and petticoats yourself, but the corset cinched tightly around your waist proves a little more difficult.

No matter how much you twist and turn, you can't get ahold of the carefully placed laces to tug them loose.

"Fuck." You swear beneath your breath, sweating slightly, staring at your reflection in the mirror as you ponder your options.

Finally, you come to the conclusion that there's no other way. It has to be done.

Waltzing to the door, you tug it open and peek your head out to see Minho right where you left him.

He slides his gaze to you with a questioning sort of look, and you clear your throat.

"I-need a little help."

He stares at you, and then his lips form a firm line. "Call for Celia."

"I can't." You explain with a huff, as if he thinks you're stupid and you feel the need to explain yourself. "She'll rat me out to mother and I'll get the lecture of a lifetime."

Minho just continues to stare, unyielding.

"Minho." You whine, stamping your foot, and he arches a brow. "You know I'm on thin fucking ice with her already."

"And you'd be on even thinner ice if she heard you using coarse language like that."

You don't give in. "Please?"

Minho sighs. "Fine."

You squeal and duck back into the room, and it's only when he steps through the door to join you, that you suddenly realize with certain clarity what you're asking of him.

You're standing in nothing but your shift and corset, and there's a man in your room, one you're not married to, and oh god-

Minho seems to realize all of this at the same time you do, and he freezes mid step as if he's been doused in cold water, and you shriek without thinking, darting behind the bed to hide behind the blanket.

"Close your eyes!" You hiss out, as you scrabble to cover yourself.

He does so, but a wash of frustration moves across his face as he snaps back, "How the hell am I supposed to unlace you if I can't see?"

"I don't know!" You blurt out, heart hammering against your chest with panic.

Minho takes a blind step in the direction of the door. "If you would just call your maid-"

"No!" You exclaim, a bit louder than intended, and Minho cracks open an eye as you slap your hand over your mouth.

"No." You repeat, quieter this time, and you straighten, steeling your nerve, glancing toward the closed door nervously. "Let's just do it quickly. I'll stay behind the blanket, and you have to promise your gaze will remain appropriate at all times-"

Minho snorts a humorless sounding chuckle, and you glare at him.

"Promise me, Minho!"

He sighs and stares upward at the ceiling for a moment, as if looking for something to give him strength.

"I promise."

"Okay, good." You say nervously, tucking the blanket more securely around you, until you're sure just the laces on the back of your corset are showing.

You waddle in Minho's direction, and if you didn't know him better, you'd think that was a flash of amusement in his eyes.

You turn toward him, baring your back and your shoulders, and hold your breath, staring straight ahead.

He doesn't touch you and you grow antsy in the silence.

"Minho!" You hiss, not daring to glance back at him. "Hurry!"

You hear him take a step forward, and then feel a brush of a finger along the bare skin of your shoulder as he reaches for the top laces.

You jolt, cheeks instantly aflame, and try to hold still as you feel him hesitantly pull the top lace through the eyelet.

You try to focus on anything but the feel of Minho's warm hands brushing your back through your thin shift as he works, quickly and quietly, and as the corset loosens and you can breathe again, your lungs tighten up for a whole different reason.

Minho is touching you.

And you don't hate it.

Minho pulls the last lace through and clears his throat, reaching around you to drop the discarded laces into your hands.

"There. All done."

He pulls his hand back, and as he does so, it brushes the bare skin of your shoulder.

You shiver, and it's not because you're cold.

Instantly, you whirl, tugging the blanket up and around you so you're completely covered now, and when you meet Minho's gaze, his mask is firmly in place, expression unreadable.

"Thank you." You manage to say, as Minho nods and backs toward the doors.

"I'll be waiting outside, your highness."

He disappears, and the doors click quietly shut behind him.

You stare down at the silk laces he had laid in your palm, and will your heart to stop thundering out of your chest.

********************************************************************************

"Do you think Lee Minho is actually cold, or do you think that's just what he wants people to see?" You ask one day, sitting in a field of wild flowers, watching the horses graze contentedly a few feet away.

Felix looks over at you in surprise, then glances in the direction of Minho, off a few hundred feet away making sure his mare drinks from a stream.

"Why are you asking?" He replies curiously, instead of giving you an answer, and you sigh, leaning back on your hands and hiking up your skirts to give your legs a little glimpse of the warm afternoon sun.

"I don't know." You shrug, considering, and lean over to pick an especially yellow daisy, twirling it between your fingers as you think. "I just think there's a side to him I don't really know."

Felix lounges back beside you, a blade of grass stuck between his lips, and stares up at the blue sky for several moments.

"I think there's a side to everyone that we don't really know."

You nod thoughtfully, and unwittingly, your gaze drifts to Minho, stroking the broad neck of his horse gently, whispering something to it in low tones that you can't catch.

"Yeah, I guess." You admit vaguely, staring off into the distance.

"Besides-" Felix leans over to nudge your side, giving you a bright grin that dimples his cheeks and scrunches his freckles. "-I wouldn't worry about him too much. I'm sure your mother has loads of eligible suitors lined up and waiting. You'll have no time to think of the mystery that is Lee Minho soon enough."

That sounds absolutely awful, but you don't say that out loud.

You simply give him a smile that you don't feel in return, playfully shove him, and stand up to ready for the ride back home.

********************************************************************************

"Minho." You call out, standing in the middle of the sparring ring, chest heaving, having bested Hyunjin once again.

Your guard glances up from his usual position on the wall.

"Spar with me." You command, motioning to the ring with the tip of your sword.

Minho stares.

"Minho." You repeat again, tone firmer and harder this time, because you know he's going to try to refuse, but you need this. Just to see. "That's an order from your princess."

You see his chest rise and fall beneath his armor with a breath, and then he pushes off the wall, accepting the training sword Hyunjin hands him wordlessly as he walks toward you.

He steps a boot over the red line of the training circle, and eyes you warily.

"Princess, I don't think-"

"Don't think." You snap back, readying your stance, adjusting your hold on the hilt, glaring at him. "And don't go easy on me."

Minho watches you, something flashing across his eyes that you can't quite read, and then he sighs and sinks down into a ready stance of his own.

Hyunjin steps up, glancing between the two of you carefully, before he drops his hands in between you to signal the start of the match.

You move without thinking, whirling around and using the heavy weight of your sword to propel you toward Minho, under his left arm and right toward his flank.

He leaps out of the way easily, and comes around your back, and you follow his every movement with narrowed eyes, trying to preemptively think of what he's going to do next.

He lunges for you suddenly, the tip of his sword headed for the juncture of your shoulder, and you drop and roll out of the way to the other side of the ring, avoiding him.

"Why are you holding back?" You ask furiously, swinging at him again, as he ducks and maneuvers out of your way.

"I'm not." He snaps right back, and with a cry, you leap at him again, aiming for his legs, hoping to take him down to the ground.

There is tension, as the two of you circle the training ring and each other like jungle cats, stalking each other's every moves, watching footwork and body language and any minute movements.

"You are." You insist, slightly out of breath, as you dodge another one of Minho's well timed attacks, barely missing nicking your arm on the edge of his training blade.

"I'm not going to hurt you, princess." Minho retorts, fire flaring in his eyes, as he scrapes past a swing of your own.

With a growl of frustration, you head for him again, and this time, he meets your blade head on, the swords creating sparks as they make contact, the two of you battling for dominance.

You're so close now that you can see the flecks of gold in Minho's dark brown eyes, the sweat shining on his upper lip, the slight wave of his hair now that it's damp.

"Fucking hurt me." You hiss back, holding against his insistent pressure, your arms beginning to ache with the strain. "It's the only thing I get to feel in this prison."

Minho's eyes flash dangerously, and he gains an inch over you, the blades sliding against one another as he pushes you a step back.

"You wanna know something, Minho?" You bite out, your muscles beginning to shake with exhaustion, your whole body tense. "Every day, I watch you. I watch you put on a mask, and go to work, and follow orders, and do it all again the next day-like some sort of cold, unfeeling, unyielding machine. Aren't you tired? Don't you get tired of just not feeling anything?"

Minho growls in his throat, and suddenly, he's heaving forward, sending your sword flying from your hands as you tumble to the ground, the wind knocked out of you as you land hard on the packed earth, flat on your back.

Before you can react, Minho is on you, sword at your throat, pinning your body down beneath his, chest heaving.

You stare up at him, shocked, and suddenly, your heart is racing in your chest.

He leans over you, face impossibly close to your own, and you catch a hint of his musk-something cedar and pine-before he grits out beneath his breath, "There. Happy now?"

You open your mouth, but no words come out, and he stares at you, hard, his breaths harsh, and you see something flicker across his gaze as he murmurs, "I feel things. But they're forbidden. And that's the way it has to be, princess."

He pulls the sword back from your throat and stands.

You lay there in the dirt, Hyunjin rushing to your side, as Minho tosses aside his sword and leaves without another backward glance.

********************************************************************************

"Fuck." You swear beneath your breath, sitting on the edge of your ridiculously large bed, trying, and failing once more, to wrap your hand in the strips of linen you had stolen from the kitchen.

Glancing down at the small wound on the palm of your hand, you let yourself fall back heavily on the bed, glaring up at the ceiling.

"Fuck this." You announce, if only to yourself, and you stand determinedly, marching to the door of your room and yanking it open.

Minho glances at you from his usual post on the wall.

"I need your help." You say, with no preamble, and Minho arches a brow.

"Your highness, please say it has nothing to do with corset laces."

You pause, because that's probably the first time you've ever heard Minho make anything close to a joke, and then shake your head with a slightly rueful smile.

"It does not."

Minho inclines his head to your open door after looking down the hall to make sure you're alone. "Lead the way then."

You shut the door behind him, and return to the bed, sitting down on the edge as Minho stands like a statue in the doorway.

You heave a sigh and motion him forward with your hand. "Come over here. You can't help me from there."

He does so, albeit reluctantly, hand on the hilt of his sword, like always, and comes to stand awkwardly beside you.

You open your palm and he glances down, his expression going dark as he takes in the small, red wounds marring the flesh.

"Are those....bite marks?"

You shrug one shoulder and try not to let his sudden anger make your heart do weird things in your chest.

"Yes. I tried to befriend a stray in the village this afternoon." You remark, reaching for the discarded roll of linen. "Bastard apparently didn't like cook's egg tarts."

You hold out the linen to Minho with an expectant look, and he sighs heavily, before taking it from your outstretched hand and kneeling at your feet.

"Fine. Let me see."

You extend your hand another inch or so, suddenly unsure of what to do, and Minho glances up at you, amusement in the twitch of his lips, before he grasps your hand with his own and pulls it into his lap.

You bite back the gasp that threatens at the feel of his fingers on your won.

"Did you clean this?" Minho asks, studying the wound clinically, turning your palm all which ways to see it in the light.

"Yes." You nod, annoyance seeping into your tone. "I'm not daft."

"I didn't say you were." Minho remarks offhandedly, as, seemingly satisfied, he unrolls the linen and begins to carefully wind it around your palm.

You hiss a little as the coarse fabric scrapes the raw skin, but manage to hold still as Minho finishes the job and ties it off securely with a satisfied little nod and a hum in the back of his throat.

"There." He announces, glancing up at you, and you freeze, because, fuck, Minho is pretty, and how have you never noticed?

You stare openly, your eyes dragging down the sharp, well arched lines of his face, the slope of his nose, the full bow of his upper lip.

And with a start, you realize he's still holding your injured hand in his own.

Tugging out of his grasp, you stand, brushing off your skirts as if they're dirty, if only to direct attention away from your suddenly flaming cheeks.

You clear your throat. "Thank you. I-"

Minho stands now as well, echoing your throat clear. "Yes. If that'll be all-"

Something sinks heavy into the pit of your stomach at his obvious dismissal.

"Minho-" You start to say without really thinking where you're going, and he glances to you, expression shuttered. "I never got to apologize. For the other day."

He regards you with a cautious look, a muscle in his jaw feathering slightly.

"You don't need to apologize for anything, your highness."

"No, I mean-" You take a step forward, holding his gaze, and you feel the danger in this, the danger in him being here, in being alone, in your room. "-I didn't mean it. What I said about you being cold."

Minho studies you, his eyes dark in the flicker of the sconces. "But I am."

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

Minho sighs, reaching up to rake a hand through his thick hair, and you think it's the first human gesture you've ever seen out of him since you've known him.

"It's who I am. I have to be. It's part of my job, princess."

"Why?" You ask without thinking, and Minho's gaze grows pained, just for an instant, and then it's gone.

He shakes his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"Please." You beg, taking another step toward him, and surprise even yourself when you clutch your hand in his.

Minho instantly freezes.

"Please. I want to understand. If you could just try to help me-"

"I-" Minho starts to say, eyes flicking down to yours.

"We're the same, Minho." You whisper desperately, squeezing his cold fingers. "Trapped, locked away. Maybe if I understood, we could help each other-"

Minho stiffens, and he tugs his hand from your own, and when you look at him again, he's closed off, face unreadable once more.

He backs toward the door, a flash of anger in his eyes before it's gone.

"We are not the same, princess. We will never be the same."

He turns on his heel and exits your room without another word.

********************************************************************************

You don't know if it's the way you left things with Minho the night before, or if it's the fact that your mother is waiting in the parlor with some suitable prince suitor, but you find yourself fleeing the castle on horseback at the first possible moment.

"Princess, wait-" Felix calls out, but you pay him no heed as you pull yourself up on your mare and kick her flanks, urging her into a fast gallop, leaving the stable and the palace and your mother and Minho all behind.

You ride and ride, not caring where you're headed, and it's only when the first rain drop hits your forehead, that you pull the horse to a slower canter, weaving her in and out of the forest trees, the sound of your own heartbeat and the hoofbeats on the ground the only thing filling your head.

The rain quickly becomes a downpour, and you tug the hood of your riding cape up around your head, cursing yourself for being stupid enough to leave without checking the weather first.

It mists your face in a chilled spray, and soon, your dress is drenched, heavy and wet, the horse's mane sticking to her soaked skin beneath your clenched fingers that hold the reigns.

You reach a stream, made into something closer to a roaring river by the storm, and the mare beneath you balks when you urge her to the edge, stomping her feet and shaking her head, snorting nervously.

"C'mon-" You urge, your teeth starting to chatter, and kick her flank once more, just as a flash of lightning cracks across the sky and a boom of thunder sounds over head.

The horse rears, and with a startled shriek, you're thrown violently to the muddy forest ground.

Your mare thunders off wildly, and you're left alone, crumpled on the forest floor, your body aching and your heart pounding.

You push yourself up to a sitting position, slipping slightly in the mud, and wince, hissing through your teeth as you jostle your bruised ribs and very clearly sprained ankle.

Mud covers your palms as you take stock of yourself and any injuries sustained, and when you pull your fingers away from your forehead, they're red and sticky with blood.

Glancing around, you realize with a sharp pang of fear, that you have no idea where you are.

And no one knows how to find you.

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to get to your feet, the roar of the river loud in your ears, but only succeeded in rising to your knees before you slide in the mud, your skirts-heavy with water-tangle around your legs, and your weakened body collapses back down.

You glance around for a stick, or a branch, or a tree to heave yourself up with, but you're dead weight, and there's nothing in sight.

Tears gather, hot and frustrated, and you scream into the clouds overhead, raging at the storm, at your stupidity, at this asinine life and role you've been thrust into.

You duck your head against the wind and rain, and stare at your muddied, bloodied hands and skirts, the tears starting to drip from your eyes without your permission.

It makes you even angrier.

"Fuck." You growl out, swiping at your cheeks, smearing the mud around along with the tears. You let your head fall back and scream louder once more, "Fuck!"

You don't know how long you sit there, defeated, in the mud beside the river, before you hear a faint sound in the distance that makes your ears perk.

It's the sound of hooves.

Without thinking, you cup your hands around your mouth and start to cry out, hoping it's a hunter or servant stumbling upon you in their trip through the woods, "Help! Someone please help!"

No one comes, and your pleas die in your throat, along with your hope.

Foolish. Stupid. It was probably just your abandoned mare passing by in her frenzy whipped up by the storm.

And then, a large dark horse-much too large to be your own-appears at the edge of the clearing, cantering toward you, and everything inside of you instantly grows warm with relief at the sight of the rider upon its back.

Minho leaps off the horse before it comes to a full stop, his boots sinking into the mud as he slides to a stop beside you, instantly dropping to his knees next to you, ignorant to the thick mud staining his breeches.

"Minho." His name comes out on a strained whisper, and you're crying again.

You expect to see anger on his face when he looks at you, the emotion he sports the most around you-irritation maybe, at your stupidity, at not telling him where you were going, at blowing off your mother-but instead, you're caught off guard by the sheer panic in his dark eyes, the relieved, almost scared, pull of his lips.

"Are you hurt?" He asks you instantly, voice hoarse and frantic, his eyes roving down the length of your body, as if to check your condition, and his hands clutch your upper arms, holding you in place, the strength of his fingers making you wince.

"Not vitally." You reply, and Minho's eyes flick back up to your face at that, and you remember the blood probably coating your skin.

"Your head-" He starts to say, reaching up to swipe a careful thumb across the gash that must be there, and you resist the urge to close your eyes, lean into the warm comfort of his touch.

"It barely hurts." You whisper back, and it's the truth. Your ribs and ankle are warring to take the place of highest ache currently. "My ankle though-"

Minho's gaze goes down to your ankle, buried in the deep mud, as if he can see what's ailing you through the layers of skirts tangled around your legs.

He seems to consider for a moment, and then he stands, and before you can protest, he pulls you up easily so you're cradled in his arms.

"Minho-" You gasp out fearfully, your arms going around his neck tightly in impulse.

"I won't drop you." He assures you, face serious, eyes dark. His gaze roves slowly across your face, as if searching for something. "Do you trust me?"

Without a second thought, you nod.

He almost smiles, but it's strained, and fraught with concern. "Good. There's a small, stocked hunting cabin nearby that the estate's game warden uses during the summer. We'll head there until we can wait out the storm."

He glances up at the tumultuous sky with narrowed eyes, the rain pelting his face, dripping off the heavy dark waves of his hair, and another round of lightning flashes overhead.

You bury into the safety of his chest without thinking, and Minho's arms tighten slightly around you.

You think he presses a barely noticeable kiss against your wet dirty hair, but it's probably just your imagination.

"Let's go." He murmurs, and heads off into the shelter of the quickly darkening trees, you still held carefully in his arms.

********************************************************************************

It doesn't take Minho long to get a small fire going in the hearth of the tiny cabin, and then he turns to you, face half in light, half in shadow, and motions to your drenched petticoats.

"You need to take those off. You'll get sick."

"I'm fine." You start to protest, but a violent shudder goes through you before you can finish, proving his point, and he stares at you pointedly.

Still, you return the look stubbornly, and finally, Minho lets out a long sigh, standing up from the fire and heading to a dresser in the corner.

He tosses a pair of breeches and a tunic into your lap without really looking, and says firmly, "I'll wait outside," before turning and leaving without another word.

You stare down at the dry clothes in your hands, debating on resisting, just to piss Minho off, but another shiver wracks through your body, and you decide in the moment, it's better off to be warm than stubborn.

Slipping out of your heavy, wet clothing, you slide the dry clothing on quickly, warm now from the fire, and immediately feel ten times better.

Minho was right, but you'll never admit it.

"I'm finished." You call out into the silence, and you don't know if he's heard you, but a minute later, he reappears through the front door, letting a burst of wind in with him, dripping rain onto the floor.

He crouches down beside the fire, warming his hands, and gives you a once over before glancing to your pile of wet clothing on the floor, already puddling.

Seeming satisfied, he turns back to the glowing fire.

"You didn't have to go outside." You mutter sullenly beneath your breath, curling your knees to your chest and scooting as close to the fire as you can allow. "Shutting your eyes would've sufficed. I know you don't think of me like that anyway."

Out of the corner of your eye, Minho tenses, but it's gone so quickly that you think you've imagined it.

"Think of you like what?" He questions emotionlessly, eyes never leaving the flames.

You shrug. "A woman. An interest. Someone other than your job."

"Mm." Minho muses, oddly blank for the moment at hand, not even deigning to look at you. "And who told you that? Your mother perhaps? Or maybe one of your maids?"

You feel anger curl, hot and tight, in the pit of your stomach at his indifference.

"No one had to tell me. It's always on your face." You spit back, fire lacing your tone. "You've never treated me with anything other than irritation, or boredom, or apathy in all the time we've known each other, all the time you've been saddled with me."

Minho tongues his cheek, and his fists clench in his lap, and then he turns, staring at you hard, fire reflected in his own dark gaze now.

You note with a start that he's not wearing his usual armor. You don't think you've ever just seen him in a tunic and breeches in all the time you've known him. Your mother must have thrown an absolute fit about your disappearance to have him leaving the castle without so much as a chest plate.

"It's a mask." He remarks coldly, his words tight and low. "A necessary evil of the job, but a mask nonetheless."

You hold him, stare for stare, and refuse to back down, your own anger growing hotter and brighter by the second.

"I don't see why it's necessary to treat me with such disdain-" You start to retort back, but Minho cuts you off with a harsh wave of his hand and a flash of his eyes.

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about, princess." His voice trembles with fury, and he forces a harsh breath out through his nose, as if he's willing himself to remain still and not wrap his hands around your throat. "That mask that I've worked so hard to curate? That you seem to harbor such hatred for? That mask protects us both."

He takes in another long breath, and unclenches his hands in his lap, but his gaze never leaves your face, and his expression is darkened in shadow as the flames flicker across his features.

When he speaks again, his voice is resigned, low, barely a frustrated murmur.

"If I were to allow myself to ever, ever explore the depths of my feelings for you, not only would I lose my job and most likely my head, but I would ruin you."

You stare at him, anger slowly fading, as you try to comprehend what he's telling you.

Outside, the wind rails against the small cabin and the rain thunders on the roof.

Minho sighs and glances away from you now, something sad flickering briefly across his dark eyes, no longer filled with fire.

"I will not do that to you. I would never risk it." A muscle ticks in his jaw. "But I also feel I owe it to you to be honest, and as much as I'd like to stay safely behind the mask, it's also not very conducive to vulnerability."

The fire crackles in the tense silence between the two of you, and you finally let out the breath you've been holding, confusion and exhaustion quickly replacing the anger, dampening and heavying your bones.

"I don't understand." You whisper out, because your heart is going a million miles a minute, and you're trying very hard not to focus on the soft curl of Minho's hair now that he's growing dry beside the fire.

Minho shifts slightly, and suddenly, his thigh is brushing against yours, warm and solid through the thin cotton of the pants you wear.

Everything inside of your body tightens.

"(Y/N)-" Minho says softly, gently, reaching out to take your chin in his fingers, and you resist the urge to pull away, avoiding his gaze instead.

You don't think you've ever heard him call you by your given name. Or speak so gently before.

"Don't say my name like that." You whisper out, voice hoarse, and try to ignore the way Minho's skin feels against your own, giving you butterflies.

He regards you seriously, tilting his head slightly to pin you beneath his intent gaze.

"Like what?" He questions back, just as soft, and his fingers curl against your skin, tugging your chin up to finally make you look him in the eye.

"Like you'd willingly cross oceans and tear nations apart just to keep me safe." You whisper in response, voice growing hoarse and dry in your throat, your stomach fluttering pleasantly now that is gaze is directly on you, roving your face.

He lets his hand drop slowly from your face, but his eyes never leave your own.

His mouth softens, and something goes weirdly warm in the depths of his dark eyes as he continues to stare at you.

"Don't look at me like that." You demand quietly, voice growing in confidence, as you stare him back down, your chin trembling a bit and the fight not to drop your eyes to the full curve of his lips growing harder by the second.

"Like what?" He questions again, voice rough and soft, caressing your skin as if he had reached out and touched you.

You take in a shuddering breath, and press a hand to your wildly pounding heart just beneath your sternum, as if you can will it to quiet just by your touch.

"Like you lov-" You start to say, but Minho cuts you off as his mouth covers your own.

You gasp, but it's lost in the kiss, and you're so caught off guard, your mind goes blank for a moment, but Minho is patient and cautious, and soon, you respond to him in kind, growing used to the feel of his impossibly soft mouth moving in time with your own.

You've never kissed anyone-not like this.

You weren't allowed to even be alone with a man, let alone experience anything that Minho's offering you now.

But suddenly, you find that you're starving for more.

You part your lips experimentally beneath his, and Minho responds with a low hum in his throat, his fingers tangling into your damp hair, his tongue slipping in to the gap you've created, prodding, exploring, but never pushing.

Gods, you feel like you're on fire. Is it possible to catch fire just from someone's touch?

You don't know, but you hope it never stops.

Minho pulls back from you, his lips red and slick, his eyes dark and blown, and he stares at you for a moment, as if you're the most precious, pretty thing he's ever seen, even though you're sure you look a mess.

Your hair is nothing more than a rat's nest from the rain, and you're wearing the games keeper's old clothes, skin still covered in mud from your fall earlier, but Minho regards you in this moment like you're the moon goddess hanging the stars in the sky.

Minho heaves in a laborious breath, and then another.

"Tell me to stop."

You stare back at him, studying the sharp lines of his face, the way his lips are pinker than before, flushed and rosy, the tanned, sharp lines of his collar bone and upper chest where it dips into the deep v of his shirt.

Do you want him to stop? You open your mouth, but no words come out.

"Tell me to stop." Minho repeats, slower this time, his hands finding yours where they rest in your lap. He leans down to meet your gaze. "And I will. We'll never speak of this again."

Do you want that? Do you want to go back to cold looks and apathetic glances and masks? Or do you want this? Do you want warm fires and hands on your skin and Minho?

In a bold move that surprises even yourself, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

He palms the back of your head, pulling you closer to him, almost in his lap, and your whole body tingles at the feeling.

You part just enough to catch your breath and get your words out.

"Don't stop."

Minho's eyes flash and then he's smashing his lips against yours once more, devouring you fully, and you can't help the slight mewl that escapes into his open mouth as his tongue dances with your own.

He tugs you down beside him onto the rug that lies in front of the fire, and doesn't stop kissing you.

You feel his hand slip beneath the loose material of the large tunic you wear, and you whimper as his fingers stroke your skin, along the curve of your hip, across your ribs, until he can palm your breast.

"Fuck." Minho swears as you gasp and arch up into him at the foreign contact, and you're not really sure what you're doing, but it feels right.

He puts his free hand beside your head, propping himself above you, and his gaze roams hungrily down the lines of your body, before he seems to shake himself and drag his eyes back up to your own.

"Are you sure?" He questions softly, and his hand stops its exploratory motions, and you have to bite your tongue so you don't beg him to continue.

"Yes." You nod, ignoring the breathless catch to your voice, and reach up to run your fingers through his hair.

It's so soft. You've always wondered what it felt like

"I'm sure."

Something resolute flashes across his gaze, and he leans back over to kiss you, but it's short and sweet and gentle this time, before he pulls back and moves to the pants currently bunched around your waist, his fingers settling there as he once again gives you another questioning look.

You bite your lip and nod, and he tugs the thin material down your body and tosses it aside.

You're wearing nothing now but the large tunic, and you fight the urge to squirm or try to cover up as Minho returns, staring down at you, his eyes roving your newly bared skin as if he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.

"Fuck-" He repeats again, leaning over to press kisses to the now bare curvature of your hip, down across your lower belly, dangerously close to where you suddenly feel very hot in a strange, but altogether pleasant way. "-you're so beautiful."

"Minho." You whimper out, as his slides a large, warm palm up your bare thigh, and his fingers tease where his mouth just was only seconds before.

Is it supposed to feel like this? Is this why they'd been keeping it from you? Because it's so damn good?

"Easy, love." Minho murmurs against your stomach, as he inches his fingers lower and lower, until they touch the strange warmth, sending an electric jolt through your body that has you shuddering and crying out.

He flicks his gaze to yours, and something serious resides there.

"It might hurt the first time." He cautions gently, and you nod dazedly, because you don't really know, but you'd heard whisperings from the castle staff, the maids, that told as much. "I'm going to prep you, okay? But tell me if you want me to stop and I will."

You take in a deep steadying breath, and your hands clench into the fabric of the rug on either side of you. "Okay."

Minho presses another kiss to your lower stomach, and carefully slides a finger in.

You gasp, because it feels like an intrusion, and it stings, just a bit, your body tensing, muscles fighting, but Minho is there, leaning up to press tender kisses to your lips, along with low, flowing praises in your ear.

"Try to relax." He murmurs, and you force yourself to listen to him, slowly loosening every muscle in your body one by one.

Minho's dark eyes flicker with something akin to warm pride at your obedience. "Good girl, love." He eases another finger into you, and you fight the urge to tense up again. "That's it."

It's oddly intimate, Minho talking you through it, and when you finally feel like you've reached a space of comfort, and maybe even pleasure, writhing beneath him with each exploratory, careful probe of his fingers, you find yourself begging for more.

"Please, Minho-" You whine out, and it feels sinful to experience this much pleasure just at the hands of another.

And then, he disrobes, between your legs, and you feel everything inside of you tense up again at the sight of him.

You've never been with a man. Are they always that large? And hard? And intimidating?

Fear crawls up your throat, alongside a small flare of curiosity, and you find yourself reminding yourself to breathe.

Minho must sense your sudden panic, because he leans over you once more, and you try to force yourself to focus on the lines of his chest, the scars that mark the tan skin there.

"Do you trust me?" He asks suddenly, and you snap your gaze back up to his, the fear melting away at the reassuring look in his eyes, the soft lines around his mouth.

"Yes." You whisper back, nodding without even having to think, and Minho leans forward to press his lips to yours once more.

When he presses into you, you gasp, and your body goes tight once more at the bigger intrusion, and it's painful, sharp and foreign.

You start to feel the panic swell in your throat once more, gasping against Minho's lips, but then he's right there, murmuring comfort low in your ear, his hands stroking up your sides even as he pauses, just letting you be for a minute.

"You're doing so well, love." He breathes, and you force another muscle to relax, one by one, as he slips in a bit further. "So perfect for me."

You whimper as you feel him, all of him, but then most of the pain is gone, and suddenly, your entire body feels light and limp with pleasure.

"Minho-" You gasp out, body aligning with his, thoughts suddenly hazy and far away.

He grunts, low in the back of his throat, and the sound makes your legs feel like jelly. "Fucking perfect."

You shift slightly beneath him, and he groans in response, hands going down hard on either side of your head to support his weight, his muscles trembling.

"Fuck, don't-" He starts to say, his words bitten off by another low growl rumbling in his chest.

He glances up at you from beneath the dark wave of his hair, his chest heaving with breaths, lips parted.

"Don't move like that, love, unless you really want me to cross a line."

He rubs against you, and the friction has you mewling and arching up into the strong warmth of his body.

You grab his head and force his lips back down to yours.

"Cross all the lines, Minho."

********************************************************************************

You're lying beside the warmth of the fire, your head on Minho's chest, a fur throw thrown over both your naked bodies, the rain slowly dying to a light mist outside.

You don't know what time it is, you don't know if your mother has sent others out looking for the two of you, but with your hands idly combing across Minho's broad chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, your entire body achy and satiated, you find you don't really care.

"What's this one from?" You ask in a sleepy whisper, running your fingers along another of Minho's scars-this one a faded, shiny white line along the edge of his breastbone.

"You probably don't remember." He muses, as you cuddle closer to him, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. "You were barely five or six at the time."

"Which would make you not much older." You quip back teasingly.

"Yeah, a few years. I was probably ten?" Minho remembers, staring up at the ceiling, as he cards his fingers through your hair distractedly, remembering. "You had wandered away from your governess in the gardens. She was absolutely frantic. I found you at the edge of the woods, playing in the mud beside a stream."

You smile at the thought, because that does sound like you.

Minho chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, and you turn your head to press a kiss to his bare pec as it flexes as he tightens his arms around you.

"You were buried in some pretty thick brambles, but you hadn't a care in the world. Completely oblivious to the angry, large thorns you had climbed through, surprisingly unscathed, to reach the mud patch. Offered me a mud pie, if I remember correctly."

You laugh and Minho shakes his head ruefully. "I climbed in and carried you out on my back. Sported a pretty nasty gash for a couple of days from one of the more vicious thorns."

He rubs absentmindedly at the small scar, and you cover his fingers with yours.

"Thank you." You murmur under the crackle of the fire, and Minho glances down at you.

"You don't have to thank me. It's always been my job to protect you."

You push yourself up on an elbow to stare down at him seriously. "I know. I'm not thanking you for that."

His brow arches in surprise. "Then what?"

You idly trail a finger down his cheekbone, studying the way the shifting firelight makes him look even more beautiful than before if that's possible.

"Thank you for keeping me safe. And for looking out for me. And showing me that there's more to life than just being stuck in a fancy cage."

Minho's eyes soften, and you lean over to kiss him sweetly.

He pulls you back down to his side, and you tuck yourself willingly against him, curling your body against his.

"Thank you, love, for never giving up on the person you knew I was behind the mask."

"You didn't make it easy." You tease sleepily, nuzzling against him.

Minho chuckles softly. "I know."

You close your eyes, the exhaustion making your body heavy, your mind blissfully quiet.

Tomorrow, you'll have to return and face your mother, and your gilded cage, and whatever else will be waiting for you back at the palace.

But tonight, you're content to enjoy all of this.

And tomorrow, no matter what, you'll face everything with Minho by your side.

546 notes · View notes

finisnihil · 29 days

Text

Hey guys so a while back I went insane and made a list of things we know about Luocha and the coffin entity that took an hour of scrounging every second of screen time and references to his person

These lists were made as of 2.1.

So what we know about the Coffin Entity TM:

•Is being delivered to the Xianzhou despite the fact nobody on the Xianzhou stores their dead the way this person is stored. Also, Lucoha hasn’t “delivered” it yet he still is carting it around despite being on the Xianzhou. It also seems whoever he’s delivering it to is of the Ten Lords Commission and he's aiming to go to the Xianzhou Xuling with it

•They met only once and it was during some sort of conflict Luocha became involved in

•The coffin is being delivered on somebody else’s behalf, possibly the deceased’s or another third party's

•The coffin entity is not considered a friend, lover, or relative

•Luocha proposed a deal of some kind that he’s still waiting to see the entity uphold

•The entity isn’t quite dead as it is temperamental and jabs Luocha with thorny vines when he upsets it. The coffin also has an emphasis on being silent as though whatever is in it can talk back and chooses not to

•Luocha considers their relationship a business one

•Luocha says he and the entity underestimated each other, particularly when Luocha proposed the deal

•He states he and the entity both wanted to use each other

And now, what we know about Luocha:

•He’s a wandering merchant who is registered with the IPC and the Xianzhou Yuque

•He seems to come from an aristocratic or wealthy background based on his clothes and speech and sword (An Épée which is used in fencing, a sport typically practiced by European royalty and the upper class since the 14th Century as that’s when the oldest fencing records seem to hail from)

•He’s considered an Abomination of the Abundance and he confirms his power stems from Yaoshi

•He has no home according to him

•He can heal both organic and inorganic life forms

•He’s looking into immortality of some kind which is interesting because he also seems to have a negative view of immortality and even notes Mara-struck being used as "sacrifices to the Abundance". He also says yearning for immortality as a short-life species is normal and to avoid doing so would be like killing an Aeon.

•He wants to kill Yaoshi

•He’s working with Jingliu to kill Yaoshi and I think Jingliu is the “other business” he had to attend to

•He isn’t the one who snuck on the Stellaron despite turning himself in for doing so. He says he delivered it without knowing its significance but once again he can can sense Stellarons so that doesn't hold much water.

•He doesn’t know VA (Void Archives)

•He he’s wary of Jing Yuan and tries to avoid to being watched by him

•He “changes his mask” so to speak to fit in different situations which matches the fact he goes by the alias Luocha when on the Xianzhou

•His clothes are that of his home world and he wears them “to remind him of the path he must keep treading”

•On his home planet he was involved with a church/church-based society

•His city was destroyed and he was perhaps the only survivor? Possibly related to the Knight of Purity Palace set?

•Many Xianzhou natives say he works and speaks like an older Xianzhou native

•He has a very similar design as Yaoshi

•Before he arrived on the Xianzhou he had a diviner tell him “not to be concerned with the destination, but to seize [his] chances and travel with the current to reap the greatest harvest”

•Luocha is an alias, not his real name, and he only goes by Luocha on the Xianzhou and his real name is noted to be a "tongue-twister" by himself and Jing Yuan

•He’s always wanted to visit the Herta Space Station

•According to Jing Yuan, he "isn't in any hurry to conduct business" and in Jingliu's quest he says Luocha didn't conduct any trade during his stay and his departure lined up with the calamities taking place

•He doesn't like seeing flowers wither but does later note "maybe it's not so bad after all"

•Jingliu says he's "just like her" in that he has a "hole" in his heart that no matter what he does he cannot fill it and just exhausts himself in the effort to do so

•He sells "uncommon trinkets"

•He considers friendship precious

•He typically doesn't get eye bags from staying up

•He's renting a like AirBNB type residence to stay in instead of the Petrichor Inn where he normally stays. He notes it "helps him forget his identity as a traveling merchant"

•One of his hobbies is observing and experiencing the Xianzhou natives' way of life

•He considers himself not great as opening conversations

•He seems to like wine as he left us some when he departed from the Express

•The flower that is his motif is a white lily which represents rebirth

•Jing Yuan admitted he outsmarted him

•Luocha has a weird motif in his related achievements of dancing (Coffin Dancer and Wardance: Épée Trial)

•He broke into the Shackling Prison but seemingly did nothing. Luocha states that in doing so he found the Luofu didn't have what he was looking for

•Jing Yuan mentions he's infamous for being involved in matters at locations called Eternity Fortress and Shroudveil Starzone which I can't find mention of anywhere, so I don't know these locations

•Dahao tells us that upon being arrested Luocha was charged with identity fraud and smuggling dangerous bio-merchandise among other crimes, which Dahao points out is weird and vague.

•He considers the Clous Knight's devotion to Lan as making them "closed-minded". He says there's other factions other than those of Lan who want Yaoshi dead and that they must "look to the source for the solution" to severing Yaoshi's curse

•He also has an understanding of traditional medicine and will write prescriptions for people

•He likes to do little kind things for people with no expectation of being recognized or praised for it

•He constantly stresses he's a noncombatant and while he can hold his own in small-scale conflicts he seems to rely on more experienced fighters in more serious ones and this is reflected in his sword which an Épée, a kind of heavy fencing sword

•He’s interested in and holds a great deal of respect for Elias Salas which is interesting because Elias Salas is notable for not wanting to extend his lifespan despite being able to and died at 103

I probably missed some stuff but I scrounged all this from lightcones, voice lines, character stories, relic backstories, quests, messages, trailers, etc. If I missed anything let me know! Some of these are obviously more relevant than others but if I missed anything let me know and I'll add it to the list!

I wish I could add the screenshots of where I got everything but posts have picture limits so if anyone's curious where I found certain information feel free to ask and I'll reply with where I found it.

Have a great day, mwah!

#honkai star rail #Luocha #Finis Analyzes #Am I insane for this? Probably #Doc was so tired of me #She will never know peace fr

120 notes · View notes

wee-snek · 8 months

Text

Ineffable (pre-2000's) Timeline

Before the Beginning

We don’t know how long before The Beginning this was, or how long they may have known each other in ‘heaven’ before Eden. We don’t know if one (or both) of them had their memory of the other erased (I think there's quite a lot of speculation about this, so I can't link just one example).

Angel!Crowley is the most adorable thing in all creation, but he asks some very innocent and appropriate questions and Aziraphale is scared for him (and maybe scared of him?)

Crowley shelters Aziraphale with their wing. Adorable. Love it.

4004 BC: Eden

Aziraphale gives away his flaming sword in his first official act of doing-good-against-God’s-wishes and Crowley immediately fucking eats it up.

"You're an angel, I don't think you can do the wrong thing" is well-intentioned but probably sets up a less-than-helpful anchoring point for Aziraphale's morality (see various points below about Aziraphale's moral evolution trajectory and rationalising Heaven's actions).

Aziraphale shelters Crowley from the rain (and the best part is that Crowley moves in, closer to Aziraphale, BEFORE Aziraphale puts his wing up. Fucking lovebirds. Ridiculous)

3004 BC: The Flood

Crowley seeks out Aziraphale at the flood. Essentially just shows up to flirt.

Aziraphale clearly doesn’t like the flood-and-death plan but he also isn’t ready to speak negatively about God. He defends the flood as “not that bad” and goes all “no comment” about killing kids (because he can’t actually defend that bit). Not a huge fan of heaven already by this point, but either too brainwashed or too scared (or both) to actively say anything non-conforming out loud.

Crowley is appalled by the idea of killing children, has always been a rebellious little cinnamon roll.

“You still have one [unicorn]” implies that Crowley either doesn’t know the point of the Ark (unlikely, he didn’t show up here by chance) or he doesn’t know about the birds and the bees. (Is it at all possible that Bildad The Professional Cobbler/Midwife still didn’t know what sex and childbirth were? No solid evidence that he had any plan other than pulling the ribs out. He’s so stupid)

(Theory: Others have considered that this meeting was more involved than what we’ve been shown so far because 1- by the Job incident Aziraphale is real damn convinced that Crowley won’t hurt the kids and 2- “sudden rainstorm forces them together under a canopy” doesn’t actually fit with either of the times our lovebirds sheltered the other under their respective wings, because neither time was sheltering “together”. So maybe this sudden rainstorm is what Crowley is actually referencing and there’s more here we haven’t seen). (Theory 2.0 is this wildly long meta that basically is a dissertation on why the kissed during the Flood and I’m here for it).

2500 BC: The Job Incident

Ugh, I love this episode. Nothing but endless love for our baby Bildad.

Appears to be a chance meeting between them.

They BOTH DEFY ORDERS to save the children.

When the bird-goats make a noise, Crowley turns around before Aziraphale says anything. He was HOPING that Aziraphale would catch on, he was baiting his Angel to see that he was going to save the kids. Which, I mean, we all already know Crowley is a softie and he’s not really tried that hard to hide it from Aziraphale in the history we’ve seen so far, so…tone down the evil demon cosplay, babe. We’re past that.

Crowley saving the kids isn’t surprising. But we actually have a big jump for Aziraphale here. When we originally only had the Flood and the Crucifixion in S1, the evolution of Aziraphale’s “defence” of Heaven seems subtle and slow between those two short scenes. But throwing this epic story in the middle? Genuinely a MASSIVE shift from rationalising Heaven’s plans for the flood to assuming he knows what God is thinking + actively collaborating with a demon and trusting a demon more than his fellow angels + willing to be literally damned to save three random kids. (Could easily argue that this seeming anachronism in Aziraphale’s arc [along with Bildad’s stupid hair] makes it all the more plausible that there is a magic trick happening here).

Aziraphale says that Crowley is “technically” a demon. (I see what you’re getting at there. I see you, Aziraphale)

Aziraphale tries human food for the first time. Odd sexual tension. I won’t elaborate.

When Aziraphale is sitting by the ocean, he’s waiting to be punished and thinks that’s why Crowley came over. But Crowley doesn’t know this. He was just coming over to spend more time with Aziraphale for totally platonic reasons.

Crowley has the chance to take Aziraphale to hell as a demon, and declines (hmmm, foreshadowing us all getting our hearts ripped out a few short episodes later???)

Crowley’s appearance: people have speculated on why they look so different here compared to the Flood and the Crucifixion. My theory is that the other to flashbacks (seen in S1) are Crowley going about her life and just popping in to flirt with Aziraphale, whereas with Job, Crowley is showing up to work. The Bildad getup is a work outfit, demon cosplay. Long hair and no sunglasses is Crowley being himself, and silly hair silly glasses is creating a character to play while hiding his eyes because humans are around AND he’s vulnerable when hell is watching.

Bonus happy thought: when they get the kids in the cellar they start bickering like an old married couple/BLATANTLY flirting and the kids are just...so confused. Fucking delightful.

33 AD: Crucifixion

Crowley seeks out Aziraphale.

Crowley has changed their name.

By this time, when Crowley says “Heaven’s being a bit shitty” Aziraphale doesn’t actually defend Heaven? “I’m not consulted on policy decisions” is much closer to “I know they’re awful but I can’t change anything” as opposed to trying to rationalise that heaven must, by default, be good. (See note above about Aziraphale’s non-linear moral evolution).

Not much else here except Crowley looking their absolute most gorgeous in all of history.

41 AD: Rome

Crowley having a bad day. A lot of people have written about how after the Crucifixion and everything else that has happened so far, baby bean is fucking disillusioned as all hell.

Crowley makes obvious ploy to get Aziraphale to ask him on a date, and it works. Delightful.

Bonus happy thought: the little pins each of them is wearing on their togas? The fucking angel wings and the snake? Nothing but love for the Good Omens costume department.

537 AD: Wessex knights

No idea if they’ve met between Rome and now, but I’m pretty sure they have? Aziraphale recognizes Crowley’s voice immediately, I feel like they’ve talked sometime (oodles of times?) in the previous 500 years.

Proposed Arrangement. Aziraphale very dramatically declines for corporate reasons. Not so much “working together is wrong” but that “working together is against the rules”.

Could possibly argue that this feels like a step backwards for Aziraphale since the Job incident. But I think, no? With Job, the stakes were high and they were literally saving innocent lives. Here, The Arrangement is presented more like cheating on homework. Like, this is just a report for work, I’m not going to risk being reprimanded for something trivial like faking a sick day. Because Aziraphale still wants Heaven’s (God’s) approval quite badly: he’ll risk his life to save human lives, but not to save himself a trek to a castle.

1601: Globe Theatre

By the now The Arrangement is well established. Aziraphale puts up a very lazy fight against it, but caves almost immediately.

We can see already that Aziraphale is concerned that Crowley could get in trouble over their relationship, but I don’t think he has really realized how much danger Crowley is in? Like, if he genuinely thought destruction was on the line, he might have protested more. But it’s still important here that Aziraphale is concerned with Crowley’s safety above his own.

I believe Aziraphale asked Crowley to meet up at the theatre from what Crowley says about “you said we would blend in with the crowds”.

Bonus happy thought: I’ve seen people speculate about whether the coin toss was rigged. I choose to believe they BOTH rigged it so that Aziraphale would go to Scotland bc Crowley didn’t want to go, and Aziraphale knows that Crowley can’t ride a horse so was totally keen to save him from that ordeal.

1650: not shown

Something happens and Aziraphale does the “I was wrong” dance

I wrote elsewhere that this could be a promise of something we will be shown in Season 3 -OR- it could be a Clue that memories are missing (see The Magic Trick You Didn’t See)

Also, despite all the wonderful suggestions people have from actual history about what these two might have gotten mixed up in in 1650, my personal prediction is that if we see this in Season 3, the actual Thing that led to the dance will be extremely trivial, like Aziraphale knocks over Crowley's drink or something.

1793: The Bastille

Aziraphale gets himself in a damsel-in-distress situation and Crowley “has to” save him. Obvious ploy to go on a date. Flawless.

Crowley is clearly following Aziraphale around, since he showed up at exactly the right time. Zero coincidence detected.

Aziraphale has absolutely no issue with the executioner being beheaded in his place. Bit ruthless to sacrifice a random stranger for the cause of taking your crush out to lunch.

At some point, Aziraphale does the “I was wrong” dance here. Hopefully over crepes.

1827: Scotland

Crowley essentially just takes Aziraphale on a date to a graveyard. Such a mood.

Some obvious moral struggles for Aziraphale starting to realize that good and bad are not black and white and that extenuating circumstances exist.

Whether or not you believe that this memory was tampered with, when Morag is dying, Aziraphale essentially asks for Crowley’s moral guidance. He could have just healed Morag, but he defers to Crowley for ?permission...I don’t know for sure, but it feels significant that he wants Crowley’s approval here before doing ‘good’. That has to mean something.

“Last I saw of him for some time” is, at most, 35 years between here and St James Park, which means they are meeting up a lot more frequently now. We’re not regularly going decades/centuries between dates anymore.

Edit: As others have noted, the wording in this diary entry is actually odd because when Aziraphale is writing this, he MUST have already seen Crowley again for that last bit to make sense. Which means we actually probably have quite a lot of “us time” between the Elsbeth flashback and St James park.

1862: St James Park

Likely Definitely not the first time they have met up since the Scotland flashback (see edit above).

I THINK this is the first time we see Aziraphale’s personal tartan show up? He’s now officially created his own clan on Earth and is NOT wearing the official tartan of heaven. He later gives this tartan to Crowley which is Significant.

Since our last meeting, Crowley has been dragged back to Hell and, presumably, punished, for what he did with Elsbeth/Morag. (The time spent in Hell was likely not necessarily a LONG time but still seems like it was a sobering event for Crowley where he seems to catch up with Aziraphale about how much danger they might be in).

Crowley asks for the holy water because he now realizes that he may need to protect himself (and Aziraphale?) from Hell if and when they figure out the scope of his ‘breach of the infernal code’ and retaliate.

1941: London Blitz

Accepted by fans as likely the first time they have met up since the breakup in St James Park. As with the Bastille scene, it’s very clear that Crowley has been keeping track of Aziraphale (if not actively just following him around).

Obviously, canonically, the moment when Aziraphale realizes he is in love with Crowley.

Immediately after this realization, Aziraphale also realises how much Crowley is at risk from Hell by continuing to associate with him. This does not stop them from having a romantic glass of wine back at the bookshop.

Photograph of Crowley and Aziraphale exists, no clues as to what happens to it/who keeps it after the events of this night. I hope it’s in the photo album that I assume Aziraphale keeps with his diaries and little drawings of Crowley he’s made over the millennia.

At some point, presumably on this same night, Aziraphale does the “I was wrong” dance, but we don’t get to see that. Yet.

(Side note: I feel like by this point in their relationship, it’s really got to sting when Aziraphale assumes Crowley is the cause of whatever horrific thing humans are doing. I mean, what in the past 6,000 years would point to Crowley wanting to actually help nazis? It’s not funny anymore, Aziraphale, stop re-traumatising your boyfriend with baseless accusations.)

1967: Soho Heist

Crowley plans the heist in the pub that is literally across the road from Aziraphale’s book shop

Aziraphale finally gives Crowley holy water – whether this is because he’s actually worried about the danger of the heist, or if he has just come to his senses about the fact that Crowley is in mortal danger from Hell and may actually need a way to escape them if things go pear-shaped, or whether he’s just acts-of-love reaching out....could speculate for days on that.

He gives Crowley the holy water in a thermos with his personal tartan on it. 100% on their own side. Adorable.

Aziraphale isn’t wearing his bow tie in this scene. He still has his tartan, but he’s wearing it as a cravat instead, with his shirt unbuttoned at the top. I genuinely don’t know what this is supposed to mean, but the costume department is too good for it to be random. (It supposed to be flirty? Like, ooh, top button undone, basically naked? And that just necessitated losing the bow tie? Is there sartorial symbolism here about a cravat vs bow tie that I’m missing? Tell me what’s going on!?!)

“You go too fast for me” (ugh, gutted every time)

Additional event: year unknown

In their earlier flashbacks, we see them travelling the world for their jobs.

At some point they both end up permanently stationed in London.

My assumption is - that originally it was just the two of them on earth, possibly for thousands of years. Then their territory was limited to the British Isles, and eventually, when there were too many “oodles” of humans, they both ended up just looking after London.

So, who was assigned to London first? Because it’s not a blind coincidence they’re both specifically in London - one got assigned to the London first and the other one deliberately FOLLOWED.

I am still updating this as I re-watch and read other folks’ posts.

These are mostly my observations with a few additional things thrown in that I’ve seen people discuss already here on Tumblr. I will try to link to them best I can, but my Good Omens saved posts are massive and I’m not sure I can find all the original posts who's theories I’ve mentioned here

#ineffible husbands #crowley #good omens #ineffible #good omens 2 #good omens theories #good omens theory #aziraphale #Ineffable Husbands #Ineffable #Good Omens 1 and 2 #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #aziraphale x crowley

363 notes · View notes