#he /would/ execute someone for harming sun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corpsebasil · 1 year

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hi!! since your requests are open I was wondering if you could write a nikolai x a grisha reader that can summon the dead -> when someone from the palace finds out they try to kill her/get rid of her and nikolai tries to keep her safe since she's not evil or harmful <3 tumblr sadly won't let me make this post anonymously idk why though

I can indeed bestie

The Grisha had never seen such power.

They murmured curses and prayers under their breath as she passed in chains, her head held high, refusing to do anything besides look down her nose at the people she’d saved in the battle against the Darkling.

Hundreds. Hundreds of people still lived and breathed thanks to her gift of Summoning. Sure, the Sun Summoner was a Saint thanks to her light, and the Darkling had been revered for centuries for his darkness. But she. She was something different, and had never used her power as a weapon before that day.

“Witch.” A Grisha snarled as she passed, no matter the fact that the word in itself was derogatory towards the Grisha. She turned her head slowly, locking eyes with the man.

“What did you call me?” She asked, voice heavenly in its softness, and his face blanched.

“Y/N—” a hand grasped her arm, the guards around her bristling as the intruder interrupted her path to the dais. Towards the execution that would surely follow. “I’m going to get you out of this. I swear it.”

Prince Nikolai’s eyes were desperate as he stared at you, but a lethal calm had settled through your body, your soul, the minute you had stepped out onto the battlefield. He’d been your lover for the past several months, the fling beginning the moment he’d seen you hiding in the garden, secretly bringing a hawk back to life. The poor thing had been injured and fallen out of a tree, the fall too far for survival, but your steady hands guided it gently from the Afterlife, your heart breaking at the unnecessary loss. The bird loved you, even still, and had perched on your shoulder as you went into war, it’s battle cry vicious when it dove for the enemy Grisha.

“I will accept punishment.” You informed the prince, unused to any show of wild emotion from him. Sure, he’d flirted with you since he’d met you, and was a merciless tease, but the bedroom is where you got the know His Highness very, very well. Hours and hours of lips and tongues and hands, although you always kicked him out after, to his chagrin. “Do not insult me by causing a scene.”

He looked hurt, watching with a panicked expression as you stepped closer to the Queen. She still had the authority until the prince was crowned and, though he had sway, the ultimate decision would be her own. Her last decree, if anything; a last stand to power.

“Do you admit to the crimes against the world you committed during the battle against General Kirigan?” The queen demanded, watching with a sneer as the guards forced Y/N onto her knees.

The girl cocked her head, as if listening to something. She’d always heard the whispers of the fallen, and now they urged her on. Gave her strength.

“I do.” She said calmly, too calmly, and the queen shifted in her seat.

Y/N had walked out onto that battlefield, hawk perched on her shoulder, and Nikolai had balked. He felt fear, genuine fear, when the girl had clasped her hands together and then threw her arms out, raising them above her hand with a clawing motion. As if she was pulling something out of the ground. As if she was Summoning—

The Grisha had screamed, some even wept, as hands shot from the Earth, dragging themselves free from the dirt’s confines. And Y/N had moved forward, flanked on each side by an army, an army, of over a thousand dead Grisha, still able to use their power against the enemy. The opposite side of the war had balked; most ran in outright terror, some fainted, but a few brave souls tried to stand their ground.

But how can you kill the dead?

Afterwards, amid the silence, Y/N had stood still as her army of undead warriors dipped their heads to her, grateful for one last chance to defend their country and home. And when she blew a magic enhanced breath towards them, her hands guiding the air, they vanished in a cloud of smoke and ash, their journey back to the underworld commenced.

She’d been arrested the moment she arrived back at the palace, not even allowed the time to clean up before she was dragged into the throne room. Dark magic, they claimed. Forbidden. Nevermind that she had saved their sorry asses.

“And what—” the queen asked, glaring down at her. “do you think is an appropriate punishment for your…heresy?”

“Is it heresy to save your Grisha?” She mused, eyes narrowing further. “I have used my gifts to defeat the Darkling. I am—”

“Your gifts?” The queen’s tone was mocking and Y/N bristled. “I hope that you mean your curse.”

“It is a gift, Your Majesty.“ She insisted, even as she met the queen’s hateful glare with her own. “Do not mistake me for weak. I do not apologize.”

The queen thrust her hand out abruptly, pissed, and pointed to the nearest guard.

“Bring her head to me.” The queen snarled, and Y/N, despite herself, tensed with fear when the guard approached, sliding his sword out.

Her heart stopped as she swallowed, trying to ignore the blade and what it would feel like striking her neck.

“You will not.” Nikolai lunged forward out of the crowd, stepping into the guard’s path. “She protected you. Defended you.” This he said to the Grisha, his savage glare upon them. “You would allow one of your own to die over—over fear?” He spat on the floor, at the queen’s feet, and his mother recoiled. “The gift for saviors is death, is it?” His tone became deadly, eyes narrowed even as Y/N gaped up at him in surprise. “Then kill me, too. Because I have known of her power for months, and have never feared it.”

Y/N knew that was a lie, knew that he’d flinched when she’d summoned the Grisha, but… could he mean it when he said he believed her innocence? Could the prince of Ravka somehow save her?

“This witch has blinded you.” His mother said, glaring down at the pair. “You do not know what you say.”

“I know she saved hundreds of Grisha.” Nikolai pushed, voice hard. “I know that she hasn’t used her power, has repressed it, until it was completely necessary. I know that I care about her, and if you kill her, you will not have a king to succeed you.”

The queen blanched, Y/N’s mouth hanging open in shock, as Grisha murmured to themselves in the crowd. Nikolai turned and met his lover’s stare with a look of sorrow, before glaring back up at the queen.

“Kill her,” he warned, pointing a damning finger at the queen. “and I’ll follow right after her into the afterlife. I will not live in a world without her.” Then he smirked, half-heartedly, tossing his eyes to his Grisha lover. “Perhaps she’d pull us both back from death if she tried.”

The queen’s face was red hot, but she stood, waving the guards away. When she spoke, her voice weakened, and something in Nikolai relaxed. He’d almost seen the love of his life’s head taken off, for Saints sakes.

“I see you have chosen your side.” She accused him, her expression tight. “Fine. Spare the girl. But if she’s caught meddling with the dead again…” the silent threat was enough. Y/N bristled but stood, inclining her head in the most insignificant motion of deference possible that the queen almost changed her mind.

And so Y/N stood, head high as the guards unlocked her binds, before she strode quickly and stoically out of the throne room.

She’d taken one step into her room before her face crumpled, her knees giving out as she slid onto the floor. Her hawk, watching from its perch on the windowsill, clicked its beak at her as if in question.

She wiped her tears away with her hands and heaved for breath, her fear of almost being beheaded gripping her entire body. And then a knock sounded, the door opening slowly as a person moved into the room. He sat on the floor beside her, not speaking, just offering her his company as she calmed herself down.

“Thank you.” She whispered, sniffing as she turned her head to look at him. Nikolai’s expression was pained, full of sorrow and something warmer, and her heart seized a bit inside her chest. “For…saving me.”

“Thank you for saving us.” He murmured, reaching out to hold her hand in his own. He took a deep, steadying breath, before looking up at her. “I will find you somewhere. Somewhere nice to—to live.” He swallowed. “Did you know I own a house not even half an hour away from here? Lovely place. There’s even a small pond you could swim in.”

“Nikolai, I cant—”

“You don’t have to stay here. Not after being so thoroughly disrespected.” His blue eyes were sad, but a small smile still appeared on his face. He had threatened to…to follow her if she was executed. She felt her breathing grow shallow as he spoke, still holding her hand in his own. “Although I will miss you. But I can visit on weekends, or—”

She moved forward, gripping his jacket as she pressed her mouth to his, a tear slipping down her cheek as she kissed him. And when she pulled away, running a thumb down his cheek, she shook her head.

“Where you go, I go.” She promised, absentmindedly wiping the moisture off her face. “If you want to stay here, to live here, then I’ll stay with you.” She smiled shyly, absorbing the look of adoration he was giving her. “You’ll be king. No one can hurt me but you.”

“Never.” He swore, tugging her close as he placed a soft kiss to her mouth. “I’d never hurt you.”

She believed him. And then her thoughts turned mischievous.

“You know what you can do to console me after my near death experience?” She teased, amusement washing over his features as he raised an eyebrow.

“What might that be?” He asked, feigning confused even as he pulled her onto his lap. So she leaned in, murmuring a couple of words into his ear, and the mumbled curse that left his lips made her laugh. And then she squeaked in surprise as he lifted her, locking the door before tossing her onto her bed.

hello I hope this is something like what you wanted

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #wattpad #shadow and bone imagine #fluff

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despairots · 5 months

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- my blood is singing with your voice , #o. dazai!

description, osamu dazai’s a kid. he still is, but it’s fine; he’s been exploited at 14, yet he’s terrifying. you never met him one on one, only observed him from a distance. | ( r’s opinion and history with the port mafia! ) ( a continuation of my special oneshot of “a night to remember” )

— story contains, swearing, suicide jokes, self harm implied, r! being insane, mafia activities, murder? violence, mental health, obsessive love disorder ( reader! ) please tell me if i missed anything! gender neutral! reader. age 15 - 18 ( 15 arc and dark era )

this is a continuous series of “a night to remember!” r!’s ability is based off rofū miki’s book: the sick rose (their overall genuinely character is based of the author aswell) r!'s ability: the user possesses poisonous blood they can use against their opponent or when threatened. if someone were to touch via skin contact or inhale the smell of their blood, the person will become severely ill. they wear any port mafia would wear; white button up, black blazer, and pants but r! wears a gauze around their neck.

you hardly remembered what it felt like to admire someone from afar. when it involved someone like dazai, the first initial thought was to fear him. from his list of crimes, his intelligence that extended to the title he was given.

“the demon prodigy.” a title he earned at the age of 15. although, a name like that should fit him, it doesn’t for some odd reason. maybe because he was still a kid like you, a kid who was mislead their entire life.

osamu dazai doesn’t know you, you know him though— after all, his name and position gives him a lot of attention. you’re a simple mafioso who’s been taken because of your ability, there was nothing all that special about you.

it’s scary that someone around your age can cause such destructive and damage, but at the same time, it wasn’t scary. you’ve never seen a boy climb up the ranks so aggressively fast. dazai’s extremely talented, yet so young that you wondered; was he always this much of prodigy when he was younger?

spectating (more like stalking) afar says a lot about your character and the community you grew up in. the port mafia taught kids to commit crimes to grow the port mafia, dazai joining caused the criminal organization to sky rocket.

he’s laid missions with no casualties (if you minus the mobs getting killed), his missions going smoothly and he’s the right hand man of mori, not only that, the youngest port mafia executive.

although, he carries such a terrifying image and name, you’re someone who does not care about that. if he hurts somebody, or if someday hurts me, the same red blood will be shred. only you can see his blood seeping through the wounds he inflicts on himself.

you would choose him, even if it meant destruction of the world. it’s a selfish, atrocious choice. and yet, it looks more like love.

acting is like love; you can’t do it alone. if you know how to surrender, then you know what to do when you act. loving another is an act of total surrender. love only appears when you surrender your heart, ego, and whole self for someone else.

dazai has a tone that sinks into the abyss of the spirit, and deep, dark eyes that seem to hold the conviction that the sun will never rise again.

you admired him… and the world he created. a universe without him, you can’t even imagine it. he’s poison to you. everything he says, his whole being. he can circulate within you and you can feel him changing me from the inside.

he could be your downfall.

#⑴ kaz’s written works!#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x female reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x male reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x female reader #dazai x reader #dazai x gender neutral reader #dazai x male reader #osamu dazai bsd #dazai bsd #bungou stray dogs dazai

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cafemoony · 9 months

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The Seven Seas and Beyond - [act i] reunion

» description

as the daughter of the grand duke, you never expected to be an outlaw. however, an impulsive decision, including saving a pirate from the most infamous crew, leads you to go on the run and join said group. now you are forced to navigate the stormy seas with eight wanted men by your side as obstacle after obstacle tries to prevent your group's happy ending.

» pairing

ot8 pirate! ateez x fem! noble! reader

» genre

fluff, angst, pirate au, slowburn

» chapter warnings

swearing

Rumours are everywhere, especially in the world of the rich. They can be harmful, preying and devouring their victims until they are nothing but a shadow of their past selves. Conversely, they could raise someone onto higher pedestals, lifting them and creating an image of who everyone would want to be. There was a particular rumour that floated around you, ever since you were a young girl, that could be viewed as good or bad. They said you knew everything, from simple arithmetic questions to predictions on the future of certain people, you knew it all. So why is it, for all the knowledge and wisdom people claimed you had, that you could not think about what to do now that you see your childhood friend in front of you, about to be executed for being a member of an infamous pirate crew?

The morning started sombre, as it usually does within the [l/n] household. Today marked a decade since Choi San absconded, the person who had been your best friend in your youth. In all your memories with him, the sun had always been shining as the two of you ran around hand-in-hand, the wind blowing your hair behind you and bright smiles adorning both of your faces. Ever since he left, it felt like nothing but rainstorms and hail.

You had a very busy and packed schedule today, one that would take a toll on you physically and mentally. Overseeing an execution, no matter how guilty the other party was, would always drain you of energy like a greedy little vampire hungry for blood. Despite this, you chose to wake up early, even before dawn so you could head to your latibule. This was a place your mother had shown you and the only other person to have been here besides the two of you was San, thus, making it the perfect hang-out spot for when you were children. It also made it the most fitting place to let him go.

You clung to hope that he would one day return for you, but now at the age of 23, you realize that he most likely wouldn’t. You would soon inherit the [l/n] Dukedom and it was time for you to leave the shadows of your past behind, including the friend that abandoned you. Even though this was your goal, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of that silver pendant so all you left behind at the old Aehulkonet tree was your friendship ring.

On the trip down to the capital to start your official business, it had started to rain and the world seemed to be weeping for the lost friendship. You had brought along a parasol, having predicted that it would rain later in the day based on the clouds. You took your time, pulling your fur jacket tighter against you while savouring what little freedom you still had left.

Upon reaching the capital, you weren’t shocked to see the amount of people surrounding the town square. Today’s execution was special in the eyes of the Lycoris Empire. A pirate from the Ateez crew had been captured and brought in for punishment. This specific pirate crew is notorious for constantly stealing from the nobles and even the royals. There were tales of them committing sexual assault, child slavery, and even murder. All in all, they were very detestable beings.

You knew what to expect. This would be another old haggard pirate in their late 50s, with crooked teeth and a hook for a hand. Pirate execution was commonplace in the capital with how many of them were crawling around. This was just another unfortunate fool that got caught. So imagine your surprise when you were greeted by the striking face of a man in his early 20s, with full lips and platinum blond hair. And despite all those years apart, you could recognize those sharp eyes anywhere. That was Choi San and you would be damned if you let him die before you got answers.

It took you a while to gain your wits once again, your brain scrambling to formulate a plan. Seeing him chained up was a vast contrast to his normally cheery face and combined with the shock of seeing him after so long, you had been shaken up. You schooled your shocked face back to the one of practiced apathy. Straightening your back and raising your head, your presence demanded respect and caused the sea of people to immediately part ways for you. Marching your way to the front of the crowd, you refused to let yourself waver even as San’s shocked eyes met your own cold ones.

“Release him.” Your command shocked everyone and for a moment there was a stunned silence before chaos erupted.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘release him’?!”

“How could you side with a monster like him?!”

The crowd fell silent the second you raised your hand, stern and apathetic eyes scanned the rows of people who filled the snowy streets. “I have personal issues with this one. He had stolen something very valuable from me and I want it back. I don’t care whether you want him to die today, he will perish when I say so and that will be when I receive what I have lost from him.” You left no room for argument, not like anyone would dare go against you anyway.

Turning your gaze to the guards, you gestured for them to bring him to you. They did so shakily, handing you the chain connected to his cuffs. San’s astonished expression had yet to leave his face, dark brown eyes staring at you like you were some otherworldly saviour, which in his case, you supposed you were. You yanked hard on his chain, snapping him out of his stupor and causing him to stumble. Tsking, you turned heel and left with him trailing behind you.

You brought him through an alleyway before promptly turning and unlocking his chains. As they fell to the ground, you stared directly into his eyes. “You are going to take me to your ship and you are going to convince your captain to let me join your crew, understood?”

San stuttered, trying to process what happened. “Huh? W-wait, wha- Y-you want to join? Aren’t you mad?” You snorted, an action you knew your stepmother would hit you for using her fan.

“Of course I am. I’m pissed actually,” you stated as you started to drag him toward the ports, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you ran off and when I see you again, you’re a wanted criminal? You're an absolute bastard and I detest you. I can’t believe you turned your back on the kingdom to become a pirate of all things.”

(Despite what you said, you could never really hate San. You just loathed the fact that you still cared for him, even after he abandoned you first.)

San followed you willingly, tilting his head in the manner you always adored. “Then why did you help me? And why would you want to join me?” You rolled your eyes, spinning around and shoving him against the cold stone walls of the building behind him.

“Because,” you emphasized this by jabbing your finger on his chest, “I’ll be wanted too for freeing you. Bitchass royals are going to see this as treason even if I said I had personal issues with you and would punish you myself. So in return for saving you, you are going to help me join your crew to ensure my safety and give me answers to why you fucking left without a damn word.” Normally, you wouldn’t swear, it wasn’t how you were raised but today had been a rollercoaster of emotions and you had to let it out somehow.

San blinked before laughing, finding your profanity funny. “Alright, alright, I owe you that much.” Taking your hand, delicately just like he did in the past, he started pulling you along in the opposite direction you were going in. “Also, you were headed the wrong way.”

You huff, the air condensing where you let out a breath. “Smartass. Shut up and focus on getting us there before we both get caught and executed.

~~~*~~~

San led you through the winding alleyways with expertise only found in people who frequented the area and despite the life-threatening danger looming above the two of you, you couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, transported back to times of your youth. Often, when you were stressed and needed a break from classes, San would sneak you out of your manor and bring you to the capital. In order to avoid detection by your guards, you guys would traverse the shadows and alleys, places that no one would expect the two of you to be. It was during those times that you could let go and be free, San’s warm hands and bright smile sending a fuzzy feeling through you. You wished you could go back to those times.

One of the places you two discovered was a river that led out to the ocean. It was a discreet location that the authorities didn’t know about. You supposed this was the reason San had gotten his crew to dock the ship here.

(You hated the fact that you felt upset that this was no longer a secret only you and San knew about.)

His ship was beautiful, vastly different from what you imagined it to be. Tales told by the townsfolk always depicted it to be old, falling apart like a ghost ship. It shocked you to see a well-maintained vessel towering over you, the main body made of oakwood and the black flags well taken care of. “Beautiful, isn’t she? We named her Destiny.” San spoke up and instantly your mood dampened at the knowledge of the name.

(He used to call you Destiny and playfully claimed you were his past, present, and future. It left a bitter taste in your mouth knowing that he used to call you the same thing he does his ship.)

You scoffed and threw your head to the side, unwilling to let him see how hurt you were by that name. “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, I suppose. I’ve seen far better and grander ships.” You ignored San’s knowing smile. You were sure that San still understood you inside out even with the decade apart. That cheeky grin was because he knew you actually preferred rustic and simple vessels, having had enough of the blinding white ships covered head to toe with glittering diamonds. A highly unnecessary display of the wealth the nobles had to throw around.

“SAN!” You startled. A blur crashed into San, entrapping him in a hug. The only thing you can distinguish from this person is that they were a male and he had black hair. Oh, and he was currently crying and sobbing out words between sniffles that you could not make out. You eyed the rather pitiful display in front of you with San desperately trying to soothe the distraught man who was currently rubbing snot and tears all over San’s clothes, ruining them. Though, admittedly, his clothes weren’t all that nice to begin with…

You allowed them a moment, figuring that this was one of San’s friends from his crew. You weren’t heatless enough to deprive the two of them of much-needed relief no matter how much you hated San at the moment.

(You really didn’t hate him. It’s just you’ve become a very petty being who knows how to hold her grudges.)

Eventually, you had enough and figured it was time to get moving. The mystery man’s cries could easily alert the hunting dogs the Royal Guards owned and you didn’t want to risk getting caught. It would be a shame to save one person only to have three recaptured.

Clearing your throat, you drew attention to yourself when you started to speak. “While I hate to disrupt this touching reunion, I must remind you of the guards currently on our tail. This can surely be continued elsewhere,” you dryly said with a rather monotone voice.

Whipping around, the raven-haired male glared at you and untangled himself from San in favour of standing in front of him defensively. You found that rather amusing. In what way did he think an unarmed female donning a 14-pound dress, a thick fur coat and heels could take him and San down? Then again, looks deceive people. Your stepmother was a prime example of that. It also didn’t help that you have a leather pouch strapped on your right thigh. So yeah, thinking about it, you could understand the mistrust. It didn’t make it any less funny though.

“Who the fuck are you?” He growled out, hand reaching for the sword strapped to his side. San was quick to pull him back.

“Woo, it’s fine! Don’t hurt her!” ‘Woo’ glanced back at his comrade in confusion and disbelief. San backtracked and quickly explained, “[y/n] was the one to get me out of there.” The other male blinked, looking back and forth between you and San quickly.

“[y/n]?” He tentatively asked, voice going into a low whisper as if your name was a forbidden word. To pirates, it probably was considering your bad reputation amongst them. “As in [y/n] [l/n]?”

San nodded and you hated the way your eyes immediately locked onto his smile as he happily exclaimed that you were his childhood friend. You also hated how warm and gooey you felt seeing ‘Woo’ slowly brightening up as San explained what happened. This wasn’t a feeling you were used to feeling anymore. It’s been a full decade since you’ve felt those familiar butterflies and you loathe that you’re feeling this for the person who abandoned you and a complete stranger. The warmth turns to bitter cold as you begin to contemplate whether it would be fine to try and stay with the Ateez crew. You don’t know how you will act with these emotions running through you and you detest not knowing things.

You snap out of your thoughts when the ravenette’s higher-pitched voice starts to speak to you. You look at him to see sparkling, grateful eyes as he happily tells you his name. “My name is Jung Wooyoung! Thank you so much for saving this doofus!” You blink as the feeling returns, washing away your negative thoughts. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

Taglist: @marievllr-abg

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mandalorianchronicles · 1 year

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Din and Grogu’s Story Arc

So one of the things that a lot of people seem to be struggling with this season is the direction of the storytelling. Where is the plot? Why is Din being made a side character in his own show? Why is Bo-Katan getting such a prominent role, when she’s barely been in the series thus far? When is the bad guy going to come into play?

One of the things that the Mandalorian has always done is blend its storytelling techniques - balancing the episodes that have a specific crisis, solution, execution, and conclusion within that one 30-50 min block with episodes that are more focused on advancing the ongoing narrative. Allow me to offer a brief recap of the story as it pertains to Din and Grogu:

Season 1: 1-3 - Din is hired to deliver Grogu to the Empire and saves him instead 4-6 - Din makes a living doing what he does, but now as a single parent 7-8 - Din protects his child from Moff Gideon who is trying to steal him Season 2: 1-3 - Din is looking for Mandalorians who can point him to a Jedi so Grogu can be with his own kind 4 - Din goes on a side quest that reveals why the Empire wanted Grogu 5 - Din meets an ex-Jedi who won’t train his son, but who shows him how to reach other Jedi 6-8 - Grogu is taken by the Empire; Din works with Mandos + friends to get him back; Din accidentally acquires an important heirloom; Grogu leaves with Luke The Book of Boba Fett Grogu decides to leave Luke and return to Din Season 3: 1-3 - Din redeems himself so he and Grogu can be accepted back into the Covert - they bring a now homeless Bo-Katan with them 4 - Din begins training Grogu as a Mandalorian; he and Bo work to save another Mandalorian’s child 5 - Din (with Grogu) and Bo lead a mission that gives the Covert a new home on Nevarro where their children can be free to “play in the sun” 6 - Din, Bo, and Grogo begin a quest to find other Mandalorians so they can reclaim their home planet and have a permanent place to call home; Din returns the Darksaber to the person he believes will best lead their people

There are two chapters left of season 3, but when we recap the story just focusing on Din and Grogu, is there any real confusion about what the focus of the plot is? It’s the same as it always was: Din is trying to do what is best for his little clan of two (perhaps soon to be three). First, he was just trying to protect Grogu from those who would harm him. Then, he was trying to what was best for the child by returning him to the people he thought were better suited to raise him. Then, in Book of Boba Fett (which is mostly about finding your tribe, a central theme to Mandalorian culture), Grogu returns to where he truly belongs - with Din.

Now that Grogu is with Din, Din’s focus changes. He is no longer content to just be a bounty hunter or a mercenary for hire. He is a father now, so he is looking to lay down roots. He wants what all parents want most - a better life for their children than the one they had. His many adventures along the way have broadened his understanding of his own culture. He wants to restore Mandalore, but he doesn’t want to do it with the motivation of leading the clans. He wants to do it so his son can have a stable and fulfilling life. He never wanted the Darksaber. He never wanted to be Mand’alor. He just wants to be a dad...but if I’m reading the room right, I believe he’s starting to consider the possibility of raising his son alongside someone who he trusts and might be beginning to love. And in typical Din “reluctant main character” Djarin fashion - the person he is beginning to care for is the once and future Mand’alor, Bo-Katan Kryze. And I believe she is beginning to care for him.

That’s the story they’re telling - it’s a story about a growing Mandalorian family. We’re still in the early days of “will they, won’t they” with Din and Bo-Katan, but the writers couldn’t be more obvious that they’re hinting it as a possibility. That may please you or disappoint you - but if you’re stuck on the idea of Din Djarin needing to be a powerful leader in order to be relevant to the show, you probably ought to be rooting for him and Bo-Katan to get together. If you want it to go back to being the adventures of Din and Grogu, Clan of Two...you won’t be rooting for the “Dinbo” ship to put to sea.

One last thought: if this isn’t the story that you envisioned them telling, I can empathize. After all, I did not enjoy the story they told in the Sequels, for all that it damaged the stories already written. But just because something did not go the way we wanted it to, does not necessarily mean that it is a bad story. We, as fans, must remember that we are not the storytellers. Sit back and listen to story being told. If, when you reach the end of it, you decide you didn’t like it - that’s your prerogative. But there are a great many fans who do enjoy the story that The Mandalorian is telling. And trust me, the plot isn’t lost. The story isn’t disjointed. It’s all right there.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #din djarin #bo-katan kryze #grogu #mand'alor #the darksaber #the book of boba fett #star wars

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cosmicpunked · 5 months

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Signfang anon, back!

Hope this isn’t weird but I love the little mini comic you made where Signless finally meets up with Mindfang in person after reading through her lost diary. I do love the idea of him forming a parasocial relationship with her through only reading her writings, lol.

I’ve been inspired enough to start considering an AU where Signless survives his execution, but instead of returning to the restless masses, turns to the sea instead and joins with Mindfang. Haven’t settled on why yet, but I’m leaning towards him knowing that returning to his family (if he ever found them again) would only endanger them further. The biggest snarl would be how Mindfang’s very dubious relationship with Dolorosa would transpire, if at all. Yet, if Mindfang really did start to secretly pine after the mutant she’s got stowed away on her ship, maybe she’d seek out his adoptive parent for more benign reasons.

I honestly really like that idea you suggested of them meeting once before, if only briefly after her ship starts skulking around a nearby shore. Maybe that’s why he turns to her after everyone believes him to be dead. After all, trying to carve out a new life on the ocean might not be too bad alongside the high blooded pirate captain who pretends she only pities you. Mindfang is not known much for altruism, after all.

hey! hope you're doing well anon, sorry tumblr did not notify me of having any asks :') Oh I remember that old drawing I made, wow it's like several years old haha

Also putting this under a read more because im about to get so self indulgent o_o

I would actually be so interested in seeing the AU take place!

An idea on how he could survive his execution:

Imagine if Rosa had been a daywalker from the start. Maybe she had initially died fleeing from the caverns with the Signless grub from a cave system full of hostile jadebloods and drones. But instead of fading away, she woke up under the blazing sun, her silken robes shielding the young Signless from harm.

With the world assuming her dead, she could raise him in peace, without being pursued as a 'runaway jade'.

However, to sustain herself, Rosa needed blood and often sought (with permission) from him, potentially leading the Signless to inherit her daywalker abilities, in death where he bleeds, in an irony it could have triggered something in him?

With the Dolorosa and Mindfang thing:

Regarding the Dolorosa and Mindfang situation, the timing of Signless reaching Mindfang would be crucial and depends on the outcome you want in the au.

It could take her ship several months or half a sweep to locate Dualscar's whereabouts, with him likely keeping a distance from Mindfang to avoid any association that might tarnish his title.

Afterall, if Mindfang was close to Darkleer, even potentially moirails (?) then the Signless' execution was one of the biggest betrayals in history, essentially the Empress' Executioner sparing the disciple of a false prophet would enrage the Grand Highblood and his church and every other Imperial on the planet.

So to avoid Dualscar's head being on the block, he could avoid meeting Mindfang for a while until things cool down, especially as Signless' mother is now on his ship as a slave.

In that time Signless could have established a close relationship with Mindfang and her pirate crew. Perhaps they even had a Rapunzel 'I've got a dream' moment where he realises that such brutes also have dreams, and some crew are ex-communicated clowns who didn't wear makeup and had they not come to a life of piracy they would have been slaughtered, or tealbloods fleeing from the corrupt justice system, or olives whose forests were burnt down carelessly or yellowbloods fleeing being turned into powering batteries e.g.

I know we see a common theme of Vriska and Aranea mind controlling their crews, but I really would imagine Mindfang as someone who doesn't rely on mind-control so often as it feels a bit like a 'easy win' and mindcontrolling her crew for centuries would be so impossible lol I really hope they were a rag and tag family who genuinely respected one another and voted her a Captain based on her expertise rather then conditioned because how would she go to sleep at night, surely they would mutiny while she slept and wasn't being influenced by her control?

Why he might go to Mindfang over his family ideas:

I think this could add an interesting conflict. Either Signless had a vision in the years before he would die where he would know where his family would be after death (even more reason why he doesn't want to face them) and wants to prevent Mindfang doing what she does.

Or he doesn't know but finds himself drawn to Mindfang like a lighthouse beacon (light player after all) perhaps the 'Sufferer's Rage' has changed him emotionally, and he doesn't want his family to see him become a replica of a man he once was, and perhaps he finds his new rage and short temper for the Imperials more better fitted in boarding a pirate ship.

Should he become a stowaway on her ship, perhaps she makes him go through some trials when he's brought to her quarters (e.g I'll make a man out of you >.> type trials where he has to climb the mast in stormy weather to prove he's one of them, or he ends up saving her life? Or maybe he's just a good cook who gains the crew and Captain's favour that way <.< as I doubt Mindfang can cook for shit)

Or Mindfang could give him a little fighting training montage where he can finally begin to use his scythe, kind of befitting it's the same weapon the grim reaper wields as he could take on a 'grim reaper' kind of moniker as his new pirate identity.

Maybe they both eventually become aware that his mother is on Mindfang's kismesis' ship, perhaps Signless talks about his family to her but Mindfang doesn't know who 'Rosa' is when she see's her on Dualscar's ship for the first time, she just thinks she's another slave but then she see's Signless' anger begin to reach boiling point again when he recognises his mother. (Dualscar vs an angered Sufferer, Mindfang Dolorosa ancestral showdown??????)

I suppose the outcome of such a showdown would end based on how well signless and mindfang end up getting along in the months or even sweeps before eventually running into Dualscar and his ship. Mindfang may know that if she doesn't do what her fate says, it could doom the entire timeline and their descendants will all be doomed - if Mindfang asked the oracle how her kismesistude would end, just like she asked who would kill her - then her fate could be locked and that she's meant to end the night angering Dualscar so that he'll die by the Grand Highblood as her fate describes.

They could both totally break the entire timeline with this, and at what cost? Could it summon an angry Demoness? Would it piss of Scratch if Mindfang puts Signless over her destiny? <.< This is the drama I live for.

At that point it could be when people are starting to begin to forget about the Executioner's betrayal and the Signless' teachings as they both fade into obscurity. So Signless will also be faced with a similar crossroads, whether he wants to doom the timeline to resurrect his own name and teachings. If Mindfang, Signless and his mother manage to get away, what would happen? Would he begin preaching? Would Mindfang even want to associate with him then? Or would he be too different to go back to that life? That too could doom the entire timeline.

How he could find her?:

Chances are with the connection Mindfang has to Darkleer (His Executioner) perhaps he goes to seek Darkleer out first to try and find where the Disciple was (having his last memory be her running away traumatised) but is met with the realisation that perhaps he should hang back and not reveal the fact he's alive or retraumatise her more with the 'ghost' of him.

However he has nowhere to go, so while he's hovering around he instead finds Mindfang coming out of Darkleer's exiled house and tails her back to her ship? Just some ideas? I'm frothing at the mouth I haven't talked about signfang for so long with someone jwiasjd

Hopefully this gives you some ideas!! Feel free to ignore them all if they don't go with the vibe you're wanting.

#signfang #signless #mindfang #dolorosa #darkleer #homestuck

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archoniluthradanar · 7 months

Text

The test of a vampire : A Beauty and the Beast re-telling Part Four

The test of a vampire : A Beauty and the Beast re-telling

Marcus dei Volturi x female OC

Caterina makes a deal with the Volturi master Marcus as to her duties while she hopes the length of her servitude will be short.

Because it would be difficult for a human to harm a vampire, I switched this to have Marcus help Caterina with her wounds, unlike the film where Belle helps the Beast with his.

Chapter Four

The Escape

oooooooooooooooooooo

Caterina quickly walked the streets of Volterra after leaving the castle she was being forced to work in. Escape had seemed impossible, so she'd accepted her fate, hoping Marcus would appreciate her hard work and let her go home soon. But an opportunity appeared and she took it. It was illogical since he could find her, and possibly do something terrible to her or her father. But one doesn't think logic in such situations.

Once she reached the main street, Caterina searched for her father. Hopefully, he would be at the market selling his produce, but after looking at every stall for almost half an hour, she knew he was not here. Either he had come earlier and left, or never came. It may have been a harvesting day, she couldn't remember. Now her only option was to find someone who would let her use their phone.

She stopped at a nearby store, and asked the cashier if she could make a call with their phone. The cashier was friendly enough, but explained it was store policy not to allow anyone to use the phone. She tried to ask at other shops, but after having been burned by that request by others, policy was no one was allowed to use the phone. Perhaps if she went to the police, they might help her. What would she even tell them? And what if Marcus, being a wealthy man, had influence in town. Who was she to override that. She was just a farmer's daughter and no one of importance.

Tired, Caterina sat on the edge of a fountain and sighed. Why had she left? This was so stupid. She would be found and sent back, and perhaps end up under the control of a man now very unhappy with her. Tears flowed, her thoughts on her father. Papa, I made such a mistake.

The sun was beginning to set, dusk arriving without her noticing. Many of the vendors's stall had closed, the sellers having gone home. Stupid girl, she berated herself. It would be dark soon. Walking home would be out of the question now. She should admit defeat, and go back to the castle. Maybe if she asked nicely enough, she might implore Marcus to forgive her and let her come back. She wondered what kind of punishment she would receive. His temper had scared her into fleeing after all, so it was just as much his fault as hers.

Before Caterina had executed her escape, Marcus had realized he had not seen her all day. He had to sit in on several trials earlier, so he'd assumed she had cleaned his rooms first, and when he had returned there, he saw she had. He left for his office, where Marcus was expecting to find her, but she had already cleaned there as well. He checked the kitchen, where the chef told the Volturi leader he had seen her there for lunch with all the other staff.

Deciding to return to his rooms, Marcus passed through a side corridor and noticed the door to Didyme's room open. He entered the room to find Caterina inspecting his beloved wife's marble bust and the single pink rose from her garden. When he had lost his temper at the unwanted intrusion, Caterina did what he had hoped she would never do, look at him with abject horror and fear. When she ran from the room, he instantly regretted his harsh words.

It had been far too long since Didyme's death. His curse meant nothing to him from the first day he had met his future mate. An eternity with her was not hell. It was a heaven he never dreamed of. Now she was gone. And Caterina was missing as well.

When it was discovered she had not returned to her room, he decided she must have taken his outburst to heart, and was hiding somewhere in the castle. He had to find her. It was far too dangerous here for one lone mortal.

When Marcus left the kitchen, he went in search of Felix. The guard had oddly become the human female's friend. He might have seen her and knew where she'd gone off to. Marcus was slightly jealous at the ease with which Felix had cultivated a friendship with the girl. How did he do that?

Finding the guard, Marcus asked if he knew of the whereabouts of Caterina.

"No, Master Marcus, I haven't seen her since early this morning. Perhaps Demetri knows."

Marcus checked with the coven's tracker, who also had not seen Caterina.

"Master Marcus, should I see if she is here? She might have gone outside." Checking for the tenor of the human, Demetri detected a lead out the back doors into the drive. Then she had gone outside. He and Marcus sped to the back of the castle, exiting through the rear doors, but she was nowhere in the garden or in the gazebo.

"She's left the castle grounds," Demetri said grimly. He and Marcus left through the back gates, going into the village. Demetri easily followed the trail the human had left.

Marcus wondered what made her take the extreme solution to run off. He realized the way he had exploded at her must have frightened her. She did not belong in Didyme's room, but he never should have shouted at her. It was getting dark out now, and he worried for her safety.

By now, Caterina had begun the walk back to the castle, feeling utterly dejected. As she headed down an alley of closed shops, she noticed a small group of young men standing at the end of the alleyway. Caterina turned around to go back the way she came, but hearing footsteps behind her, she knew they were now following her.

She went from a fast walk to running, when she felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling hard enough to tear her shirt. Then someone blocked her way.

"Where are you going, pretty thing?" He reached up to play with her ponytail, then tugged on her earrings. "Are these worth anything, sweetheart?"

"Have you a purse?" another man asked. "Maybe you have some money you could share with us."

Caterina spun around, trying to find a gap she could run through. She started to scream, but a hand covered her mouth.

With a sudden jerk, Caterina was tossed to the ground, her face scraping against the cobblestones.

Above her, Marcus and Demetri had pulled her attackers away from her. Bodies were tossed against the walls of the alley. Blood splashed onto the stone street as sharp teeth pierced soft flesh, tearing into the throats of every one of the molesters. In minutes, all five men were dead.

Marcus flashed to Caterina, who had fainted. He bent down and gently gathered her in his arms. "Demetri, clean up this mess."

The tracker nodded. "I'll return as soon as I'm finished. I'm glad we found her, Master Marcus. I hope she's all right."

Marcus sped back to the castle, returning the girl to her bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he went into her bathroom and wet a wash cloth with warm soapy water. He pulled the desk chair to the side of the bed, and carefully moved locks of her hair off her face. She has so pretty, even when unconscious. He had been furious when he saw what the young men were doing to her, and the possibility of what they might have done, made him want to rip them apart.

He gently washed the grit from her skin, noticing the scrape marks. Peering down at her face, he wondered what she would say to him when she came to.

While he continued dotting the wash cloth over the abrasions, Caterina's eyes opened. She looked up into Marcus' face, seeing an expression of worry. "Am I still alive?"

Marcus smiled and nodded his head. "Luckily, we found you in time, and as for your attackers, they...ran off."

"We?" she asked, wincing when he touched a sore spot on her face.

"Demetri helped me look for you as soon as we noticed you were gone. I will let you rest for now, Caterina, then we will talk about you running away. Perhaps you'd like to shower and change clothing. Those mongrels tore your shirt, but I will replace it." He bit back his fury once more, but smiled down at her. "And before you protest, it will be my pleasure."

Caterina winced again, but this time it was not pain that had caused it. She was ready for her punishment, however. "Yes, sir." When she saw him rise from the bed, and start to leave, she said to him, "Thank you, Marcus."

He graced her with another smile. "You're very welcome." Then he left her alone.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

After Caterina had showered and dressed, she sat at the desk, waiting for Felix to take her to Marcus' rooms. What was he going to do to her? What would he say? What would she say about her ridiculous hope to go home.

It wasn't long before Caterina heard the expected knock. She ran to the door, yanking it open to find her tall friend standing there. "Oh, Felix, what have I done? Is Marcus very annoyed with me?"

Felix looked down at Caterina, feeling actual sympathy for her, but only he knew running away was a hopeless effort for the human, now that Demetri had her in his mind. She would not ever be able to escape him and his tracking abilities in future. But Felix hoped she never tried. Master Marcus may forgive her once, but would he again?

Caterina grabbed Felix's hand. "I'm scared. Do you think if I apologised and promised never to leave without permission, he might let me try again. I will work very hard to please him."

Felix admired the human's courage, but couldn't help teasing her. "How will you try to please Master Marcus, Caterina?" He raised an eyebrow at her, his meaning clear.

Her eyes went wide and she slapped his chest. "Don't you start!"

Felix pulled back and laughed aloud. "Master Marcus is not that kind of man, Caterina. You can trust him. Now we'd better go." He raised a pointed finger at her. "Remember, be contrite."

Caterina held her hands together, walking beside Felix until they reached Marcus' rooms. He let her in and waited outside the closed doors.

Once inside the ante-room, Caterina saw Marcus sitting at his desk. She stood, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence.

"So, you're still here. I expected Felix to report your room being empty," he said, not looking up from his ledger.

"I'm not going anywhere again, Marcus."

"Come over here by me." Marcus set down his pen, waiting for Caterina to stand beside him.

Slowly walking across the floor until she was inches from her employer's side. She took Felix's advice, and stared at her feet, saying nothing.

Marcus looked up at her. "Why did you leave?"

Unable to come up with a good excuse, Caterina told Marcus the truth. "You frightened me when you lost your temper. I'm sorry for intruding in that room. It won't happen again."

"It had better not." he repied a bit harsher than he'd intended. You should not have run away."

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't frightened me!" she said, biting back her annoyance.

"You should have not been wandering around going into rooms you had no place!" Marcus said, raising his voice higher.

"You need to learn not to frighten women!" Caterina retorted. Then she felt bad and lowered her voice. "One other thing. Thank you for saving my life."

Marcus turned to gaze at the human. "You're...welcome." He rose from his chair and taking Caterina's hand, led her to the sofa. When both were seated, he asked her, "If I let you continue your work as you have been doing, will you swear not to run away again?"

She looked up into his warm chocolate-brown eyes, raised her hand, and smiled. "I swear. I will not run away again. I'll do my work as ordered." The smile disappeared. "Until such time you choose to relieve me of my duties...and let me go home."

Marcus drew back. Always, she was thinking about leaving. They had not spent much time together, but he wanted to remedy that. "When you've finished your work tomorrow, I would like to take you back to the room where... I want to explain why I was initially upset at you for being there."

"All right," Caterina replied. 'You don't have to though..."

"I want to explain to you. Just have Felix bring you here when you're finished with your work tomorrow. Now you'd better get some supper while the Chef is still here. Then go to your room, get some sleep."

"Thank you, Marcus." Caterina got up and walked to the door, but then she stopped and turned back to her employer. "Have a good evening."

When she exited the room, Felix gave her a look of mock surprise. "You're still alive! And I assume he did not beat you."

She smacked her tall friend again. "Will you stop? Now take me to the kitchen at once. That's an order."

He gently took her chin in his hand and bent low, whispering in her ear. "An order, is it?

She patted her ear, trying to get rid of the slight tickle that sent goosebumps down her arm. "Please take me to the kitchen, Felix? I'm hungry."

How he wished he could throw her over his shoulder and speed down the corridors. But no, it was up to Master Marcus to reveal their existence, when the time was right. "Well then, let's go." And he led her to the kitchen, all the while asking her about her attempt to flee and what had ensued.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The next morning, Caterina began her chores, wanting to get done as soon as possible so she could meet with Marcus and see what made that near-empty room so special.

Felix was waiting at the door of Marcus' office. "How did you know I was done?" Caterina asked him.

"Telepathy," Felix said in reply. When he saw Caterina roll her eyes at him. "All right, I heard the vacumn shut off. I know that's the last thing you do when you clean."

"Hmm, smart. Will you help me return my supplies to the supply room? Then let me freshen up before taking me to Marcus' rooms?"

"I'm beginning to feel like your servant," Felix scoffed.

"Ha ha. Please then?" she begged.

"Oh, all right, let's go," he said, picking up her heavier items. When they had done that, he took her to Marcus' doors and again stood guard while waiting. This time, however, Marcus told Felix to go, since he would be showing Caterina around. Felix nodded and left, but not before giving Caterina a wink of reassurance.

Marcus held out his hand to her. Caterina looked at it, debated in her mind, then placed her hand in his. She felt how cold it was, so cold, but she let Marcus lead her down that corridor. They stopped in front of the same doors she'd found open that night.

She turned to Marcus before they entered the room. "In my defense, the doors were not locked or I would not have been able to go in." A stupid excuse, she knew. "I realize I should not have been checking doors to see if they were locked anyway."

"It's in the past. I am bringing you in myself this time." Marcus turned to look at Caterina. How unlike Didyme she was, yet this human might be the key to his current affliction.

A/N : Just an FYI, Felix is taking the place of all the transformed characters like Mrs Potts, Lumière, Cogsworth, etc... He is her friend and confidente, and not her future lover. They just get along really well.

#the volturi #volturi fanfiction #marcus volturi #Beauty and the Beast

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sam-glade · 7 months

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Find the Words Tag

Tagged by @i-can-even-burn-salad here and @k-v-briarwood here - thank you💜

Passing it gently to: @captain-kraken @daisywords @squarebracket-trick @on-noon with words: tree, decide, bold, chair.

From @i-can-even-burn-salad: grudge, gift, gesture and glass

GRUDGE (Gullin's POV)

The silence was comfortable. Of course Lissan’s mood wouldn’t be spoiled by a difference of opinion between friends, and of course he wouldn’t hold a grudge. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to get so defensive around him. Of all the people Gullin knew, he trusted Ianim most to choose the best-faith interpretation of anyone’s words, and it would appear that Lissan was of the same ilk.

GIFT (Also Gullin's POV)

"Nikols," Gullin began. "I've seen the casualty lists, I know some people are listed as 'dead, cause unknown', but if it was in front of witnesses…" He broke off. He could imagine the witnesses not being forthcoming with the details, however they should also be dead. "How did they survive the blast?" "Oh, he called it execution." With their own Swords. Of course. When a person not Gifted by Fate died, their light escaped them and they turned to ash on the spot. Crystals, incapable of harming others with their powers, caused a blast that always spared those around them. Swords - powerful Swords, such as senior officers would be - could use the blast to take their enemy with them, and Gullin couldn't imagine them wanting to spare the Usurper. However, if a Sword was 'executed' with their own Weapon, there would be no lethal blast.

GESTURE (Erya's POV)

Erya squeezed Ma's hands — they were cold — and looked at her pale face wrinkled like a crumpled paper that someone had tried to smooth out. Perhaps she was trying, too hard. She swallowed a lump. “Let me make something hot to drink; it’s brisk out there,” Erya said with forced verve, and tore her eyes off of Ma’s silhouette against the window. The woman made a small gesture — could have been a twitch, but Erya chose to interpret it as a nod.

GLASS (Also Erya)

The heavy curtains were drawn already; the room was cool and quiet. The box of chess pieces sat on a small table by the wall, with the game board masterfully inlaid in the table’s surface. A crystal lamp with a stained glass shade illuminated it in patches of muted colours. The silver samovar in the corner hissed quietly as it heated up, and two cut-crystal glasses waited on a silver tray beside it. The familiar setting did little to soothe Erya’s temper.

~*~

From @k-v-briarwood: bright, bloom, tie, and anchor

BRIGHT (Erya's POV)

General Ogden of the Engineering Corps expressed some interest in quantifying the effects the Dark One had had on Lissander, and left it at that. General Ellian of the Healers was concerned for the brat’s wellbeing, as was his prerogative. The others looked awkwardly away, until the Feldmarshal decreed that they should bring their suggestions to the next meeting. The mention of the brat soured Erya’s mood, not helped by the bright sun beating relentlessly on the paved courtyard outside the Central Command. She exchanged her spectacles for dark-tinted ones and pulled the sleeves over her hands — her knuckles were sunburnt already. Bracing herself, she stepped out into the light.

BLOOM (Ianim's POV)

He looked over Gullin with fondness, before tying back the heavy curtains that flanked the glass-panelled door leading outside. Soft breeze whispered through the white lacy ones that diffused the light. The garden outside the window was tended to by the enlisted Swords of the IntSec. The officers’ quarters were arranged in a square block around a lush area with vines and pruned bushes, and paths lined with bright blooming flowers. A lovely, relaxing spot, hidden from the bustle of the city.

TIE (Also Ianim's POV)

Now he sped up towards a patch of sparse woods, leaving Ianim behind, too focused on the raspberry bushes he’d seen. Ianim directed Cloud after him, then a little further around the trees, until they found a gnarly pine tree with low, twisted branches. Lissan barely had the patience to tie Marigold’s reins to the tree and loosen her girdle. He tossed his jacket over the saddle and strode towards the bushes. “Would you like some?” he called over his shoulder, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

ANCHOR (This one is from Gifts of Fate, I remember using this word exactly once. Also Ianim's POV)

Nikols was a tall man, a head and a half taller than Ianim. He used to be a sailor before he enlisted and he still looked a bit like it, with perpetual stubble, a short ponytail curling at the nape of his neck, and faded tattoos of anchors and mermaids on the bronze skin of his forearms. He was also out of uniform, with a coat tossed onto the chair next to him, and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. While for the senior officers civilian attire offered anonymity, for Ianim it did the opposite.

#the prince's shadow #tag game #writeblr #writeblr tag game #find the word

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tsa-smth · 5 months

Text

Slow shifting

About how Bai Long Ma scared a child with his looks

Drabble, Gen, all ages, the author is on the middle of the book

PS - my first actually written fanfic ever, it's quite simple and made for kicks. Let me know about grammar mistakes in DMs, especially on the English version since that's not my native language. Have a good time Русская версия

Several days ago Tang monk have acquired one more disciple, and the merciful bodhisattva named him Bai Long Ma. Three pilgrims were heading to the West. The route was peaceful so far, nobody threatened Tripitaka. The sun was going down and was blinding their eyes through branches. The pathway was getting thicker and they saw smoke before - good signs there were people ahead. And then there was heavy rain. By agreeing on them not getting to a village fast enough, they found shelter in a cave they noticed - surprisingly, it didn’t have any hosts. Sanzang invited disciples for sutra reading that turned to a debate between the monk and the monkey, and the transformed into human Bai Long Ma stole the scriptures so he could read them himself. On the second watch, the monk switched the place with the white dragon-horse - looking like a steed again - and went to sleep without preparation. The monkey didn’t saw any fiends and, how wild he wasn’t, entrusted a watch to the hooved one. Seems like the simian had a soft spot for equines and it was easy for him to claim the new member as trustworthy in such an appearance - despite their secretiveness and silence - and even forgot they both got into a brawl because of what happened with the previous horse. The newbie wanted to goof around - just a little bit. The thing is, he didn’t have a proper time to be in his true form from the start of the journey. Due to Guanyin’s spell, transformations took way more time than it’s supposed to. He transformed into a human to attend Tang monk’s lessons and that was all. First of all, his gotten as a punishment for arson and destruction of the pearl scars hadn’t healed yet. He hadn’t the same terrifying fame that the Monkey King had, and if an evil soul would recognise him as one of the disciples in his two-legged image, lóng could lose a fight easily and the monk would be left without a horse for an escape. The same way, Bai Long Ma couldn’t transform into lóng to not destroy everything around the mortal. Second of all, it can be too hard to convince humans that creatures don’t mean any harm, especially if one of them is particularly scrappy and arrogant. If villagers recognized a shapeshifter in the horse, it didn’t seemed like noble monk’s words would helped them. And all of that means, if he wants to act like a horse, he should think like a horse and be a horse, and he doesn’t shapeshift into a young man or a lóng if a situation calls for it. Bai Long Ma thought for a while, examining moon shine on the white fur, the scars and horn cuts were acting up under the weather. Recalling the time the goddess had to dissuade his father from the execution, he thought he was a better horse than a prince. Though, under the closed by heavy clouds sky and and without uninvited audience, he couldn’t sulking about past for long. Ao Lie waited until the monk would fully succumb to sleep and took action. Silently, he started a transformation. Fur is getting covered by scales, vibrissae thickens into catfish whiskers, and the mane becomes a spine. But haven’t hooves transformed into claws how he heard something two-legged moving to their direction. Lóng becomes a horse back again. He could distinguish a child, probably lost while playing, running through the pathway through tree trunks. — Oh no, that’s the cave! — frustratingly said the girl. Seeing the light she thought she already reached her village. The little human went further until it clicked in her head that there are someone sleeping here. — I wonder for how long I was in the forest... — Tiny... The white dragon-horse hadn’t enough time to go back into its role. The child heard the voice from the steed, and when she raised his eyes to it’s muzzle, she was horrified:

That's not the looks of horse - Cut cheeks with rows of teeth like saws Snake-akin eyes are split by sword The girl burst into tears and ran away. — Who dared to disturb the Great Sage Equal To Heaven during sleep!?, — shouted Sun Wukong threateningly. Sanzang haven’t woke up by a miracle. Glancing at the disappointed and irregular horse’s muzzle, he sighed and asked: — Did this child tried to steal something? The horse wrinkled his already distorted maw and shook his head. Receiving it as an answer, the Handsome Monkey King sat at cave’s entrance and called the wet brother to come inside as a horse supposed to. “Yeah”, thought Bai Long Ma, “raindrop walking won’t be soon”.

Notes:

It was made for Ao Lie as one of those photoshops of dog mouth horses, but at some moment it stopped to be a shitpost

#tsats writes #journey to the west #jttw fanfic #bai longma #bai long ma #hello jttw fandom I'll just leave it here

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artblock-tm · 6 months

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what if you talk a bit more about that gay little jester you put in a mirror that would be funny i think

i forgot his name lol hehdgdhshdgdg

Oh yeah I’ll talk more about him. I’ll GLADLY talk more about Drisco. He likes the attention, too!

Origin and Design

Drisco and his rival/counterpart/toxic yaoi partner Castarian both originated in a dream I had. While Castarian was named, Drisco wasn’t, so I had to come up with something myself. It rhymes with “disco” but my intention was to derive something from “discord”.

So he’s one of the newest, and one of my more favored designs, since I’ve gotten better at designing OCs. I only have his top half planned out, since that’s mostly what appears, and the attempt at his bottom half isn’t set in stone…. But here he is!

Maybe I’ll give him stupid little pointed shoes with bells on the end.

Story

In life, he was the jester for some nobleman- he preferred that over working for a king, because he got juuuust the right amount of attention.

While I don’t have a lot of story planned out for this world , I do have a concept for their religion/magic system. It’s heavily based on flowers and their magical or divine properties. A lot of flower-based products are sold at markets because of their importance. They can be used for protective charms, healing salves, scents, etc. Alchemy is a major factor in their scientific and magical developments.

Drisco, however, dedicated his life to studying magic dealing with blood. This magic was darker and considered taboo, but he recognized it as the other side of the coin of the holy flowers. They’re both natural substances and, if applied correctly, have magic properties, and therefore have worth to any god(s) they believed in.

So Drisco learned how to control blood. He learned summoning rituals, ways to puppeteer people, ways to cast illusions, etc. He learned what was thought unethical to figure out- what the worth of a human soul is.

He studied this in the shadows of his jester life. Every so often he’d make trips into the forest to gather materials and stop at towns to put on a show. He met Castarian that way- in a fae-riddled forest. I might talk about the circumstances of their meeting and their complicated relationship sometime else; there’s a lot to it.

Anyway. Drisco eventually got caught studying this sinful magic. And so, he was executed, and just to make extra sure he couldn’t cause more harm, his spirit was cursed into a mirror. (Castarian died as a result of his death, too. Again, it’s complicated.)

The mirror was transported to an abandoned fort and covered with a cloth. Drisco, sentient as a spirit, couldn’t see out of the mirror with it covered. He spent centuries in darkness… and as someone who’s so fond of attention, that… that wore him down a little.

But he did discover he could control the interior of the mirror. It could become any scene he liked! He could simulate any place he wanted- outdoors, indoors, doesn’t matter! But the frame of the mirror always stays the same amount of space behind him, no matter how far it looks like he’s gone. And nothing is real in the worlds he create- he can’t feel the sun on his skin or breathe in fresh air anymore.

One day, the mirror was uncovered. And he was overjoyed. Immediately he started talking to the person who uncovered the mirror- only to quickly discover they couldn’t see him. And again, his hopes fell.

But even as they left, the mirror stayed uncovered. He could finally glimpse the room he was left in! It was… dusty and old and in the process of being cleaned up as a tourist space, but it was better than a black nothingness!

He also learned that Castarian, as a ghost, hangs out in the same fort. Somehow, as a spirit, he’d followed Drisco here and hadn’t left his side. At first, Drisco was touched…until he learned that it was because Castarian blamed him for his death and had waited all this time to yell at him. Whatever friendship they had dissolved as they argued.

Drisco is furious at Castarian (again, for complicated reasons), and wants his revenge. It’s a little hard to avenge oneself when one is trapped in a mirror, though…

As more and more people trickle through the not-so abandoned fort, Drisco realizes that some people can see him. He talks to those people, and starts to manipulate them. He gets them in their own for a while and puts on an entertaining show- perhaps with lights set up in the background of the mirror and a giant wheel of fortune, all modern game show things with a medieval twist!

But he always rigs the games and cheats to win. Every single one of his participants dies after losing enough games and being forced to do a favor for him. Slowly he gains more power with every death, having his players draw their own spell circles on the ground that will spell their demise and give the value of their soul, blood, and flesh to Drisco.

And he loves it. It only he could get back at Castarian….

Other Notes

If I could fully figure out the mechanics of Drisco’s game show, I think he’d be VERY fun to roleplay, especially if everything was left up to chance.

Despite his sadistic demeanor, Drisco had actually been very lonely. His shows are not only spectacular because he’s fruity, he’s also trying to capture your attention and make you stay. He only kills people he gets bored with- or if they had some really, really bad luck in his games.

And speaking of him being fruity, this man is gay. That’s right, he’s one of them homosexuals. He has a crush on Castarian (but it’s more of an obsession), but if you get on his good side and stick around a lot… he might get attached to you. I think he could definitely settle for more than one partner.

Unfortunately, he’s well aware that he’s good-looking and that people want to kiss him. And he WILL use this to manipulate people. But interact at your own risk.

Also when he gets mad, I think he should be allowed to look increasingly demonic, as a treat.

I made a drawing of him recently that’s my current Discord pfp!

TW: Some blood

That’s all!

…for now. Knowing him, this won’t be the last time I talk about him.

#artbabble-tm #oc: Drisco #oc: Castarian #goblinbugthing #ask #ocs #doodle doodles #doodle gallery #I love him. I hate him also but mostly I love him.

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rphelperblog · 1 year

Text

daenerys targaryen quote rp meme

inspired by @westerosiqueens

I will answer injustice with justice

Angry snakes lash out. Makes chopping off their heads that much easier

Our fathers were evil men. They left the world worse than they found it. We are not going to do that. We are going to leave it better than we found it

Is it so far from madness to wisdom?

Perhaps I cannot make my people good. But I should at least try to make them a little less bad.

Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?

Any other man and I would have you executed— but you. I do not want you in my city, dead or alive.

If I give everyone what they deserve, I’ll have no one left to rule.

I have fewer enemies than I did yesterday.

I am no ordinary woman. My dreams come true.

Is it so far from madness to wisdom?

If I look back, I am lost

It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone.

My reign has just begun

I value your advice, but if you ever question me in front of strangers again, you’ll be advising someone else. Is that understood?

I am not your little princess

It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone

Fire can not kill a dragon

What kind of queen am I if I am not willing to risk my life to fight them?

I am not going to stop the wheel. I am going to break the wheel

The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands

I am no ordinary woman. My dreams come true

And I swear this. If you ever betray me, I’ll burn you alive

Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap if I took you for a man

He sold my mother's crown, and men called him a beggar. I shall keep this one, so men will call me a queen

My reign has just begun

Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?

They can live in my new world or they can die in their old one

Yes, all men must die. But we are not men

I will not let those I have freed slide back to chains.

I will do what queens do. I will rule

You are small men. None of you are fit to lead them. But I am, so I will

I will take what is mine with fire and blood

Let the priests argue over good and evil. Slavery is real. I can end it. I will end it. And I will end those behind it.

We both want to help people. We can only help them from a position of strength. Sometimes strength is terrible

I will not lie with you. And I will bear no children, for you, or anyone else

A man who fights for gold can’t afford to lose to a girl

I am the dragon’s daughter, and I swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming.

The blood of the dragon does not weep

A queen must listen to all. The highborn and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal. One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.

Mother of dragons. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? I am the blood of the dragon. If they are monsters, so am I.

Don’t ever presume to touch me again or speak my name

The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands.

When the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east, then you shall return to me, my sun and stars

When my dragons are grown, we will take back what was stolen from me and destroy those who have wronged me. We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground. Turn us away and we will burn you first.

Dracarys.

I am the dragon’s daughter, and I swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming.

One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.

I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way he said they smiled for my father.

#open to all #open to anyone #open rp #ask meme #rp meme #open meme #open to anybody #roleplay meme #ask prompt #memes #daenerys edit #queen daenerys #got rp #got starter #game of thrones #game of thrones rp #open roleplay #open starter #open role play

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medicdoodles · 2 years

Text

So I bite off more than I could chew on this one but it's still rushed. Don't expect to pick this up as I based the premise on Digital Devil Saga.

Warrings: Self harm, mentions of vomiting, and cannibalism😔.

DDS.AU with G1 verse

(Day 1)|| (Day 2)|| (Day 3: Sacrifice) || (Day 4)

After one hard battle Optimus begins to wonder if they could ever find peace before execution. Primus sets a curse free and promises the last person standing shall recreate the new world.

Another battle rages on. The smell of sulfur, over heated metal, and gas exhaust pollutants the air. Broken glass and left over parts shattered the ground. The sky is black as the sun has been covered in ash from the flames of war. Every bot is giving this fight their all in hope of pushing the other side out.

Optimus Prime stand in the front line. Standing tall, rushing foward and knocking down Decepticons as he aims for Megatron. He is the beacon of hope for the Autobots. Unfathomable and indestructible, he leads the troops to forge their own, better tomorrow.

But Prime himself has doubts that would happen. That there will be no winner, all will be lost and that they as a species will drive each other to extinction. He wonders how long can he promise a better future to his comrades.

I am Primus

A voice rings into everyone's head.

And I can no longer stand by watching this blood shed as all of you kill each other with no honor.

For this I shall cast a curse upon all of you my children. An unquenchable hunger will fall on to you that will only ease as you devour each other one by one. But do not despair as the last to survive will be granted audience with me and they will shape the new world.

The voice dissipates and a blinding light rises from the ground. It hits every bot all at once and the planet stays quiet.

".... Optimus!"

The Prime jolts upright from the berth. He looks around and finds that he is in the Iacon Medical Center. Actually looks like all Autobots are here, but all of them have no visible wounds.

"Sorry for waking you." Ratchet says as he moves towards the sink to sterilize his hands. "This part needs to be present but once it's over I'll need you to try to go to bed." He then walks over, placing a hand on Optimus's thigh while putting a finger in front of his vision. "Just follow my finger."

"Is everything alright? I'm not quite sure how we returned to base."

"No one does. I just woke up with a lab full of unconscious mechs." Ratchet nods and moves to check his vision with a flashlight. "How are feeling, any pain or hunger?"

"Hungry, excuse my asking but it is out of your standard asking."

He hears a sigh as Ratchet goes to grab a cube of Energon and give to to Optimus. "It's strange but everyone has been waking up with an itchy T-cog and a strong sense of hunger." After handing it off to his patients, he crosses his arms as he walks away from the medical bed. "I haven't been able to find the cause or even treat it. I even give them more than they should have and it just doesn't go away."

"I'm sorry Ratchet, it's so painful. I'm so hungry." A voice towards the back of room rises in volume.

"Punchbug calm down!" Ironhide's can be heard as the sound of the other bot transforms. Horror runs through his body as he doesn't see a vehicle but a monster. All of thier eyes are missing and a large mouth forms where his mid section is. Both teeth and tongue are large and sharp.

Punchbug then tries to lunge forward towards someone sitting in the berth in front of them. Ironhide grabs their head from behind, takes out their blade and cuts through them. Before anyone else could react Ironhide also transforms and with his new form devours Punchbug.

"Ratchet," Ironhide says, "I think I found the cure."

The bell of death rings through the base.

------

After the incident happened they discovered that the only cure for the disease was to kill one another and devour their opponents.

Ratchet had to come up with an alternate, but nothing works. Everything is getting worse and soon in fighting will happen.

Tonight he made the hardiest choice, he opened the door to the morgue and let them eat the corpses.

So here both he and Optimus lay together in bed. Prime holds the medic in his arms and let's him rest his head on his chest. He tries to comfort him, rubbing Ratchet's back and trying from keeping from escaping.

"First we went from cannibalizing our own to being cannibals." Ratchet says no longer hiding his tears. They had spent an hour earlier stuck in the ICU ward. Ratchet trying and failing to purge himself of the one arm he ate. "How much father must we fall? When will it all end?"

Optimus says nothing, he can't formulate words at the moment, not that Ratchet would want to hear them. He tries to talking with Primus, every day since the curse was placed upon them he's tried for answers. The Matrix of Leadership sits dead in his spark and not a word pass through.

He thinks back on the last words, "that the last one standing shall be granted audience with him and make a new world". Could it truly be that all must fall for one to rise.

Should he even ask whom among them will get the honor.

----

This is their last stand.

After years of fighting off the opposition army and taking control over the Well of All Sparks. Optimus and the Autobots now have to work to decide whether of not they fight to see who descend and who will parish.

Everyone is silent, it is too much ask them to roll over and sacrifice themselves. It is equally as hard to make them fight each other after not one week pass, they've all protected each other.

In the end it was Ratchet who brakes the tension. He walks towards Optimus and everyone steps aside to let him meet him. "Optimus. I've made up." He grabs one of Optimus' hand, "I can't fight you, any of you." A tear falls off his face, "And I rather it be you who remakes the world."

He stands on his peds, reaching to kiss Prime's face plate. Transforming his other hand to stab his exposed spark. "Please.", his last words are, "Make the next world kind."

#transformers g1 #ratchet #g1 ratchet #optimus prime #g1 optimus prime #optimus x ratchet #optiratch #optiratch 2021 #fanfic #maccadam #please just watch a ddsplay through if you confused on the premise

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nukagalreacts · 2 years

Text

Non-companions react to Sole’s dragon saving them part 3!

Thanks for reading y’all

Sturges: He still adores the dragons with all his heart but is sad they no longer can fit into the playroom he made them when they were babies and that they have to live a bit farther away from the settlement so they don’t accidentally destroy anything. He still likes to walk out to visit them and give them bones when he isn't busy repairing things for everyone, he also likes to help Sole take care of the dragons in general and was even a big helper to Sole when they started training them and they needed someone they could fully trust to always keep an eye on them.

The morning started off as usual for everyone, people going off to do their respective chores and Sturges wandered over to the farthest edge of Sanctuary to take a look at one of the water pumps that had started malfunctioning as of late. He was hard at work when he started to hear gunshots and screaming and quickly looked up to see some settlers running away or grabbing guns and then he saw raiders which made his blood boil.

Elder Maxson: He would be a horrible leader if he didn’t admit he knew Sole went behind his back and kept those baby dragons for all those years and trained them. Normally he would be furious at such insubordination and have the solider executed for this treachery, but he began to realize multiple soldiers of all different ranks had been helping Sole train and or keeping them a secret from him, he very well couldn’t execute half of his best soldiers and commanders. So he let Sole and the dragons be and it turned out to be the best decision he ever made in a long time, Soles dragons were all but making them unstoppable and enemies thought twice about taking the Brotherhood head-on.

The only group that seemed to double its efforts in attacking them was The Institute, Maxson figured it was because of how close they were to pinning down the bastard's location after all these years. With every victory against the Institute though came the cost of more brotherhood soldiers, and Maxson knew it would be foolish not to admit that it was starting to take a mental toll on him, after all, he made it his business to know everyone under his command and make sure they were well trained to face the harshness of the Common Wealth, But the Institute was brutal and the bloodshed on his side had become unreal.

And now out here on the field of battle facing down synths and coursers he knew success was the only option for them to get that one step closer to bringing the Institute down for good. Things were not going in their favor though and they were starting to get pinned down and taken out one by one, as he scanned for anything to help turn this around he spotted a courser coming right for him. He prepared to stand his ground and was ready to die for this cause when the battle suddenly seemed to come to a standstill as a huge shadow blocked out the sun and a deafening roar seemed to shake the very earth. Sole was suddenly taking charge of this battle calling one of their dragons to their aid and using it to defend Maxson, things quickly turned chaotic as the dragon began crushing synths and biting the heads off of coursers including the one that had attempted to attack him.

He used the distraction to his advantage helping to get wounded soldiers out of harm's way, in the blink of an eye the remaining synths had retreated and all that remained were the dead or dying. Maxson looked to where Sole and the dragon stood and watched as they talked to it almost like you would a dog and he what a fool he had been this whole time, to not see what Sole had been offering in service of the Brotherhood this whole time. Maxson did not apologize often because he rarely made mistakes but he was a good enough leader to realize when one was made, and he owed not only a huge apology to Sole but an eternal debt of gratitude for not just saving him but for not allowing the Brotherhood to never fail or falter on their mission.

Shaun (Synth): This boy loved the dragons to the moon and back and was always active in getting them food and training them as they grew every day, and now even though they were big as houses he couldn’t be separated from them. As much as Sole tried to explain that the dragons needed their space in order for them to sleep and hunt and in general get all that energy out, Shaun insisted on constantly being around them even when it made Sole a nervous wreck that he might accidentally get hurt one day. On this particular day, Sole was unaware of how grateful they would be that the dragons were around so much as they did their best to keep Shaun out of harm’s way, but the commonwealth was still a cruel place even with all the good Sole had been doing.

Shaun had been playing outside in Sanctuary while Sole helped make repairs to some of the houses on the further side of the neighborhood when the settlement was attacked by super mutants. Guards were everywhere raising the alarm and getting ready to fight but all Sole could focus on was getting to Shaun quickly, they refused to lose him again. Sole looked to the other settlers surrounding them readying their guns and they were already telling them they had this covered and to get to Shaun. Sole was off like a bullet trying not to panic or let fear overrun their senses, they knew Shaun was a smart kid and was most likely hiding and staying out of harm's way as soon as they heard the alarms go off.

Within moments Sole was surrounded by heavy gunfire between their people and the mutants as they came into the clearing where they last saw Shaun playing and to their horror, a huge behemoth was destroying everything in its path. Sole frantically tried to locate Shaun while avoiding the large chunks of the earth being thrown everywhere by the behemoth, they started to fear the worst when just a little ways behind the behemoth they could see one of the dragons charging forward, its face and fangs a thing of fury and wonder. Even better behind the dragon Sole saw Shaun’s head poke out from behind a tree and they beelined it for him trying to stay out of the chaos. To Sole’s absolute horror though they saw the behemoth pick up a massive stone and hurl it in the direction of Shaun's hiding place and it was like everything was happening in slow motion. They were trying to reach him but nothing would get them there fast enough and all Sole could think of was how they would lose Shaun for a second time. Luckily for them both, the dragon was faster and put it’s self in harm's way taking its full force of it before standing back up and bearing back down on the mutant. Everything after that felt like a blur as Sole was able to reach Shaun and wrapped themselves around him refusing to let go. Meanwhile Shaun was going on and on about how the dragon saved him and if Sole saw how cool it looked, Sole could only laugh through there tears as they continued hugging him.

#fallout 4 #fallout reacts #fallout 4 non-companions #elder maxson #synth shaun #sturges #Fallout 4 fantasy react

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tcoti-official · 9 months

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Okay dream. Tell me, exactly WHERE is the logic in torture and mutilation?

You seem to forget he wasn’t just imprisoned (without a trial, no less), he was kept on drugs that made him forget everything about who he was and why he was there, kept in a vat of acid that kept him unconscious via excruciating pain (and slowly dissolved his bones), abused by literally everyone around him (except a single kind person) and was then sent to be EXECUTED (again, with no way to defend himself and with no trial). The sheer intensity of the agony he suffered turned him into a monster beyond recognition, with negative energy so strong you BLACKED OUT when in close proximity. That was all caused by the anguish of betrayal and trauma. (And let’s not forget the time when two employees broke in just to carve stuff on his bones…how ethical! And such good security!)

HOW the FUCK was ANY OF THAT logical or necessary?!

Dream: If you caught me in a better mood I might have just given you a very polite statement but I did a lot of public speaking and debate so I'm going to tear apart your points one by one. To start, I do not condone torture, nor have I ever. Even with Error. There were things that had to be done, such as the amnesia drugs and the water tank. Also I'm sorry but we're not giving a trial to someone the entire multiverse knows is guilty. It's like trying to give a wild tiger a trial that has blood all over its muzzle and 15 corpses surrounding it. At least a tiger might have been hungry. We wouldn't even be able to hold him in a courtroom and there is not a lawyer in this multiverse that would defend him. He was not a criminal, he was a threat to the lives of everyone alive that had to be purged immediately. The drugs were a necessity as well. There were multiple times we had to remove him for testing. Had he been clear of mind he would have done nothing but howl and bite holes into the legs of people. The medicine did not hurt him. He simply had no memory. He was complacent from what I've heard. Also we never put him in a vat of acid. It was water. The way he glitches works similar to a computer, and it becomes disrupted when contact with water is made. Because his body is used to staying in an impermanent state, it cannot process the abrupt halt of the glitching and begins to send his mind and body into shock. There was no other way to keep him asleep. He is too powerful for any sedatives or medications to keep him under for any longer than half an hour. Would you have rather him be awake? Would you have rather him have to spend all those 2 months lucid? He would have killed everyone in that building and then most likely himself. At least he was unconscious. And to put him down... again, would you rather have him live like that for the rest of his life? With how much they all hated him I was surprised they even decided on it. It wasn't in the original plan Alchemy had said. It was argued that he shouldn't live in agony, and if he really never will see the sun again, then we might as well spare him the pain. Everything else I do not condone. I don't know who broke in and... carved things on Error's arms but they should be punished and caught immediately. I do not condone unecessary harm to others. Also, Error was able to possess me based on the extreme amount of negativity in his system, which overpowered my own senses. It says nothing about his emotional state. Anyways, leave me alone now. Please.

#tcotiaskgame #dream

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honeyhhearted · 1 year

Text

Hold My Hand - Chapter 1

View on AO3

Warnings: None for this chapter!

A/N: I'm really excited to be writing something, and what a better place to start than with the best boy, Loki. We'll get to him soon, promise x

You knew that venturing beyond the safety of your home past nightfall was ill-advised. Your mother had all but confirmed that, as you swung your cloak over your shoulders and lifted its hood.

“Daughter”, she hissed. “You are aware of your curfew, are you not?”

“Yes, mother.” Tucking loose strands of wispy hair into the hood, you turned to her mother stoically. Each time you attempted to leave, your mother supplied a new justification for the systematic removal of your free will. No leaving before sunrise, after sunset, while the sun is at its highest and, if you should find yourself out during these times, your cloak and hood must be up at all times. “I do not understand, though. Am I not approaching my twentieth year? I see no reason to continue this with you.”

Defiance was a rough streak you had carried with you throughout childhood. Your father had told you, at one point jovially, that you’d gotten it from your grandfather. Now, he said it with his lips set to a hard line and clenched jaw.

“Your insolence will get you in as much trouble as my father’s did”, he told you.

Though, a bit of trouble was never enough of a deterrent. You frequently found herself narrowly avoiding it at every turn in your life. Always living a bit outside of your parents’ rules, you found comfort in blurring the line between outright disobedience and malicious compliance.

Now, outright disobedience was something you knew your parents would just have to accept. You were an adult now and, you decided, could choose for yourself what risks you would take.

As you shut the door of your home behind you, you inhaled the sweet scent of the night air. Nighttime has become like an old friend to you. While your family chose to remain in fear of the outdoors and what it may bring, you found comfort in nature. Peaceful, beautiful, safe. You turned, heading into the woods just behind the modest cottage on the edge of town, following the path you had created into a clearing. It was not so far that you could not hear your mother’s calls for curfew as a child, but far enough that you could not be seen. That much was imperative.

As you reached the center of the clearing, you tipped your head back and allowed your hood to fall. The wind softly caressed your cheeks and you smiled as you reached up to unfasten your cloak, wrapping it into a bundle and placing it on a stump along the edge of the clearing.

You always loved this feeling. The beginnings of your seiðr uncoiling in your lower abdomen, the tension loosening from your shoulders. This was a beautiful sensation, and one you knew you had to savor before returning home. Dropping your shoulders, you allowed the magic to flow to your fingertips, a faint yellow glow beginning to radiate from them. It manifested a small ball of energy between your palms, and you slowly rotated it. These small moments are all you had. Mother would kill you if she knew how far you had advanced.

As the ball increased in size, you balanced it over one palm, rotating slowly. It’s then that you heard it.

Snap.

The magic dissipated as your head snapped to the side. No. No, no, no.

Snap.

“Is someone there?” You called, voice cracking. You knew what would happen if you were discovered. Magic like yours was solely that of the Royal Family of Asgard. Odin, the Allfather, would have your head quicker than you could even take your next breath. If you were found, you’d be reported to the Royal Guard and executed. Your family…they would likely face severe punishment, if not death, for hiding you.

Snap. “Please. If someone is there, please spare me. My family, please. I’m doing no harm.”

“Breathe, my lady.” A deep, yet soft voice emerges through the brush.

You turned, eyes wide, scanning your surroundings for the speaker. Your eyes locked on a familiar pair of blue ones, and in that moment, your heart stopped.

Prince Thor. Firstborn son of Odin and Frigga, King and Queen of Asgard.

The Allfather and Allmother.

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#hold my hand #loki fic #loki x reader #loki x you #fanfic #fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #x reader #ao3 #ao3 fic #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader #loki fluff #thor odinson #thor #honeyhhearted

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hb-writes · 2 years

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Parlor Tricks

Summary: When Elisabeth escapes back to Dallas, she's running toward her memories of Godric, hoping that the combination of her visions and being home will bring her comfort she hasn't felt since Godric met the sun. Eric wonders if a little distance might be best for his human charge, at least for now.

Characters: Eric Northman, & Elisabeth Northman (OC)

Request (from anon): Elisabeth Northman -- Angst #33 “I thought it would help, but I just feel empty.”

Content Warnings: angst, grief, Eric being a bit of an asshole (but he thinks it’s for a good cause).

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there.

True Blood (Elisabeth Northman) Masterlist

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Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

It seemed like ages ago, when she left Shreveport for Dallas in search of a temporary reprieve. Elisabeth felt she had lived an entire life between then and now even though only twelve hours had passed. Half of a day. No time at all in the grand scheme of things, but in those twelve hours she’d endured miles of walking through Shreveport and a journey on the 8:25 am Greyhound to Dallas followed by more walking until she finally made it home.

Elisabeth was certain she had experienced every emotion and sensation on the spectrum along the way. They'd all been fleeting—temporary, but she didn’t feel any of it any longer—not the fear or the pain or the hunger. Not the hot Dallas sun that was burning her sensitive skin still. She couldn’t even reach for the anger that had brought her here in the first place, the terrible, all-consuming, unbearable ire and loathing that had her up with the sun and gone from Fangtasia before much of the human world was fully awake.

She waited just seconds after Eric and Pam were tucked away in their coffins before running. It had taken everything in her to wait that long, blinded as she was by the swell of emotions in her, but Elisabeth had needed to be smart. She had known that much. Eric and Pam would have stopped her if she tried to leave any earlier.

Stupid.

Pathetically sentimental.

Not safe.

That’s what she imagined Eric would say about her impromptu trip across state lines.

For someone who treated Elisabeth like a thoroughly loathed chore, Eric afforded spectacular attention to the girl’s safety. And for a person concerned so greatly with her safety, he certainly threatened her with more harm by way of maintaining compliance than one would expect. She could only imagine what his response would be to this. Maybe he'd finally follow through on one of his threats.

The day’s journey was the most traveling Elisabeth had ever done on her own, the most independence she'd ever executed, and Eric was probably going to kill her for it. Or maybe someone else would get to her first. Either way, Elisabeth couldn’t quite muster enough energy to care.

Let Eric kill her. Let him do whatever he wanted. Elisabeth couldn’t imagine any punishment or any restriction he imposed could be worse than what she was already feeling.

In the depths of her pain, nothing else mattered.

Nothing else compared.

And no one else understood.

Only one person ever had understood her, or even tried.

And now he was gone.

Elisabeth knew Eric was pained by Godric’s absence as she was, but Eric was getting by. He was pushing through. Elisabeth longed to do the same. Though she said she didn’t care for Eric and though he had become a sort of keeper more than any sort of caregiver, she had tried to emulate the way he handled their collective loss. She tried to allow time to heal the hurt. She tried to occupy herself with the lessons Eric had arranged for her and the comings and goings at Fangtasia, at least the limited ongoings Eric allowed her to know of. She tried to move on with her new life, but over and over again, Elisabeth found that she couldn’t, the distractions were short-lived.

The only thing actually helping her get by was escaping into her visions. She’d taken to settling Godric there in her mind, sat beside her in one of the places they’d visited in Sweden or, as was more common these days, at their home in Dallas. She’d talk with him for hours, just as they always had in real life, the visions reminiscent of their daily check-ins before he had decided to meet the sun.

Godric and Elisabeth always used to sit out on the back patio after the sun went down. Elisabeth would catch him up on the short time in her life he’d missed while still sleeping, often little more than a few hours he’d missed, and then they’d talk about nothing and everything before going their separate ways for much of the rest of the evening—Godric to his duties as sheriff and Elisabeth to her tutors and her studies. It had been close to a daily ritual and they only veered off course on the days labeled as special in some way, the days where they didn’t have duties to call them to task. On those days, they could instead simply exist. They could talk and pass time in one another’s company without needing to set a schedule for it.

But Elisabeth had a new life now. She had a new daily routine set by Eric’s rules, similar to her previous life and glaringly different at the same time. She still had her tutors and studies. She still maintained a sleep schedule opposite of most in her species. But it wasn’t the same. Eric wasn’t expelling any effort to sit her down and ask after her wellbeing. They didn’t settle out by the backdoor after sundown, looking out at the Fangtasia parking lot as they chatted, but Elisabeth had very quickly tried to convince herself that she didn’t need Eric to care. She didn’t even want him to.

Elisabeth told herself she didn't need Eric to care. She had Godric, still. She still saw him daily—sometimes more. She conjured him up whenever the whim struck her now. When she was lonely or afraid or angry or confused or simply bored, she called Godric to her, seeking his guidance, his comfort, or his mere presence. She found herself lost in the visions more frequently than she was in tune with what was happening in the world around her, almost as if she wanted the visions to be real and her existence in the real world just a dream—temporary like a nightmare.

It still wasn’t enough though. The projections were never good enough or long enough or real enough. The visions didn’t give her enough of Godric. The comfort this version of him offered was nothing more than the echoes of the things he’d said to her at one time or another over the years, a reincarnation of her mind that could never be as good as the original.

But Elisabeth needed it. She needed him. She needed to hear his real voice, to feel his embrace, his guiding hand on her shoulder. She needed to be in a place that had actually known his presence, his life, his light. She imagined that would help. She imagined it would make him stronger, more real. And she wasn’t going to let Eric stop her from having that.

She wouldn’t let Eric keep her from their home, from Godric.

The place that had once been her home was now no more than charred remains, but Elisabeth hadn’t even seen what was really there. A projection of her own design had been firmly in place by the time she arrived—the gate at the front rebuilt, the glass walls well-intact, the garden beautifully maintained. She’d comforted by the idea of their home being intact, unaltered. She'd been comforted by the idea of love once again filling their home.

Elisabeth's mind hadn’t questioned it, so desperate was her mind to forget the bombing and Godric's death. So desperate Elisabeth was to believe it was real. And she almost did. She’d gotten good enough with her powers now that it could be believable, but seeing her old home in all its former glory still wasn’t enough.

The Godric of her imagination wasn’t enough either. There was still something missing, some spark that nestled in her heart and reminded her it wasn’t real, reminded her he was gone. Godric was gone and Elisabeth was just holding onto the past rather than living in the present.

As the sun fell behind the horizon, a chill crept into Elisabeth’s sunburned skin and for the first time in hours, her projection flickered revealing the somber truth of her surroundings. She could finally see what was left of Godric’s compound—nothing but rubble and ashes. There was no Godric. There was no love—just a silly, pathetic little girl who had traveled state lines by herself. Just an idiot who had fled from the only person who at least had a sliver of interest in keeping her alive.

Elisabeth put her head in her hands as the world continued to grow dark around her. She didn’t look up when she heard the whoosh of air signaling Eric’s arrival. She didn’t think she’d need to, convinced that if he had any interest in eye contact, Eric would make it happen of his own accord.

She waited for his opening line. She imagined some sarcastic words or some sort of threat meant to inspire her quick compliance, but Eric stayed silent. Elisabeth pulled her head up to look at him, to make sure the silence belonged to him even though she could sense it was him from somewhere deep within her. Even without looking, she had known. It was almost as if the tether formed by his blood worked both ways now. She could feel him too. His presence was something she could sense, something she just knew.

Eric was in front of her when she pulled her eyes to his, looking not at her, but at the desiccated lot surrounding them. He gently kicked a piece of rubble, sending it skittering across the ground before he met Elisabeth's eye.

So much had happened in the brief period since Godric left them. Eric hadn’t ever wanted anything to do with the girl. He hadn’t been interested in caregiving or possessing the girl to start with, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated it being so difficult. He hadn’t anticipated the sheer effort it would involve, protecting a human that seemed not to want to be protected, so careless with herself, and for what? To sit in a yard of rubble and memories?

Eric remembered when they first met. Elisabeth had been so desperate to stay in Dallas then. She had fought him on going to Shreveport. She had wanted to be with Isabel, the only family she knew that was left in the world. She had fought him on nearly every decision since then and Eric couldn't help but wonder if maybe leaving her with Isabel would be for the best. Maybe with all that was going on, they both would be better off with some distance. He didn't have to explain his decision to her, but they'd settled into a familiar schema around these types of things and it was habit—nearly comforting by now. Eric would make a declaration. Elisabeth would fight him. Eric would offer an explanation, something practical and sarcastic—oozing with condescending indifference or thinly veiled frustration.

Eric had a handful of reasons already cataloged in his mind to explain the decision to leave her, but most of them were more thoughtful and kind than he wished for her to know. They wouldn't do, so he settled on the most neutral one within his reach—consequently, the most familiar as well—to half-heartedly explain himself.

“I don’t have time for this,” Eric said. His words weren’t angry, just tired. Elisabeth hadn't noticed the nuance. And she only half-listened to his words, anyway. She had made it abundantly clear that she did not care about inconveniencing Eric and that stance was no different now. In truth, Elisabeth didn't care much about anyone other than herself—with all of the grief, it felt as though she didn’t have room for anything else. Even the fear she held for Eric and Pam was shrinking, somehow less powerful than the resonating pain and guilt she still held over Godric’s death, over the aching loss she felt in her life. She supposed that was what got her here, to Texas, well outside of the limits Eric had set for her. The pain of loss weighed on her soul was far heavier than whatever fear she held of Eric.

And she didn’t care if he was mad.

She didn't care what he did to her.

Surely nothing could be so bad as…

“You don’t listen," Eric continued. "You’re going to get yourself killed and—”

“Why do you care?”

Eric stared at her, some part of him surprised to find her gaze set right back on him. Unwavering. The question wasn’t rhetorical, he could tell she wanted an answer. A whole range of reasons came to Eric's mind, revealing different pieces of him, of his heart.

Because Godric requested it—ordered it.

Because your pain and my pain are the same.

Because…

“You’re a promising tool to possess, remember?” Eric said, watching the change in Elisabeth's features, watching her harden against him to cover the hurt she felt from his words. Eric hoped that would keep her from trying to return to Bon Temps after he left her. He hoped it would keep her far away from where people were disappearing. He hoped the anger would keep her safe. “Overpriced, a pain in the ass, but maybe someday you’ll be capable of more than useless parlor tricks...if you get yourself killed, we’ll never know though. Will we?”

“Terribly wasteful of you,” Eric continued, knowing in his mind that he believed those particular words to be genuinely truthful. He didn’t wish to tease out what he really meant and he was grateful Elisabeth didn’t ask, but he couldn't deny that he believed it deep in his soul, or whatever was left of it.

Elisabeth’s loss would be a waste—to him, to the world.

Elisabeth turned from Eric. She looked back at what remained of the house as she steeled her features. She could remember meeting him for the first time, there in the living room. She remembered the way Stan had introduced her using some of the same words and phrases Eric had just repeated.

A promising tool to possess.

Overpriced.

Useless parlor tricks.

Only ‘pain in the ass’ was Eric’s own vernacular, his own preferred phrase to describe her, but somehow all of the words landed differently when issued from his lips. Somehow, it had come out gentle and kind. even if he hadn't meant for it to land that way.

Elisabeth had grown used to Eric’s words—he seemed to have a sarcastic, stinging comment for everything, and part of her longed for it now. She longed for him to say something that would enrage her because being filled with rage would be better than the overwhelming realization that there was nothing here for her any longer—no home, no Godric, no love. The anger would at least stop her from feeling empty and alone. Maybe it would stop her from missing all of it so much, but even as the thought crossed her mind, Elisabeth knew it wasn’t true. She couldn’t stop missing her old life. She’d never stop missing Godric. And Eric would never stop reminding her of him. It was Godric who had brought them together and now Elisabeth couldn’t be in Eric’s presence without her mind reminding her of that fact, of everything they’d lost.

"This was dangerous,” Eric finally said into the quiet that had settled between them. “Careless.” His voice was still gentle. He wasn't angry and Elisabeth couldn’t find it within herself to be angry either. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Elisabeth admitted. “I...I thought it would help…" She looked down at her hands. They were the conduit. She still needed physical contact in order to transmit the visions. She needed to touch another person’s skin or to ball her own hands into tightly clenched fists. She refrained from doing so now though the draw was tempting. “But I just feel empty. He—”

“He isn't here,” Eric said, his words the very same as Elisabeth intended to say if only she’d been able to get them out. Eric’s words came out in the same tone, the same resonating pain Elisabeth felt in her own heart.

“He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

Eric stared ahead at the ruins of their father’s home and then up at the light-polluted sky further convinced that this was what Elisabeth wanted—to be in Texas, to be with Isabel. Maybe that would be for the best, Eric thought once again.

Maybe with Isabel, the girl would stay put. Maybe she’d stop fighting. At the very least, she’d be out of the way while Eric focused on finding Bill. She’d be free from the business with the King of Mississippi. She'd be safe.

Eric held a hand down to Elisabeth, intending to pull her up from the dust and dirt, but she shook her head. Elisabeth pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face in her hands. Eric sighed, placing his hand on the top of her head instead.

Elisabeth didn’t pull away. She wasn't entirely sure what the gesture was meant to communicate, but she remained still, savoring the bit of connection. Eric squatted down after a moment, shifting his hand to tip Elisabeth’s face up to him.

“You’ll stay here with Isabel,” he said, searching Elisabeth’s eyes for some type of response. He’d expected to see relief flow through her, but he didn’t find it.

Elisabeth’s only response was to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Eric took the opportunity to catch her hand and he pulled Elisabeth to her feet. He didn’t mention the fleeting vision he saw when she squeezed his palm, leveraging the hold as she straightened her legs. He didn't mention it, but he saw everything—the intact house, exactly as it was when Eric first came to Dallas...

Eric didn’t say anything, but Elisabeth saw the way his eyes lingered. She closed her eyes, knowing he’d spotted her version of Godric—smiling and patient, eyes full of kindness as he waited in one of the imagined patio chairs.

“C’mon,” Eric said, turning her and giving her shoulder a gentle shove in the direction of the street. “We’ll find Isabel and—”

“It’s only temporary, right?”

Eric couldn’t be sure what exactly Elisabeth meant. It could've been a hundred different things—the feeling of emptiness, the visions, the pain...her impromptu stay with Isabel in Dallas. Eric supposed it didn’t matter. He hoped for her sake and for his that all of those things would be short-lived. They all stirred something in him, some part of him uncomfortable with knowing the girl was in pain, her impending absence weighing on him in ways he hadn’t anticipated until Elisabeth voiced the question.

Eric could have offered her comfort. Eric could've just said yes. To Eric, years seemed like minutes and everything was temporary. That was how it was when you lived long enough, when your future stretched on for an eternity, but Eric knew time wasn’t the same for the girl who had yet to reach her third decade of life. It felt like a lie to answer that way. It felt needlessly cruel.

Eric could have tried to put words to what he knew of life and loss and pain, but the closeness forming between them was already feeling too strong. Her anger with him was wavering. He didn’t know how long he’d need her to remain in Isabel’s care, but however long it was be better for Eric to remain distant. There was no need for Elisabeth to believe he was capable of compassion now. It was better for her to remember his brutality, better for her to think he was needlessly cruel. Better for her to not know the purpose.

“Why? You going to miss me?” Eric snorted as he looked down at her, his features shifting to mirror the pitiful look on Elisabeth's face.

Elisabeth gulped, remaining quiet as she contemplated the truth, part of her afraid of it—afraid of the fact that she would miss Eric.

Eric chuckled at her silence, a familiar sarcastic condescension forced into his tone as he spoke. "I suppose if you do, you can just conjure me up, too. Another of your useless little parlor tricks."

Since Eric had arrived, the wave of hurt that had started to abate, but Elisabeth felt the swell of pain once again at Eric's words, the hurt accompanied by embarrassment and anger and...though she wanted them, Elisabeth found she couldn't quite reach the feelings of hate. Hating him would make it easier. It would make the pain she felt at his hurtful words subside more quickly. It would make their impending time apart more of a welcome reprieve, but Elisabeth found she couldn't manage it. As she met Eric's eye, she felt the wave of hurt and anger and embarrassment fall away, too, some part of Elisabeth suddenly convinced that Eric's words weren't genuine.

They were forced.

They were nothing more than a useless parlor trick.

They were meant to deceive and distract.

But Elisabeth wasn't fooled. She knew they were also meant to protect though she wasn't sure which one of them the facade was protecting—Eric or Elisabeth? She hadn't considered it could be both.

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