#THE KINDEST AND MOST NOBLE GIRL IN THE.

[slipperywhenwet0o0]

HE TRIED TO TAKE THE MOON!!!!!!

WE FUCKING KILL HIM!!!!!!

#FUCK ZHAO #HE KILLED THE MOON #HE CAUSED PRINCESS YUES DEATH #THE KINDEST AND MOST NOBLE GIRL IN THE. #NORTH POLE #AND HE WOULDNT GET OF ZUKOS ASS AND OUT OF ZUKOS WAY #A CONTINUOUS VERMIN #apologies tk vermin #I WISH ZUKO KILLED YOU #MAYBE THAT WOULD HAVE FUCKED UP ZUKOS REDEMPTION AND FITURE FRIENDSHIP WITH AANV IDK #I WANTED TO SEE HIMDONIT #LEAVE MY 1RST AND 3RD ROYAL TEENAGERS ALONE #(2ND IS AZULA) #FUCK OFFFFFFF #zuko #sorry I just love the moon and zuko #both our moon and yue as the charecter and moon #I want peace and justice for both of them #the justice is specifically Zhaos agonizing death #ATLA #princess yue #fuckface #Zhao #the moon #I and learning about warship of the moon I feel very strongly about her #you need to leave her alone dickhead #keep my wife's name out of your fucking mouth #I’m also kinda off high

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader: The Handmaid and the One-Eyed Prince

Warnings: sexual assault, violence, trauma

Short summary: you are the handmaiden to Princess Helaena and her brother-husband, Prince Aegon, tries to take advantage of you

No. of words: 3517

A/N: Should I develop this plot further or keep it as a one shot? Let me know, please <3

HOTD AND GOT MASTERLIST

* * *

Just like young boys from noble houses became squires and cupbearers to lords higher than them, the same way girls from lower noble houses became handmaidens to prominent ladies. You were no exception only that you served Princess Helaena herself, the wife and sister of Aegon, the first son of King Viserys Targaryen. It was an incredible honour for your family. You did not dislike it either for Princess Helaena must have been one of the kindest and gentles people in all of the Seven Kingdoms; her young children no different. It was your duty to help the toddlers get dressed everyday and spent time with them, make sure they are fed and content. Sometimes Princess Helaena would give your duties onto one of the servants to be able to spend time with you since you’ve grown quite close in the past months. She was a peculiar being but equally astonishing. Most of all, she was kind to you unlike anyone else, which is something that you could not say for her brother-husband. It made your stomach twist into knots each time his lecherous gaze would fall upon your body and your eyes. Prince Aegon did not spend much time in his wife’s chambers – for which you were grateful – unlike his brother, Prince Aemond, who acted more as a father to his nephew and niece than Prince Aegon could ever hope to be (not that he had any interest, that was as plain as day).

Prince Aemond on the other hand was much like his sister yet completely different at the same time. He was always gentle and courteous with you as was Princess Helaena but as a person, his personality was entirely dissimilar. Perhaps it is easier to say that he was the complete opposite of his brother Aegon. Prince Aemond was a skilled swordsman able to unhorse a seasoned knight of twice his age. He also spent the majority of his time – when he was not practicing swordplay – with a book in his hand, studying languages, philosophy, history and warfare. He was dutiful and just despite his occasional quick temper and eternally unforgiving nature although he normally reserved those traits for the battlefield rather than the court.

Whereas most people found Prince Aemond intimidating, even hideous due to his scar and the sapphire eye you heard he was hiding beneath the leather eyepatch, you did not find him unhandsome. Quite the opposite really but you had to reserve your feelings for yourself, being a rather low-born lady from a house of little significance. On the other hand, it was Prince Aegon who many loved and admired for his good looks and false courtesies who you could not help but find absolutely revolting. From the way he treated his wife, Princess Helaena and neglected his children. But what frightened you most, were the atrocities you have heard he has committed to his servants. You often dined with the rest of the help of the Red Keep. You all gathered in the kitchens in the late evenings after the lords and ladies of the court had fallen asleep and heard tales that made you lose all your appetite.

It was only a few days ago when a comely girl called Dyana disappeared from court. You knew her better than most because she helped take care of the toddler twins. It was rumoured that Prince Aegon called her to his chambers and abused her with lack of any remorse or mercy. Some servants from the kitchens said they were in love but the Queen Alicent forbade their relationship. You knew that was but impossible, having met both Dyana and Prince Aegon but you did not say anything. The walls had ears and if you spoke ill of Prince Aegon yourself, a good chance was you might be next.

It was a few weeks later when the court celebrated the twins’ nameday. You escorted Princess Helaena and the children to the gardens of the Red Keep where they held the celebration. There was music and dancing and mummers and puppeteers. Prince Aegon was slouched in his chair with a cup of wine in his hand and a bored expression on his face. Prince Aemond and Queen Alicent were speaking near the stone fence overlooking the Blackwater Bay; Prince Aemond’s face unyielding as ever although the look in his eyes did soften whenever he spoke to his lady mother.

When you escorted Princess Helaena and the twins to the dais with chairs and pillows, little Princess Jaehaera began to cry for her toy dragon. You tried to console her but it was no use.

“I will fetch the toy, Princess,” you spoke gently to your lady. She smiled and nodded but you could only see, although with the corner of your eye, Prince Aegon’s bloodshot gaze that threatened to strip you naked. Your chest grew heavy as you bowed courteously and hurried back into the Red Keep.

The stairs made your abdomen hurt yet when you heard another pair of footsteps on your trail, you forgot all about the pain. You did not want to look around because you already knew what you were about to see although you prayed to all the gods you could think of to it not be true. Before you even managed to look around, a rough hand clasped around your elbow. You gasped at the sight of Prince Aegon as he pushed you in the nearby room. There was a table there rich with foods, a bed with canopy and a dead hearth. It must have been just another lord or lady’s chamber but Prince Aegon could not care less. He pushed you against the table, causing the entire thing to move. The wine spilled from the cups and the food scattered.

“Please let go of me, my Prince,” you urged, trying to keep stoic and convince him this was folly but he would not listen. He was drunk besides.

“Shut up,” he growled as he grabbed your hair, his teeth baring. There was so much wine on his breath, it made you ill to your stomach. Your eyes watered despite you struggling against it.

It was when the forced you around and tore at your gown that you lost all sense of his position on yours. All you wanted to do was to save yourself. You fought back and kicked at him, reaching back to claw at his arms. You left scratch marks on his hands, the sight of blood angering him blind.

“How dare you!” spat Prince Aegon and slammed your head flat against the table. You yelped and lost all sense of reality. The room was spinning as sickness crept up in your stomach but you would not give in. You could not; it was not in your nature.

As you sobbed and tears blocked your vision, Prince Aegon had already forced himself inside you. You screamed as you clawed against the table, your fingers grasping a shard of a broken cup. You reached back with as much strength as was left in you. The glass cut Prince Aegon’s cheek. He staggered on the floor, drunk as he was, dismayed by the blood that soaked his hand and nearly blinded him. The princely crown fell off his head and rolled into the ashen hearth. You let go of the bloodied piece of broken glass, equally stunned by your actions. You stumbled back a few steps before turning on your heel and running away for dear life.

Princess Jaehaera’s toy was the last thing on your mind as you ran to your own small chambers and barred the door. You slipped to the floor as an uncontrollable cry took hold of you. Your palm was bleeding as well from handling the sharp piece of glass but it was the least of your pains.

A servant girl came asking about you shortly after on Princess Helaena’s orders. You could only say you were not feeling well and asked for a basin of scalding hot water. It was only when they brought it, that you opened the door to take it. You barred the door once again and took off your torn gown. You scrubbed your body raw, unable to supress the sobs escaping your chest as you did so. Despite the water so hot it nearly made your skin burn, despite the brush you used to scrub yourself, you still felt dirty although the worst was yet to come.

When evenfall came, you did not go down to eat. You could not bring yourself to look anyone in the eye although they did not know, they could not know, what had happened, much less find the appetite to eat. Instead, you curled in your bed and cried. Each time you fell asleep, you saw Prince Aegon finishing what he’d started or even worse, you falling with child. You stopped him in real life before he could make you with child but you could never be sure.

It was a long and arduous night. It would have given you more rest if you had not even tried to fall asleep in the first place. But when dawn broke and morning came, a servant girl came to wake you as she always did. The toddlers would be up soon and given that no one seemed to know what had happened, it probably would not matter even if they did, you still had a job to do.

You crawled from under the covers and fumbled with a gown. Your hands were trembling both from the morning chill as well as from fear. When you finally managed to dress yourself, the reflection in the mirror near made you gasp. Where your head hit the table yesterday, was now a massive red-purple bruise, covering the entire temple and even parts of your cheek. It hurt to touch but you applied powder to your face as best as you could. You brushed your hair to the injured side and styled it in a way that concealed the bruise.

You were just in time when you arrived to Princess Helaena’s chambers. The toddlers had just awakened and broken their fast.

“Princess,” you spoke quietly as you bowed. She was getting dressed herself, assisted by her many maids.

“Oh, hello, Lady Y/N,” spoke Princess Helaena absent-mindedly. “You may dress the children when they’re done eating,” she spoke as kindly and gently as ever. You could tell no one knew a thing by the unchanged expressions on their faces. It was a day like any other.

You nodded and bowed once again before greeting the children. It was a wonder how such innocent and kind souls could come from a creature as foul as Prince Aegon. You brushed their silver-gold hair and washed their little faces before helping them get dressed in matching outfits. A maroon red dress for Princess Jaehaera and breeches and a doublet of the same colour for the young Prince Jaehaerys.

In the meantime, Prince Aemond joined his sister for breakfast. He bowed his head courteously to you when he saw you playing with the children, a shadow of a smile in the corner of his lips. Prince Aemond broke fast with his sister although they barely spoke half a dozen words each. They were both quiet by nature yet seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Contrary to some rumours, Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena were only kindred spirits but never lovers. Dutiful in her nature, Princess Helaena remained loyal to her husband although he did not display the same courtesy to her.

After the breaking of fast, Princess Helaena was summoned to her lady mother, Queen Alicent, for a walk in the gardens whilst Prince Aemond settled with a book in the settee where you played with the children. Prince Jaehaerys played with building blocks whilst his sister occupied herself with the toy dragon that looked like her mother’s pale blue-silver claim, Dreamfyre.

Prince Aemond tried to read his book but his gaze kept on drifting to you. The way your hair fell on the side of your neck, the way your skin bathed in the morning sun, the way your fingers stroked Princess Jaehaera’s hair.

The little girl pretended her toy dragon flew then rested on your shoulder and kissed your cheek. You could not help but smile and forget about yesterday even if only for a moment. But then her small little hand reached to your face. You thought she wanted to touch the ornate pin in your hair but her fingers went to the other side of your face. Before she could even touch your skin, you flinched instinctively.

“Red... red…” blubbered the little girl, “Caraxes…” she murmured, her focus back on her own toy. You realized the colour of your bruise reminded her of the colour of her great uncle Daemon’s dragon.

“What happened to your face, Lady Y/N?” asked Prince Aemond out of the sudden although you prayed he might have lost himself in the book and not heard his niece. You glanced up for but a moment but the prince’s gaze was already upon you. A look so determined in his blue-lavender eye as he closed his book that made you avert your gaze right away.

“It’s… It’s nothing,” you spoke quietly, “I stumbled on the stairs yesterday when I went to fetch Princess Jaehaera’s toy.” Your lie seemed convincing enough to you but not to someone like Prince Aemond.

“What a coincidence,” he began. “My brother got injured himself yesterday. Says he fell asleep with his dagger still on him and it somehow cut his cheek.”

Your eyes were pin-pointed on the little princess’ toy dragon as you pushed tears further and further away. It took every fragment of strength still in your body to keep you from crying.

“I’m sorry that happened to his Royal Highness,” you spoke quietly for if you rose your voice any higher, it would surely have broken.

“What I find strange,” said Prince Aemond slowly, “Is that it must have happened the same time you disappeared after going to fetch my niece’s toy.” His voice was dark and steady as he spoke those words. Yours hands began to tremble one again as you stared down at the toy. You did not blink your eyes once but tears fell down your cheeks nevertheless. A part of you hoped Prince Aemond would understand you did not mean to hurt his brother or perhaps Princess Helaena could be so kind and forgive you because she knew what her husband was like. But you realized you have been foolish to hope for something like that. They were all siblings and should Princess Rhaenyra’s claim for the Iron Throne fail, Prince Aegon was the heir apparent and you were but a woman from a house which could hardly even be considered noble, much less wealthy or powerful. The punishment for assaulting a member of the royal family was death, surely.

Prince Aemond put away his book and knelt down beside you. You could not even raise your head to look him in the eye, you could not even move other than shaking from fear alone. You could not see the look on Prince Aemond’s face when he moved the hair from the side of your neck. His fingertips merely brushed against the bruise on your temple but you winced nevertheless. He could see that you tried to hide it beneath powder but it could not hide the painful red and purple marks. They were too deep.

“I…” you began as more silent tears escaped down your cheeks. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to hurt him…” you stuttered, “But if… if I hadn’t…” you continued yet a quiet sob broke your voice. Prince Aemond stood up and you thought he was going to drag you to the dungeons for laying a hand on his royal brother, but instead, he stormed out of the chambers.

You broke down entirely, sobbing so hard not a single sound escaped your mouth. Your arms were wrapped around your abdomen as you waited for Prince Aemond to return with guards or a sword to punish you. But he did not return. He did not even lunch with Princess Helaena and the children like he often would.

You were given leave by your lady to retire to your chambers for the afternoon. When you sat down at the edge of the bed, you felt more exhausted than ever. The memories of yesterday kept intruding your thoughts, the contemplations of what will happen to you as well. Prince Aemond did not seem to tell his sister of what had happened since she behaved no differently than usual.

The door to your bedchamber burst open, making you jump to your feet. Your eyes were wide and fearful as they fell upon Prince Aemond. He was holding his older brother by the collar of his doublet. He pushed him to the floor, forcing him to kneel.

“Kneel!” commanded Prince Aemond as his brother tried to fight back but he was no match for him. Prince Aemond was as skilled of a warrior as any whilst Aegon barely managed to stumble to the training court once in a turn of a moon. “Kneel and pray for my lady’s forgiveness, you fool,” snarled Prince Aemond, pushing his brother to his knees with ease once again. The crown prince gritted his teeth, drunk as always as he looked from under his forehead.

“I pray your forgiveness, Lady Y/N.”

You were too stunned to speak but you could make yourself nod although barely visibly.

“The next time you even take a look at Lady Y/N, I’ll geld you myself. You already have heirs so do not think I won’t do it,” snarled Prince Aemond against Aegon’s ear before letting go of his neck. Prince Aegon staggered to his feet like a young pup and scrammed for the door. But before he could leave, Prince Aemond grabbed the back of his head and slammed it against the hard oaken door.

“I’ll take this as payment for Lady Y/N suffering,” said Prince Aemond calmly. Prince Aegon turned around, a fury so deep in his pale eyes it made you think the two brothers were going to kill each other. But when Aegon saw the smirk on his younger brother’s lips, he thought twice. Slamming the door on his way out, Prince Aegon disappeared yet you flinched once again at the loud bang of wood against stone.

Prince Aemond was staring at the floor, embarrassed for his brother, before he rose his gaze to you. You were looking at him paralyzed. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might give out. Everything you thought would happen did not because of Aemond. You always thought his kindness towards you was but courtesy. You dared not think he might actually care for you. But your heart filled with warmth when your eyes locked. Your mouth parted when Prince Aemond made his way towards you. You took a step back but Aemond cupped your cheeks nevertheless, careful not to touch the painful bruise. His thumbs caressed your skin as he towered over you but you had never felt safer.

“I’ll ask the Grand Maester himself to take a look at your injury, my lady,” spoke Prince Aemond gently as he studies your bruise. “An ointment, milk of the poppy if need be.”

You shook your head lightly as tears filled your eyes once again. “If I could ask for anything,” you began, a tear slipping from each eye.

“Anything,” breathed Prince Aemond.

“I’d like to ask for moon tea,” you whispered and looked down. You were ashamed of yourself yet what had happened was not even your fault.

Prince Aemond did not say anything which forced you to look up into at face once again. You could see him come to understand that you could not defend yourself completely. His eye was wide and his lips parted. In an instant, his nostrils flared and his mouth formed a thin line. Prince Aemond let go of your face and pulled the dagger from its sheath. He turned around, storming for the door, intent on making his threat to Aegon come true.

“No, please, Aemond!” you begged and hurried after him. You wrapped your arms around his torso before he could reach the door and stopped him on his tracks. “Please, don’t,” you pleaded, your forehead leaned against his back, “Please…”

Prince Aemond was breathing heavily in anger but when you called his name, his name alone and not his title, it made his heart catch in his throat. He put his free hand over your palms, squeezing them reassuringly as he closed his eyes. You stood there in silence before you broke once again. Your tears turned into crying, your crying into a heart-breaking sob. Aemond put away his dagger and turned around, cradling your head against his chest. He caressed your hair and kissed the top of your head but his heart was burning with merciless desire to destroy his brother.

#game of thrones #got #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #imagine #hotd

[leche-flandom]

I HAD THE MOST PERFECT DREAM LAST NIGHT

I dreamt that I was set to cat-sit for a neighbor. But THEN I found out that another neighbor had let the cat out and it DIED because it went swimming in a nearby creek and got hit by a motorboat (cat was orange male). So I went to Barnes & Noble to gather some research on revenge like Gone Girl, Titus Andronicus, etc. And then the manager, KEANU REEVES, asked me what I was doing with all those books because I was carrying the pile under my chin like Gus Gus with corn kernels in "Cinderella," and I told him, "They're not just books. They're ingredients." After I explained everything, Keanu decided to stop being the kindest man on earth to help me avenge the poor thing by hunting down the irresponsible neighbor and the boat guy. But we had to make out a little first, right there in the bookstore.

I WOKE UP WITH THE BIGGEST SMILE ON MY FACE

#one time i dreamt #even my husband agreed that this was a good dream #john wick but with a cat #revenge plot #books and reading #keanu reeves #y'all i haven't even seen any of the john wick movies #this and my painting with david bowie dream will be my favorites forever #weird dreams #poor orange cat #sorry i can't help it i like it when revenge turns a good guy bad (like in “the glory!”) ((before we find out he's also a little bad))

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: Leandra smirked at Bruno, “You know what, because it’s you, I’ll make it something easy.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me what my first name is.”

“Oh.”

CH 1 Prev Next Master List

Chapter 19 Detective Bruno

He was going to figure this out. He had to. Bruno was in way too deep to admit to his familia that he had no clue what was happening.

Well, he did have some clue what was happening. Rosalie had rejected Cicero and he had responded by doing something bad, maybe something that had caused her to be raped. Cicero had then offered to marry Rosalie and she rejected him again, at which point he started attacking other women.

In conclusion, Cicero was probably going to burn in hell.

He didn’t mean to judge, it was just, Bruno had been rejected a ton of times in his life. He’d never done anything so bad it led to a woman being raped. People had a right to reject him. They had a right to reject anyone. That was how life worked.

He worked on his list of potential crimes the day after Reina’s date with the creep. 

Rape was illegal, and there was no way any moral person could downplay its terribleness, but Encanto didn’t have any laws against being the cause of rape. Bruno could even see how some people would try to argue it’s not technically Cicero’s fault.

So that was probably what made Cicero a danger to the village. His actions somehow made his victims more vulnerable.

That eliminated half of the things on Bruno’s list. Spying on a woman while she was getting changed was wrong, but didn’t make her anymore vulnerable than she had been before. Same with groping women through their clothes.

Now, telling the wrong person delicate information about somebody might do the trick.

Bruno could see Cicero going down to the cantina and loudly complaining about girls who had rejected him to his many friends. Get the right guy all riled up and… voila, you have a hate crime. Then once you know what it takes, you could do it again and again.

He sighed, scratching his head with the pencil.

Leandra, who was thoroughly enjoying the pastries he’d brought to make up for her terrible day, looked at his list then rolled her eyes, “Bruno, I’m begging you, just talk to Pepa.”

“Now? After all this time?” Bruno shook his head, “Nuh-uh, she’ll have so many questions, the first of which will be why I didn’t ask sooner.”

“Well, it is a valid question,” she grumbled.

“I am very, very sorry I assumed you were evil,” Bruno told her, and he meant it, “I was wrong. You are one of the kindest, most noble people I have ever met, and I know now that you would never intentionally harm an innocent person. I promise, the next time you do something that looks bad, I’ll ask you why. Or, well, I’ll assume you did it without thinking, but I won’t think you did it maliciously!”

She smiled softly at him, “Thank you Bruno, I forgive you. Of course I do.”

“Great,” he nodded, “soooooooo?”

Leandra laughed even as she rolled her eyes again, she shook her head, “Alright. One clue, I will give you one clue, if! If you… agree to come swimming with me on Saturday.”

“I-I can do that,” he stuttered, blushing at his lap.

“You’re overthinking it,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re overthinking it,” she repeated with a shrug, “this whole thing is way less complicated than you think it is.”

“Oh,” he frowned down at his paper. He’s overthinking it. Simple, think simple.

He scribbled out the potential crimes and wrote down his clues again, adding “not complicated” to the list. Leandra glanced over the list and pressed her lips together.

“What?”

“You are such a sweet man,” Leandra told him. She had been wondering why he hadn’t already figured it out, but now that she saw “can be downplayed” on his list of clues she kind of got it. In Bruno’s mind, rape was undeniably bad, no pretending otherwise, end of story.

“What? Sweet?” he looked down at his list, trying to figure it out, “How am I sweet?”

“If I tell you, that would be another clue.”

“Well- alright, b-but couldn’t you tell me anyways? I… I can- name your price.”

Leandra smirked at him, “You know what, because it’s you, I’ll make it something easy.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me what my first name is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed at his arm, mouth opening and closing before he finally tried, “Reina?”

Leandra giggled, shaking her head, “Try again.”

“J-Juanita?”

“No.”

“...Fernanda?”

“Colder.”

“Colder? I-in what way?”

“The first letter of my name is closer to ‘J’ than it is to ‘F’.”

“Oh, ok… Martina?”

She sang a part of the alphabet while counting letters on her fingers, “Warmer.”

“Hm, Olivia?”

“Colder.”

“So… the first letter of your name is between ‘J’ and ‘M’?” he asked, then when she nodded, thoughtfully mumbled, “‘L’ would be the most likely, wouldn’t it? I can’t think of many names that start with ‘K’.”

“You’re burning hot,” she said.

“Lola?”

“Lola?” she repeated, with a frown, “Do I look like a Lola to you?”

“W-well I don’t know, what does a Lola look like?”

“Not like me.”

“That seems a bit subjective,” he muttered, “Liliana?”

“Better, but no.”

“Luz? How about Lucianna? Lucia?”

“No, no, and no.”

Bruno wracked his brain for more “L” names and ended up quietly listing random words that started with the letter. Reina almost fell out of her chair laughing when he looked at her dog, looked at her, and in a desperate sort of voice, guessed, “L-Leche?”

“N-no,” she took a minute, bent over double, “w-why would me and Leche have the same name?”

“Maybe he’s named after you,” Bruno shrugged.

“He is not,” she giggled a little bit longer, “do you give up yet?”

“Do I still get the clue if I give up?”

“Of course not. And I won’t tell you what my name is.”

“Then no,” he idly scratched at the stubble on his chin as he thought, “How many letters does it have?”

“Uh, seven. Why? Does that help?”

“Not even a little bit,” he shook his head, “Uuuuuh, let’s see.”

They sat in silence for a long time as Bruno cast about for names, any time he remembered another name beginning with “L” he would count it off on his fingers, then frown and shake his head.

“Bruno,” she eventually interrupted his process, “I have an idea, it’s a little bit crazy, but I think if you give it a shot you might find it very helpful.”

“What?”

“How about you just ask?”

Bruno frowned, “No, no, I can figure this out.”

“Ay dios Bruno.”

He spent a little bit longer counting on, then scowling at, his fingers. Eventually his shoulders drooped and he heaved a big sigh, much like the ones Leche sometimes heaved when his dinner was a few minutes late.

“Reina?”

“Si?”

“Say I did ask…? Would I still get the clue?”

“You’d get the clue and I’d tell you my name.”

“Hm.”

“Really, if you think about it, communication could fix so many of your problems.”

“Humph,” he crossed his arms and scowled at the wooden counter in front of him. After a few beats he recounted the letters in every L name he could think of, just in case.

Reina started giggling, he didn’t have to ask why. He was being ridiculous and he knew it.

Bruno sighed again, hanging his head.

“Reina?”

“Gua- sorry. Sí?”

“What’s your first name?”

There was a pause, “Well, now I’m kind of tempted not to tell you.”

“What?!” he looked so deeply offended that she couldn’t help but break out into another peal of giggles.

“Bien, bien, I’ll tell you,” she smiled benevolently at him, “You ready?”

“Si.”

“You sure?”

“Reina, I swear-.”

“Leandra.”

“What?”

“My name is Leandra, it’s lovely to meet you,” she stuck her hand out for him to shake, and he took it.

“Leandra,” he breathed, slowly shaking her hand, “it’s pretty. A-and it suits you.”

“Gracias.”

Bruno continued to slowly shake her hand for a few more beats, eyes staring straight through her. Mentally, he was reviewing every moment they’d ever spent together and trying to replace the nickname “Reina” with the name “Leandra”. Eventually, he remembered himself and looked down at her hand in his with horror.

“Oh! Perdon, perdon, I-. Th-that was… weird of me. Perdon,” he let go of her hand like it had burned him, shrinking over to his side of the stall, but Rei- Leandra was already waving it off with a gentle smile.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’m not constantly clinging to you like you’re a teddy bear.”

 He bit his tongue to keep from mentioning how much he liked it when she did that, and gave her a sheepish grin instead. He cast about for something else to say, and remembered why he’d started guessing her name in the first place.

“So uh, w-what does my list of clues have to do with me being sweet?” he asked.

“Oh. Right. Your morals are getting in the way here,” she shrugged, “you’re not going to get it until you put yourself in the shoes of a bad person.”

“A bad person…”

“Uh-huh.”

Bruno folded up the paper and tucked it into his pocket, he closed his eyes and focused, “Bad person, bad person, I am a bad person. I think being poor is a cosmic punishment. I adjust my junk while looking other people in the eye. I-I ask market vendors a million questions, move their stock, and ask for free samples then don’t buy anything.”

She bit her lip and refrained from pointing out that he was merely describing a rude person. He really didn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

Seriously, how was he still single?

No, wait, she knew why. It was probably because he didn’t notice flirting unless it was as obvious as a punch to the face.

Bruno opened his eyes and scowled at the countertop in front of him. Ok, what would a bad person do when they’re rejected?

“He hit her?” he asked, “Wait, no, that’s illegal.”

Leandra smiled at him fondly and shook her head, “Just talk to Pepa.”

“Why don’t you just tell me to jump off a cliff since you’re so intent on my doom,” Bruno gestured dramatically, then he groaned and put his hand over his face, “ugh, why is this so hard?”

“Again, you’re over complicating it,” she reminded him.

He took his list of clues back out and glared at it, waiting for the answer to just jump out at him. It didn’t. He looked at her, maybe she was susceptible to puppy dog eyes, he’d been told his were deadly.

Leandra just crossed her arms.

“Meirda,” he sighed.

She chuckled and shook her head at him again.

“Feeling better?” he asked, setting the list aside for now.

“Much, gracias,” she put a hand on his arm, “and I’m sorry about the way I reacted yesterday. I know that… he’s a spiteful man, i-if he figures out that I’m helping your mother investigate him, it’ll be good to have a friend around.”

Bruno smiled, “Don’t worry about it, I was technically spying on you.That’s uh, that’s kind of not okay.”

“Usually,” she agreed, “but I think in this case, I probably should have asked somebody to tail us. Although, I don’t know if-, I didn’t really want you seeing all that.”

She fiddled with her skirt, watching him from the corner of her eye. The thing with Cicero may have been a giant chess game, but she still didn’t feel comfortable kissing another man in front of Bruno. To be honest, she didn’t feel comfortable kissing another man, period. Having Bruno there just made it especially bad.

They weren’t technically dating, but she knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, so she sort of felt that she shouldn’t be seeing other people too. At least until she was absolutely positive her feelings were one sided.

Bruno didn’t respond. He thought that she may be trying to protect his feelings when she said she didn’t want him seeing her with Cicero. If Bruno had to string somebody dangerous along in order to lure them into a false sense of security, he wouldn’t have been his first choice for back up either. What was Bruno going to do if Cicero attacked her? Throw sand around?

Félix and Felípe would have been better options. They were both strong, and Leandra was good friends with Felípe, so she could definitely count on the brothers to be there for her. Plus, Felípe had gotten into two separate fist fights protecting Rosalie’s honor in the past year, he’d won both of them.

“Ugh, what a creep,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose.

Bruno nodded, “Apparently. I can’t imagine hurting somebody just because they don’t want to date you.”

“Even worse, it’s because Rosalie didn’t believe him when he said he loved her,” she scowled into the middle distance, “so in order to prove her wrong he…?! Ugh!”

Bruno glanced back down at his list of clues, tapping the pencil thoughtfully against his lips. Cicero was definitely responsible for Rosalie’s rape somehow. Did he… did he drug Rosalie so he could prove how trustworthy he was? To show her that he wouldn’t take advantage of her in her vulnerable state?

It was a simple answer, and something he could see a bad person doing. It was illegal, but not a banish worthy offense, hard to prove, easily repeatable, and would explain why Leandra had panicked at the quinceanera. Plus, people might argue that because he didn’t intend for any long lasting harm to be done, he wasn’t actually responsible for the consequences of his actions.

Then when Rosalie turned him down for marriage he might have moved on and drugged other women to show her that what he did wasn’t that bad. That it didn’t always end in his victim’s life being ruined.

“I think… I think I’ve figured it out,” he said slowly.

“Have you?” He didn’t seem angry enough to have realized that Cicero tried to rape his sister.

“Did he drug Rosalie to try to prove he could be trusted?”

Leandra pressed her lips together and tapped her toes, “You… are on the right track. It’s worse than that.”

“Right, right,” Bruno made a note about Cicero’s spitefulness, “because he’s motivated by his anger.”

She made an affirmative noise.

He tapped the pencil against his lips a few more times, “I… don’t like any of the answers I’m coming up with.”

“Then you’re definitely on the right track,” Leandra said darkly.

He couldn’t be the rapist, right? It… she had said that people might try to argue that Cicero’s crime wasn’t that bad, and there was no denying that rape was an utterly disgusting, heinous crime. Plus, being raped had resulted in Rosalie being kicked out of her home, being shamed by the whole village, being treated like an outcast. How could anyone say that “wasn’t that bad”?

No. No, it couldn’t be rape. Bruno couldn’t believe that anyone would excuse that sort of thing. He knew people could be cruel, boy did he know, but that was a step too far.

He folded the paper back up and put it away. There would be more clues, eventually.

“So, swimming?”

“Sí, since you love throwing yourself in the nearest body of water, I figure we could make a day of it,” she grinned at him, blowing him a kiss when he scowled at her.

“Well maybe if you- I mean why are- If you weren’t constantly hiding next to the river, lying in wait, I would trip less,” he wagged a finger at her, enjoying the way she giggled.

“What can I say,” she curled her hands like claws, “it’s all a part of my evil scheme. Step one, throw food at Pepa. Step two, throw you in the river a few times. Step three, I’ll have to figure out later. Step four, take over the world.”

“Sounds like step three is going to be a real doozy,” he chuckled.

“Oh it is, just you wait,” she nodded, “I would do an evil laugh but I don’t know how. That might be step three actually, figuring out my evil laugh.”

“Oh, that’s easy, just watch,” he held up a finger and fixed his posture so he could use his whole chest for this. Bruno took a deep breath then let out a low gravelly chuckle that slowly built into a deep laugh with the occasional grating cackle mixed in. 

When he was done Leandra applauded him, “That was beautiful. A real work of art.”

“G-Gracias,” he responded, blushing under her praise.

“You should try out for next year's play,” she suggested, “you’re pretty good.”

The old shoemaker had started a community theatre that put on a play once a year for the harvest festival. Auditions had already passed for this year’s play, an adaptation of Hombre Caiman’s story, but there was already debate over what next year’s play would be. Bruno had always thought of trying out, but had never gotten up the nerve.

“Oh, I-I don’t think-, I mean I’m so busy doing, y’know, Seer things, and, and nobody wants to see a play with-. Well, you know, it… I-I doubt they’d give me a starring role, if you catch my drift,” he rubbed at his arm.

Leandra put a hand on his shoulder, “I want to see a play with you as the star, and anyone with an ounce of sense would see that your talent is way more important than your reputation. Hell, I bet once you get going people would forget they’re watching you, I’m sure if you wanted you could be completely invisible behind your character.”

Bruno smiled at her, “N-now you’re being sweet.”

“No, just honest,” she squeezed his shoulder, then took her hand back, turning to greet a pair of teenagers coming by for an afternoon snack.

He stared at her as she spoke to the teens, asking them about school and one of the kids’ apprenticeship. The other was the eldest son in his family, and thus was training under his father to inherit the foundry. Unsurprisingly, Leandra was able to make both kids laugh as she fetched them a wheel to split, and shared a couple of the pastries he’d brought her.

“Although technically, you should thank Bruno for these, he bought them,” she said.

The teens gave each other a look, but ultimately shrugged, turned to him and chorused, “Gracias Señor.”

“Oh, that’s- really it’s- you’re welcome,” Bruno said.

There was a brief pause, the teens staring at him, no doubt sensing blood in the water. He remembered well how cruel kids could be. 

Leandra made the tiniest sound in her throat, pulling attention back to herself, and asked one of the kids how their tia was doing. She listened intently to the answer, better but still ill, and gave the kid a small soap to give to the aunt in question.

Bruno felt tension ease out of his shoulders when the two teenagers walked away.

“They’re just slightly smaller people,” Leandra said, probably trying to reassure him.

“That’s the problem,” he retorted, “they’re people. People don’t like me.”

“Well they should,” she shrugged, “and I continue to believe that they would if they got to know you.”

He snorted, one side of his mouth quirking up, “Maybe.”

“I did,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re… really nice. A-And you like everybody.”

“No, I’m nice to everybody because I’m an adult who understands that just because I don’t enjoy a person’s company, doesn’t mean I have a right to be rude to them,” Leandra glanced around and dropped her voice, “the truth is I don’t like most people. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, just because I’m kind of judgie like that.”

“W-Wait, really?” he asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

“I mean… I don’t actively dislike many people, I just… don’t enjoy being around most people,” she continued in a quiet voice, “I think a lot of people are boring, or I get annoyed with them for being annoyed by something harmless, even though I get annoyed by harmless things all the time. I’m angry at a lot of people for believing the rumors about Rosalie, despite the fact that I’ve believed plenty of rumors myself. Like I said, this is me being a bit of a hypocrite so I try not to make it anyone else’s problem. I do my best to be polite to everybody, and only accept invitations from people I actually like.”

“Oh,” Bruno turned this new facet of her personality around in his head, it fit neatly with yesterday’s “upset with, but not blaming, me” thing. He figured he must not be one of the people she found boring, since not only had she accepted his invitation to a picnic, she had actively gone out of her way to spend time with him.

“Sometimes I think it’s just because I don’t spend enough time with people to feel comfortable around them,” she was frowning thoughtfully, “I mean, I enjoy Felipe’s company as much as I do Rosalie’s and they are pretty different. Other than the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time with both of them. I don’t… Growing up I only came down from the mountain for school and church, so I don’t know a lot of the villagers that well.”

“I… think I actually know what you mean,” Bruno said slowly.

“Sí?”

He nodded, “I don’t really know a lot of people that well either, and I don’t feel comfortable around… well basically anyone. S-sometimes I get these- these thoughts, and they’re not nice, a-and they actually kind of scare me sometimes, but I just… I just don’t like most people. I don’t trust them.”

She smiled at him gently, “That’s fair.”

“Is it?”

“I think so,” she shrugged, “people haven’t given you a lot of reasons to trust them. Or like them.”

He frowned down at his lap, then laughed sort of bitterly, “Yeah.”

“The important bit is that you’re still kind to people,” she indicated the pocket he’d tucked his list of clues into, “you’ve never done anything like that. Not even close. You still care about helping people and being empathetic. Even when people are being horrible to you. That’s really admirable.”

Bruno didn’t respond, he was simultaneously tempted to start complaining about every mean thing anyone had ever said to him in his entire life, and to try fishing for more compliments. 

Perhaps he should warn her to stop giving him the attention and approval that he so craved, every time she called him admirable, or a good actor, it got harder and harder to be normal about their friendship.

“Anyways, we’ve gotten really serious,” Leandra shook her head and laughed at the both of them, “let’s talk about something more fun. Like um… where do you want to go swimming?”

“How about-,” he hesitated, he’d been about to suggest the pool he’d caught her doing laundry in, but he needed to not say that, it was too intimate, “my cave?”

It took all of his will power to keep from slapping his forehead. That was possibly the only place more intimate than the pond.

Leandra raised an eyebrow, she thought about asking him if inviting her back to his bedroom for scantily clad, wet, fun meant anything, but decided not to push her luck. She didn’t want him rescinding the invitation.

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

“Great,” he said, tightly. The mixture of dread and anticipation he felt was almost interesting enough to distract him from the burning in his cheeks.

“I’ve actually had a dream about swimming in your pool, I think. It was kind of vague, but I was talking to a rat, so I assume.”

Bruno snorted, “That- yeah, that sounds like my pool.”

The conversation moved on to dreams, and how weird they could be. Bruno, thankfully, restrained himself from mentioning how many of his she had appeared in, but told her about the occasional prophetic dreams he had.

When Bruno got home that evening, he thought about talking to Pepa, he really did. But as his mind ticked over all the different possibilities, each more terrible than the last, he began to feel a bit queasy.

For the first time he wondered if he really wanted to know.

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno encanto #Love and Fury

[theduckeminence]

△ for Tanggol: have you had psst relationships? If so how were they? How did they end?

△ also for Tanggol: what's your most embarrassing memory?

Level of intrusiveness: 5.5-7ish

(This takes place before Tanggol met Pakku)

“Oh okay um…” Tanggol sits there for a minute, trying to recollect on his past relationships while scratching beneath his headband.

“I know I had a couple few. My first relationship was with a girl Mayumi. She was really nice—pretty too. Though our relationship really didn’t go much of anywhere and she wasn’t one for big or romantic gestures. I didn’t blame her for it though since we were just entering our adulthood—or teen hoods if you will.”

“When I was in my later teens—probably around 18–my second was a girl named Diwata and she…well. She wasn’t the best person in the world to say the least. Was always easily jealous and never liked whenever I talked to friends or other people in general. Her family were the kindest of people, though I never understood why she was the way she was. Though I’m pretty sure it’s because of how spoiled she was—since she came from the main capital where most nobles would be.” Tanggol hums, glancing up in thought. “Hmph, thinking back at it now, I’m glad I broke things off with her. I’m also glad her parents tried to apologize as she attempted to send her brothers after me.” He chuckles lightheartedly. “Ah well, families are families.”

“My third relationship was actually with a shaman named Buwan.” Tanggol continued. “Buwan was bit more of an older gentlemen. Very wise, soft-spoken, patient—and of course, beautifully handsome.” He flushes with a little beam and rubs the back of his neck. “I met with him when I was having some kinda crisis, to which he pointed out what exactly it was—and long story short: it turned out I like most individuals.”

“I never really thought I had interests in men or male-aligning people—up until my 20s. It was there I realized two things after talking with Buwan for a long while. One was that I like men, and two was that I especially like men like Buwan. I can almost remember when my heart fluttered the first time he looked at me and reciprocated my truth. I never felt more happier in any other relationship back then. Being with a man as wonderful like him…”

For a second, Tanggol reminisces about those old days—a part of him wondering how the old shaman was doing now back home.

“And you may be wondering—what could have possibly ended a relationship as wonderful as I said it would be? Simple actually.” Sighing, Tanggol gives a little sadden smile and begins to strum his lute again, playing a vague tune.

“I may have rushed into things far too quickly than he could take. A part of me then regrets for forcing and rushing him into things like marriage and the ideas of living our future together…only to then to come to the conclusion that I was not ready for that, nor did he want that.” Plucking at the thinnest cord, the lute made a short, yet shrilling noise. Tanggol winces at the sound.

“Looking back now, I was probably way over my head in-love to even realize that we should have at least talked over all that kinda stuff before even any sort of matrimony, you know? At least now, I learned to not rush all those kind of things and to never overlook them.” Tanggol hums, giving a more resolving beam.

“And then came along my longest relationship: my wife—or rather, my former-wife.”

There’s a stirring pause to the little tune and Tanggol sits there—with his lute in his hands and a distant stare in his soft gaze as his face falls. For a minute, just for a minute, he can not only recollect, but just reach out—reach out and brush his now callous hands over the fond memories of what was. And what could have been. Of him back home, in the damp jungles of the center of Natuyuta again. The sound of birds screeching their acapellas and insects playing their songs of love and life. Greenery everywhere. Back to his little home where he can feel the earth turn and twirl around him like a dance, where a gentle and melodic voice sings a tune and awaits for him at home. Back to tender greetings, peppering kisses, and asks about his day. Back to the sway of her tube green skirt and silky barong against him when he embraced her with all his heart. Back to her bear strength and how she was able to return the affection—even if it almost choked him. Back to her smile, her laugh, her strong and passionate eyes. Back to her.

“…What were we talking about again?”

Level of intrusiveness: 6

“OH ARAW—ugh um…you see,” Tanggol snickers awkwardly while picking at the helm of his robes, “majority of my childhood up to my late teens is filled with…alot of embarrassing things. And half of them I blame on my old brother.” He huffs with a twitching grin—now slightly wishing he got proper payback .

“Though, in this instance, I guess you can say it was really one me.” Tanggol laughs, flushing now the more he can remember.

“Back when I was a kid, I asked my mom why pineapples had those weird little eye-like textures and she then proceeds to me a story about a girl who constantly asks her mom for the whereabouts for small things—like where her hairbrush was and so on. And when her mother had enough, she told her daughter “If you want to know where your things are so badly, grow some eyes for once!”. And um, long story short: when the mother went to look for her daughter, she ended up finding a yellow spikey fruit with a bunch of staring and blinking eyes at her.”

“So, YEAH that’s how she got pineapples.” Tanggol shrugs with a trying beam. “Sounds horrifying but that’s part of the point.”

“My mom told me this partially for fun and partially so that my siblings and I could learn to be more observant of my surroundings. And this scared me a bit as a kid.” The airbender gestures to himself, expressing the genuine fear he had as a child. “And…what solidified this fear is when one day, I was coming back from herding the carabao and I overheard my brothers getting scolded at by our mom. I kinda forget what it was about, but either way, I thought nothing of at the time. That was until night rolled around and it was time for dinner.”

“When I came back inside, it was just my sister and my mom prepping for dinner but I didn’t see my brothers anyway. I think I asked my sister where they were and she said something like, “oh they’re probably be here eventually” and so I just leaved it be.”

“Until mom took out two pineapples and began chopping them up. And—my ARAW—I have never been more sickened and horrified in my life. I thought my brothers turned into pineapples. Freaking PINEAPPLES. And I just started sobbing at the table.”

“And, oh spirits,” Tanggol facepalms, shaking his head, “while I cried to my mom about this, my brothers eventually joined us.”

“Turns out they had to do extra chores around the barn up until night time rolled around.” Tanggol chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “Thinking back at it now, I was only 12 at the time. But still, it’s kinda funny now that I think about it.”

#atla #oc: tanggol #asks #the pineapple story is based off an actual myth my mom told me XD FHDKDB

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Hi. This is not a request, just a thought, that i want to share. Feel free to ignore me, everything is fine. In fact, i really love your stories, you're incredibly good at it. Love you, thank you.

And so. Y/n is an unremarkable girl, not very rich, not very popular, not very noble, not the most beautiful, not the kindest. In short, you are not like all those princesses from fairy tales, beautiful and airy. You, it's just you. And you have one huge problem. A prince with long silver hair and one eye. He is very demanding and capricious. If you even breathe in the direction, where he is not, Aemond starts to get mad. Neither his parents, nor yours can do anything about his behavior. You always thought he was calm and balanced, but apparently, Aemond is no better, than Aegon or Daemon, as far as you can tell. You even think, that your stalker is the worst of all his relatives. His mother, almost tearfully begged your mother and you to live in their house, because her son is already driving everyone crazy. He is extremely demanding of your attention and presence. You can't even, excuse him, wash yourself by youself. You would never believe, that a man like him, who is admired by a large number of ladies, can throw such tantrums and scandals. But you are a witness to all this. And you personally calm him down. But your patience is coming to an end.

On his next tantrum of jealousy, you give him a ringing slap in the face. And judging by his eye, after he recovered from the shock, he liked it. As a result, the jealous, overprotective and predatory prince turns into a blushing jelly in your hands. He still demands attention and love, but now with the words: "please. Please, my lady, please, my love, i'm yours, please, my queen, please, i need your love, i need your touch, please" and "thank you, my love", and other sweet phrases. In public, he still hisses and growls at everyone, roughly grabs and drags you along, does not leave you for a second, everywhere and always follows you. But alone, he still follows you always and everywhere, he still does not leave you for a second, he still demands your attention, but now he begs for it, and the stronger, the rougher your attention and love for him, and the more lasting traces your attention leaves on his body, the happier he is.

In fact, you don't have to really love him, but if you carve your name on his chest or anywhere else, he will believe, that you love him and will continue to live in his sweet illusion. He always believed, that you loved him as much as he loved you, he always believed, that your union was created by the gods. And genuinely didn't understand, why you were resisting. Perhaps, he thought, that's how you play with him or testing him. But now, when your hands are closed around his neck, and your feminine warmth is wrapped around his manhood, he is pleased. In his strange head, the more you hurt him, the stronger your love for him, and he will piously believe in it. And no one will ever be able to convince him of this. If they try to take you away from him, he will be furious, if you ignore him, he will cry and beg you, he will even hurt himself, if you look at him, he will hurt anyone just to hear your voice.

The closer you are to Aemond, the tighter you hold his hand, the longer your beautiful eyes look at him with tenderness, the calmer he is. Even if you cry at night from despair, he will not understand, that he is the cause of your tears. He will comfort you, gently hug you, whisper sweet words of love and promises, that everything will be fine, that you will always be together, that he will make you happy, that he will protect you, that he love you. He will give you everything you want, he will make love to you as much as you want, and the way you want. He will do anything for you, just please, tell him, that you love him, tell him, that he is your king. Only him, only yours.

Hi oh my god! I just read this thing entirely and I'm?? I honestly have no words and I literally love it so much! I'm glad you shared this with me, I do not mind things like this dw!! I love to read stuff like this, like y'alls hcs, small fics 💘

THIS WAS ALSO SO BEAUTIFUL TO READ, IDK IF YOU WRITE BUT YOU DEFINITELY SHOULD 💞💞💞

#asks #anon asks

[lianewark]

1. The friends you have at the beginning of the year can completely change by the end of it. People change, and if they aren’t improving your life in some way, it’s okay to drop them.

2. Take many pictures. Don’t let it take over your life, though. You don’t want to look back and see that you only captured your memories with your camera lens and not within your mind and heart.

3. Find your safe place. Whether it be in the arms of a certain person or on the balcony of Barnes and Nobles with a cup of soup, find it and don’t let it go. You can have more than one safe place.

4. Be nice to everyone. You honestly don’t know what skeletons people are hiding in their closets. Everyone has their skeleton. Every person on this earth has something in their life or past worth collapsing on the ground in uncontrollable sobs over.

5. Reading is so important. Highlight the things that you read that you find intriguing. Read a lot, it can only do good things for you.

6. Writing always helps.

7. The girl with anxiety has the deepest thoughts. The autistic boy has the kindest heart, and the schizophrenic has the ability to put a smile on your face in seconds. Do not judge character based on a mental illness.

8. Music has an indescribable ability to connect and heal. Let it do its thing.

9. Her prettiness doesn’t make your prettiness any less pretty.

10. Getting close and letting someone in is scary as hell. You know what else it is? Worth it.

11. The minute you feel your happiness being dictated by someone else, take a break from them.

12. Adventuring is a must. Sunsets always help the soul, showing that endings can be as beautiful as beginnings.

13. Spend more time with your parents doing things they enjoy. Later in life, you’ll be wishing you’d spent more time with them than on your Netflix account.

14. Home is not always a place, but whatever you love with your whole heart. I have many homes, and it’s okay if one home doesn’t feel like home anymore.

15. Making someone smile and feel genuinely happy has the ability to warm your heart from the inside out. No matter how much pain someone is going through, you made them forget about it for a few seconds. Isn’t that something?

16. Feel everything and let it hurt, but don’t go back to what broke you.

17. Don’t let fear hold you back from what you want. The view from the other side is spectacular.

18. Tell people how you feel. Even if you’re scared it’ll burn your life to the ground. You say it loud.

19. You find the most extraordinary things in the most ordinary places.

20. Swollen lips and sweaty “I want you’s” can make you feel again, but I don’t want to feel anything if it means having to sit there feeling like the wind is constantly being knocked out of me when he stops calling back.

21. Sometimes the way you think of someone isn’t the way they actually are.

22. Never underestimate the amount of joy the holiday season can bring you. Try and find ways to feel that way all year long.

23. Timing is never going to be perfect; if you care about something enough, you’ll make the time. It’s all about priorities.

24. If women used their words to build each other up instead of tearing each other down, our world would change drastically.

25. Recovery can take 2 weeks or 5 years. You aren’t any less of a person if it takes you longer to find a way to let go of what’s hurting your heart.

26. You only need yourself, but having people by your side trying to understand means a lot more than you might think.

27. You find your truest friends in your darkest hours.

28. You can feel the whole world in a month and nothing after 2 years. Time does not define love.

29. Always say yes to dessert.

30. Concerts make life worth living. So does yelling your favorite song along with your best friend in the car with your best friend with hands intertwined. These are things that show you that you don’t need to be on drugs to feel invincible.

31. So does kissing.

”

— emmuuhhhhh, 31 Things I’ve Learned Coming Into 2016

#life #tips #about living #love #home #music #feelings

[misselko]

LIONESS

Warnings: Angst, fluff, small violence

Words: 20.130

 

“Begin.”

Loud clashing of lances can be heard through Garreg Mach hallway.

The red-haired skirt chaser barely able to hear you said it when you rushed him. Sylvain knew that he should focus on his strikes.  He didn’t have time to be impressed at this small, petite girl that is jabbing her lance so fast against him. Devastatingly fast. And strikingly strong. ‘It is such a wonder how a small, petite body like hers held so much power’. That’s the last thing that passed his mind before (Y/N)’s lance has cracked so loudly against his that he thought it might snap. Beautiful, fierce, deadly (E/C) orbs that staring into his soul has captivated the Gautier heir and got him hard knock on his shin, felling him over.

“Whoa there! I yield. You do like it rough, don’t you, (Y/N)?” Sylvain raise his hands on the air with and winks seductively. Rolling your eyes, you put a light tap on his neck at his remarks.

“Though she be but little, she is fierce. (Y/N) is the youngest among us, but she is indeed a Lioness!” Dimitri claps over your third in a row winning for today. You beat Felix in sword and Dimitri in the lance spar.

“That’s what you get for skipping classes, Sylvain. And.. keep up with your solid techniques, excellent moves, and rapid quick footwork, (Y/N). That’s all for our combat class today,” said Professor.

“She’s a few inch shorter than me but she had effortlessly defeated Blue Lions’ strongest lancer and swordsman! That’s my favourite lil sis (Y/N) for you!! ” said Annette giddily. She hugs you in a death grip embrace and sings her silly song.

Everyone are so nice to you, to the point of spoiled rotten! Especially Ingrid and Mercie! They are like your big sisters, always offering their help to ride pegasi and give endless supplies of baked sweets that you love very much. Felix is kinda harsh and always eager to spar with you, but he’s the first person to get angry when someone bullies you because you are so small. So kind, almost feel like a big brother! Dimitri helps you with your late night studies and picking books in the higher shelves on the library a lot. Dedue and Ashe cook dinner together with you on your duty day.

They see (Y/N) as the sweet smol bean that has to be protected at all cost!

“Are you free tonight, Munchkin?” Care to join me to visit the town and get something to eat? I know this little restaurant that has nice dessert! My treat, of course! Think of it as a token of congratulations from me on your brilliance today!” Sylvain put his hand on your shoulder in a friendly gesture and wink seductively.

“Seteth will scold us for sure, Syl! This is the fourth or fifth time we went for a late dinner this week,” you pout at his invitation. “He won’t. I’ll walk you back before curfew as usual. Don’t want my Kitten to get  hurt on her way back. Night walk can be dangerous, you know.”

“Why you are being so nice to me, Syl... Your girls will be upset and kill me for sure.”

“Nah.. I don’t have any! It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful evening alone. Besides, I don’t want to let my Munchkin starved in her sleep! Not to mention that you just looked awfully cute with your cheeks stuffed.” You smacked his shin and rewarded with a loud yelp from him.  “Lead the way. And.. it’s not like I like it or something like that, you know! Don’t get any wrong ideas,” you hide your blush and took his huge hand in your tiny ones.

The food was delightful as usual and Sylvain stay true to his words about going back before the curfew.

As you both closed the large door’s that marked the dormitory, you were greeted by the crisp spring night. Warm wind passed over your forms, and crickets chirped in the night.

“While we’re at it, how about a little board games rematch at my quarters? I got a new strategy to show you, Syl!”

“Bring it on then, (Y/N)! Let’s bring some sweet buns as usual to snack on later as well, then.”

“It’s a deal!”

“I’d think playing it on the bed would be more comfortable than doing it on the floor. You might catch another cold and passed out like last month in my room. It scared the living daylights out of me! Nope, never trying that again.”

“It’s not fun being frail and get sick easily.” You sigh.

“No problem. Think of it as a good chance for me to get to carry you around in my arms. For our weddi-- Ouch!!” he faux a sad face melodramatically when you punch his hand away playfully. “You might be small and petite but these hands are a force to be reckoned with. You’re as strong as a lioness,” said the philanderer as he ruffled your hair affectionately.

 

It was such a beautiful night.

---

“Do you have a moment, Miss (Y/N)? I have something important to tell you regarding my research and your Crest. We can discuss it in more detailed manner in my research room,” Professor Hanneman ask you out of the blue after the afternoon battle strategy class.

 

“Crest? But I’m sure I don’t have any, Professor! It’s stated as clear as a day in my enrollment documents, isn’t it?”

 

“There’s a mistake, Miss (Y/N). And I sworn it on my name as the Father of Crestology, you do HAVE a Crest. A Major one at that! Congratulations! I have sent a letter to your family and inform other Professors and your House Leader regarding this matter. I have my suspicion about your Crests since I watch your  prowess at combat and when it activates, the timing, and the flash of....”

 

You are a bit shocked about this and decided to ignore this fact, having a hard time to process this shocking information. Your family and other members of Blue Lions will be very surprised of this information. Is it going to be a good thing or not? Professor Hanneman’s murmurs fell on your deaf ears as you politely excuse yourself out of his room. ‘It’ll be better to keep this as a secret to avoid unwanted attention nor unnecessary commotion’ you think to yourself.

---

Moons have passed. Then the night of the ball came. Urged by your curiosity, you are eager to wait for your true love at the Goddess Tower. You were hardly expecting to see Sylvain, of all people. The surprise at seeing each other was mutual. The both of you stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the scene before you. You wrapped your arms around yourself to stave off the chill that went down your spine, shuffling closer to the older man.

 

“Do you even believe the rumors about this place?” he asked as he lay his uniform coat over your shivering form. “My curiosity gets the best of me. But am glad to find you here, Syl.”

 

“Huh.” Sylvain went quiet, his face etched with contemplation. After he thought about it a little, he let out a huff of breath and frowned.

 

“Well, the person I’m interested in... is already here. You’re here alone. I’m here alone. I was thinking maybe....”

“Wait. Me?”

“Well, of course! We’re the only two people here, aren’t we? I keep thinking about it, and it just makes sense. My Crest and yours...”

“How did you...?”

“Dimitri told me. I have confirmed it with Professor Hanneman as well. A Major one, he said. So lucky.”

He looked down at you menacingly. Your eyes were averted away from his, looking away into the distance. “What do you mean? I’m still me, Syl.  Crest or no Crest.”

Despite your dismissive answer, something changed in his expression. He took his hands from behind his neck and stalked towards you. This wasn’t at all like the kind and flirty Sylvain you loved. He’s... different.

“You know what? I’m a bit jealous. The whole time you were growing up, you never knew you had a Crest. You were free. Nobody pretended to like you. I kind of hate you for that...” he slammed you hard against the wall behind you. Strangled pained noise came from you.

His knees rest on either side of your petite body and his arms cage your head, his much bigger hand grasp yours roughly. “All you’re worth to me is a little bit of fun. We’ve been having fun, haven’t we? I thought that you understood,” Sylvain’s face a mere inch from yours, glaring daggers at you. You can feel your tears begin welling, threatening to spill at his words.

 

“Is that really what you think of me? I thought... I was different. So… our friendship has just been for nothing?” you muttered quietly, holding back your sobs.

 

He scoffed. “Of course you are. You’re just some dumb noble looking for crest babies. You never meant anything to me.” His rejection was validation of your worst fear, that you were just like every other girl. Your friendship had all fallen apart and meant nothing for him.

 

“Playing around with girls is the most fun a guy can have. Besides, I don’t care what you think of me. I don’t intend to change how I live my life. I’m a good-for-nothing, if you haven’t noticed, but I’m still a noble with a Crest. That’s all anyone cares about. It’s best to avoid getting too serious with fools like me.” His expression darkens and unreadable. The carefree mask was long gone.

 

“My Crest bring me nothing but pain. I thought maybe...if I made someone else suffer, it might help me feel better.” His hand shot up and grabbed you by your throat. Sylvain held you in front of him, tightened his grip, choking you hard. His caramel eyes glowed dark with excitement.

 

“Unnnghhh......Syl....”

You tried to squirm away but he clamped his hand tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. Your legs felt weak and limp. The pain was too intense.

 

“You were a spoiled brat who should pay for that Crest. Maybe I’ll collect the debt.” His expression dark as he looked up at you.

 

Focusing yourself, you punch his jaw as hard as you can. To your surprise, a blinding flash of your Crest shows up when you smack him as hard as you can, making Sylvain flinch in pain, dropping you with a loud thud on the cold floor. You stumbled back and dropped to your knees. Gasping for air, you tried to rub the pain from your throat, doing your best to pick yourself up.

 

“Sylvain Jose Gautier!  I care not for your Crest nor title! It means nothing to me. I like.. no, love you because you are the strongest, kindest, funniest, and the most caring person that I know. Even you are such a skirt chaser, but you always very considerate and protective of me. I never felt this way before about someone. This is my first time but... This… This was a mistake. Sorry. I hope.. you find your own happiness someday,” you said, your voice is raspy from his deadly grip and your sadness. Tears were finally flowing freely from you.

 

Sylvain’s posture becoming rigid despite his feigned relaxed position. “H-hey,” Sylvain said, his voice softened somewhat. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry...”, he tried to pat your head, but you step back instinctively. The red head flinch and turned away when he saw angry purplish hue on your neck. Guilt began creeping on his conscience.

 

“I believe you. You’re not a bad person, Sylvain, no matter what anyone says. I care about you. Our friendship, dinners, late nights walk and banters... I cherished them a lot. Really, I do. I love you, Sylvain.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t look at anything besides the floor. “That’s what I came to tell you, but... nevermind. Good night, Syl. I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

 

“Did you mean that? (Y/N), wait!” He spoke with disbelief.

“Why would I lie?” you asked, hardly audible. “Goodbye, Syl.”

 

His pleas fell on deaf ears as you dash yourself as fast as possible from Goddess Tower, locking yourself inside your quarters, clutching to Sylvain’s uniform coat, while crying yourself to sleep.

---

That’s the last thing that you can remember from your Academy Days. Things were never the same since that night. You never talk to the playboy ever again since that incident. No more night walks or late board games. When you have to work together in weekly duty, there’s an unseen awkward distance and heavy tension between you two.

 

The notorious philanderer went back into his old ways, going around with a different girl each day. You often catch him glimpse at you with eyes full of remorse and sadness (mostly when he thinks you aren’t looking or noticing). Everyone in the Blue Lions noticed the changes between your relationship but being very considerate of your feelings and trying to not mention anything about it.

 

Your Father called you back home because of his grave illness in Pegasus Moon, insisting you to leave the Officers Academy behind. Blue Lions was taken aback and sad with your abrupt leave. Going back to your home in Fhirdiad, days flies in a blur motion into moons and years.

---

It’s been 5 years since you left your Academy days in Garreg Mach.

A bloody coup led by Cornelia causes Duke Rufus and Dimitri both to be apparently killed. Her  tyranny left Fhirdiad in poor state with poverty and famine. Holy Kingdom of Faerghus thrown into disarray condition with their Prince’s disappearance. The nation is plagued by civil strife and hardship.

 

With the vast majority of the former Kingdom lords having bent the knee to the overwhelming power of the Empire, all Blaiddyd territory, including the Kingdom capital, is ruled by those who are cooperating with the Empire, and is thus renamed the Faerghus Dukedom. Houses Fraldarius and Gautier were left to spearhead the resistance as the primary opponents of the Dukedom.

 

As the legitimate Marchioness of your major noble house in Blaiddyd territory after her Father’s passing, (Y/N) decided to keep on fighting against Empire until the bitter end, along with Houses of Fraldarius, Gautier, and Galatea. You keep maintain close relationships them, mostly with the neighbouring Houses, Fraldarius and Galatea. Whether it may be reinforcements soldiers to House Fraldarius or stock supplies to House Galatea, you are so much eager to give it all (sometimes by going there personally—much to your advisors’ dismay) to aid them.  Being always giving or adding the most relevant information about current war state developments made you overjoyed when you heard about the news of Dimitri’s plan to recapture Fhirdiad.

---

It’s been forever since your last time fighting on the battlefield. Reclaiming the capital is a daunting task with shortage of soldiers and resources. Rodrigue’s death is a devastating blow to Faerghus’ military strength and resources. Not to mention that House Gautier and Galatea has any resources to spare. With limited resource of your own House, you decided to prioritize evacuation of Faerghus’ citizens and helping Blue Lions to the utmost.

 

Dimitri marches for Fhirdiad, causing the oppressed citizens to revolt against Cornelia’s tyranny People are rebelling against Cornelia and Fhirdiad has turned into a gruesome battlefield. Fire was everywhere The sound of metals echoed loudly in your ears. Large Titanus crowded the streets and wreaking havoc upon buildings and citizens. With your sword in your hands, you leap and cut through Kingdom Soldiers that is preparing to activate Viskam turrets against Felix.

 

You pushed forward with great caution. When you are done helping a pair of elders and children under the rubbles to evacuate, you saw him. Sylvain. Fighting over a mage and a large Titanus all by himself. Did he get separated? He barely dodged a fireball when you strike down that mage.

 

“Munchki--!” He gasped, surprised to see you back.

“Watch out, Syl!”

You leap in front of him, parrying and slash back at the Titanus’ large appendages that is going to smash him. Sylvain cast a Ragnarok and taking down the golem-like creature with a loud explosion, sending flying debris everywhere. He gasped, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the way. 

 

“Ugh... that hurts. Are you okay, Munchkin?” He was trapped under the rubbles and the first thing that he asked is your safety?

“W-why did you do that, Syl? You got hurt protecting me. Didn’t you want to kill me?”, you said as you helped him out from the rubble.  Fortunately he is okay aside from a few scratch and bruises.

 

“When I thought you were going to be killed for real, my reflexes kicked in. I reacted without thinking. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being jealous of you. But, come on, I can’t help looking up to you.” He look at you with eyes full of worry and sadness.

 

“Sylvain..... Well.. It’s been awhile, but as much as I want to chat with you, we have to help Professor and Dimitri first. Cornelia has brought us so many sufferings. Now’s the time to put an end to all of this. And... thank you, Syl.” He nods and push forward to throw his lance at a Pegasus Knight that is fighting against Ingrid.

 

“I will go to deactivate Titanus’ lever. I know its location and it will help everyone tremendously against that gigantic monster! I’ll open Fhirdiad’s secret passages within my House territory to help everyone to get better access to Cornelia. When I’m done with it, I’ll regroup with reinforcement soldiers from my House to evacuate more citizens on the east side of Royal Capital, then go to help Dimitri fighting against Cornelia. See you later, Syl. Please stay safe.” You bid your farewell and run through smaller alley path, doing your missions, leaving Sylvain astonished at your very thorough, detailed plans.

 

Without the Titanus, Cornelia only has archers as her backups. As you take the archers down with Felix and Annette, Professor and Dimitri are working together to close in on her and take her down. It was a gruesome battle, but thanks to everyone’s efforts, casualties were kept to minimum and reclaiming Fhirdiad is a big success after Cornelia has been defeated.

---

It may be spring, but the nights are quite chilly here in Fhirdiad. The people are rejoicing at the return of their King. After a hard won battle of reclaiming Royal Capital of Fhirdiad, celebratory feast shows no sign of stopping. Growing weary of the festivities, you decided to excuse yourself from the banquet at the castle balcony.

“Munchkin. Here you are. His Highness has been looking for you. He wanted to express his gratitude for your loyalty and huge help at reclaiming Fhirdiad.”

“Good evening, Syl. We just did our utmost to help. Fhirdiad’s  peace and safety of the Blue Lions is of the most important thing for me, after all.”

A moment of silence passed where both of you stayed still, just basking in the moonlight and enjoying each others’ presence for a while.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” You are taken aback when Sylvain bows his head deeply in front of you.

“I know I messed up really bad and it’s fair enough if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me. My jealousy got the best of me and it has brought you so much harm. Most girls just want me for my title or my Crest, and when I thought that it was the same for you, I… I was the one who made a mistake. I’m sorry, truly I am.” Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you could see the furrow of Sylvain’s brows, the frowning twist of his lips. It was a look you’d never seen on him. Regret and pain. He looks so vulnerable. Somehow, you didn’t doubt the apology.

“Please elaborate, Syl.”

“Since I bear a Crest, my parents made sure I was never left wanting. My older brother didn’t have one, and so when I was born, he was pushed aside. My mere existence stole everything from him. There’s so many people that want to get close to me because of my crest. Because of something I didn’t even want to be born with. I wish I could have cared as little about my Crest as you do yours...,” he grimaces, running a hand through his hair briskly. “Women smile at me for the same reason my parents adored me...and my brother wanted me dead. And I have to meet them all with a smile because I have a Crest.” Sylvain purses his lips.

 

“But you–you’ve never treated me differently. Always being there for me and understand me, and…and–I like you, (Y/N). No. I love you so much that it scared me. A lot,” he says, closing his eyes.

 

“You say that, but it doesn’t excuse the things you’ve done.” You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to let him see mixed expression you were making at  his sudden confession but you knew he was looking at you. Intently.

 

“I was devastated when you left Garreg Mach years ago. I lost you once and I won’t let it happen again. So.... what I’m saying is…” he hesitated and briefly appeared at a loss of words which is very unlike of him.

He hugs you closer very tightly it hurts, cradling you gently against his chest. This close, you can feel the rapid pace of his heart and his nervousness. “Can you give me a second chance?” Sylvain’s touch was awkward and clumsy.

“......I will. But first… Please let me go, Syl. You are crushing me.”

Sylvain paused, as if unsure. “Did you mean that?” Vulnerability colored his tone, softened it. “I’d like to be a man who deserves that. Who deserves you. Even if you want nothing to do with me, one day I will find a way to make it up to you, to earn your forgiveness. I promise.” His voice wasn’t strong with his infamous flirtatious bravado. It was sincere.

 

“You’re so much more than just your Crest or your status, Sylvain Jose Gautier.” Taking his much bigger hand in your tiny ones, you smiled and whisper it against his hand. “You are the most amazing, kind, strongest, and nice man for me. Your path is your own.  I love you just the way you are, Sylvain. Crest or no Crest.” His face turned dark red instantly redder than his hair at your words. Sylvain.exe has stopped working

“You are going to be the death of me, Munchkin!!” Sylvain yells frantically. You can see his ears flushed furious red. He can die happy now. Goddess Sothis please take his soul.

“Why you still call me Munchkin, Syl?” you asked much to your curiousity. “It’s been years but you barely grow a few inch! But y-Ouch!! He yelps when you jab at his stomach. “But you have... grown into a fine, smart, and beautiful woman.”

 

“Time hasn’t been so kind to me in these past years, Syl. After my Father’s passing, I have to succeed him. Being a Marchioness isn’t an easy task but I learned so much and am still learning.”

 

“My sincerest condolences for your loss. But... he must be very proud of you, Munchkin. You will be a great Marchioness. Strong, thorough, quick-witted, and lovely as a—”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Gautier.” You rolled your eyes at him. The redhead laughs softly and embrace you in his arms.

 

“When this war is over, will you come with me to my homeland? It’s time for the first step in the right direction. I don’t want to marry a girl who wants to use me for my Crest or a girl who someone else chose for me. I want to marry someone I really care about. With you by my side, I’m excited to find out what this new way of life is all about. (Y/N), I’m serious. Marry me. I’d do anything for you. I’m done lying, especially to myself. I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together trying to make you happy. I promise.”

 

 “I’d like to.... introduce you to my parents. They’d love to have a new Gauti—Gyaahh!!!” He shrieked when you stomped your feet on him. “I’m so DONE with you, Syl!!” you said with exasperated look, looking away trying to hide the rising heat in your cheeks. ‘A future with Sylvain...’

 

There’s a pause when you catch his gaze and find something vulnerable there, something familiar. The flicker of hope, mirrored in your expression. It’s as if everything falls into place and clicks. Then his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant, so unlike his usual self. Your eyes fluttered shut, your lips moulding against his, as his hand came up to cup your cheek. It was all the confession you needed.

 

“I will, Syl. I promise.”

---

Bonus:

When Professor and the Blue Lions heard about your new relationship with Sylvain, they offer you heartfelt congratulations and throw a little dinner party. Dimitri is OVERJOYED and sobs a little when he saw you are radiating with so much happiness. Back then in your Academy days, he was the one who worry about you the most when Sylvain treated you poorly, after all. Ashe and Dedue throw a lavish dinner to celebrate (Y/N) and Sylvain’s relationship that evening. Mercedes and Annette provide everyone with tasty sweets and dessert. It was a heartwarming small party among Blue Lions members.

Sadly, Sylvain didn’t get to celebrate it together. Rumors had it that Felix and Ingrid has beaten him to a bloody pulp (with Professor’s EXCLUSIVE permission) because he made you their lovely sweet lil sis wept and hurt. Sylvain kept on mumbling something between “Don’t ever hitting another girl”, “RUIN his Lance of Ruin”, “Don’t ever taint her”, or “You’re finished”. Even the kind and benevolent Mercie turned her back and refuse to heal Sylvain. The Gautier heir almost went to hell that evening.

 

The poor, traumatized philanderer will changing his ways for the better for sure.

#fe sylvain #sylvain angst #sylvain x reader #fe3h x reader #fe3h fluff #sylvain fluff #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #angst #fluff #romance

[wolfish-trickster]

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

*

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

*

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

*

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki angst #loki x female reader #loki x reader angst #my writer's block is finally gone and I can write again! #wohooo! #loki oninson #loki laufejarson #loki

[ehlnofay]

A list of my beloved characters, with art and descriptions, all compiled into one space for your convenience! Should you have any questions or comments about them, feel free to say them; I LOVE talking about these little guys.

(body of post under the cut because it would be very long otherwise)

Arabella: Bosmer, 30, she/her Arabella is a delight to be around, as long as you hang out with her for a few hours and then never see her again. She is very difficult to be around otherwise. Originally from the city of Falinesti in Valenwood, she spent the last decade or so of her life travelling, and after trying and failing to settle in at the College of Winterhold she threw her lot in with the Thieves’ Guild and never (or at least rarely) looked back. She isn’t a good person by any means, but she is endearing or at least entertaining, and for most of her friends and acquaintances that appears to be enough. (you can read my Arabella-centric writing here!)

Torr: Nord, 14-16, he/they The poorest and littlest of meow meows. Was at one point my nicest and perhaps even my kindest character – rather ironic, considering. Grew up in Windhelm as the Quintessential Fantasy Street Urchin until a series of interesting choices led to his recruitment into the Dark Brotherhood, and it’s all downhill from there. Someone who feels deeply and cares deeply, for better and for worse. (you can read my Torr-centric writing here!)

Caelestis Vitellius: Dunmer/Imperial, early twenties, ze/zirs Caelestis Vitellius: Nerevarine, heretic, spy. Belonging to uncertain origins and in possession of an uncertain future, Caelestis is on some level a stranger to all – including, and perhaps most of all, to zirself. Ze started as an eccentric, sheltered rich kid thrust into sudden dire circumstances, and while a lot has changed, the perplexities of navigating a world of ancient prophecy and theocratic politics has not. Ze may never truly know who ze is and whether ze can claim the name ze was given – but at least, at last, ze has learned how to cook rice. (you can read my Caelestis-centric writing here!)

Efri (technically, Oldis): Nord, 10, she/her Efri is a lively goatherd whose philosophical outlook is that when life gives you lemons, you take longer walks. That outlook is beginning to wear, though, and now that her brother Onmund is gone (no-one will say where he’s gone – do they think she’s too stupid to figure it out? She knows where) she’s getting more restless than ever. Something has to change. (Efri is one of my newest characters, and her story is in very early stages. I still had to include her though, because I love her.) (you can read my Efri-centric writing here!)

the Dragonborn / Thane / Alixandra / Dova (technically, N/A): Human-ish, ???, she/her but not in a girl way A work in progress, both narratively and just as a person. Before Helgen, the Dragonborn was nothing and no-one, and the process of learning to be something and someone takes time. Small, powerful and staggeringly odd, her eclectic skill set includes an aptitude for combat and eerie but expected proficiency in the Thu’um, and notably excludes skills like executive functioning and engaging in conversation. She’s working on it, though. She’s trying. Isn’t that the important thing? (Also in early stages. My first character, who I am currently in the process of majorly reworking because the first iteration was conceptually flawed. I’m having fun with it!) (you can read my Dragonborn-centric writing here!)

Pax: Nibenese Imperial, 15, he/she/they  A solitary thief turned celebrated hero. Tough, wily and abrasive, Pax was thrust into an adventure straight out of the epics and was all too ready to take on the role it demanded and the responsibilities that came with it. Delving the depths of Oblivion and making plans with a new and politically important friend, they feel more themself than they ever have - but heroes’ stories rarely end well, and sometimes, the only thing worse than making the noble choice is being the one left behind in the aftermath. (you can read my Pax-centric writing here!)

#my foolish little children. I love them dearly #the elder scrolls #tesblr #oc tag #skyrim #morrowind #tes

[mihrsuri]

Some of the things I know about the monarchs/spouses of monarchs of my Tudors OT3 universe (A note: I wrote this whole thing as essentially my own wish fulfilment fantasy for the kindest possible world as a biracial jewish woman - I wanted to write the world in which a poly bi triad family in which one of the dads is a commoner changes the world for the better so while I have thought about how it could have actually worked realistically it’s also self indulgent as hell). 

Also if you want to have headcanons or explore any of them please please feel free I will happily answer questions about them if I possibly can. 

Thomas I & Mihrimah Sultan (1556/70-1590/1616): Thomas is a cinnamon roll deliberately. He is, if you know Star Trek Discovery very much Anson Mounts Christopher Pike. Compassionate, kind, wise, gentle and extremely sensible. Fantastic at policy. Adores dogs. Honestly and genuinely I describe his sexuality as Mihrimah because he met her and went ‘…that’s my person the end’ and that was that as far as attraction. He is also the one who went ‘I am giving back all the things to Wales, Scotland and Ireland, getting the English out, paying money from my own funds as compensation and actually saying sorry and I will charm my nobles so they are delighted to do this’ so you know. He and his wife together did a major infrastructure program (roads, clean water, sewers, houses, public good buildings), genuine religious pluralism, universal healthcare and public education and an early form of UBI (some of this were actually things that were proposed by his dad in actual history so). Also greater democracy. And the public education was universal. Mihrimah in particularly funded schools for girls and women, proposed a great deal of legislation, dealt with court politics and was deeply deeply protective of her husband as he was of her. She also funded public gardens and bathhouses and [spoilers]. 

Turhan (Thomas II) & Joan I (1590/1616-1626): Turhan is extremely practical and pragmatic and also very much takes after his maternal grandfather in looks. Joan is the daughter of Mary Queen of Scots and Francis II and may have had kind of a dramatic childhood so she really does love that in Turhan she finds a very happy loving family life. He supports her as a consort in Scotland very easily - I’d say Joan is the warrior and Turhan is the politician and diplomat. Their oldest daughter Maryam became Mary I of Scotland. 

Tomas (Thomas III) & Jahanara Begum (1626-1630) but he and his wife were co-ruling very much before that and basically took over in England because his father was supporting his mother in Scotland from when he came of age. 

Jahan (Arthur II) & Eleni Maryam (1630-1649 but they co-ruled with Jahan’s parents and grandparents before that): Jahan is the most devoted dad in the universe. After he was executed they found that he had sewn strips from his children’s first clothes into his shirt as well as a ring with a lock of both their hair and his wives. He was deposed and executed due to the English Civil War aka The Restoration Rising in which Hugh Wakefield rose up with a group of nobles and merchants over the fact that (a) Jahan had proclaimed his daughter Askala would be his heir regardless of any sons born (b) the expansion of already very robust anti colonialist/empire laws and the jailing of human rights abusers who Tried It as well as the specific jailing of Hugh’s dad (c) the fact that Jahan very firmly and finally uncoupled from being the Head of the Church a process that had already happened with Thomas I but seeing it formalised Did Things and (d) a desire to return to The True Way Of things. The restoration lasted from 1649-1657 and ended with Hugh’s death. Eleni is an English Rose, a beloved sweet, kind and gentle queen ala Elizabeth of York. 

Askala (Charlotte I) & Taharqa (1657-1700 but her rule is backdated to 1649): Taharqa is the sweetest most cinnamon roll of spouses - a devoted father who adores spending time with all his fifteen children, dotes on his wife, loves poetry and roses. Askala is like her mother but also absolutely razor sharp and diplomatically brilliant. I’ve said she has Charles II energy and that is absolutely true. Bisexual. Did more democracy because FUCK YOU I WILL PAY MORE TAXES AND SO WILL THE NOBILITY AND THEY WILL THANK ME ALSO HAVE MORE POWER EVERYONE. Loves the arts. 

Menelik (Henry IX) & Anu Tu (1700-1720 but co-ruled with his mother from the 1680s): Ten children

Le Thi Ngoc Han (Charlotte II) and Yunli (1720-1775): Thirteen children 

Hongli (Henry X) & Lalla Aisha (1775-1780): Five Children. They both died in of influenza along with Hongli’s mother but had co-ruled with her before that. 

Xuanye (Thomas IV) & Zafira Rivers, Lady Kent (1780-1800): These two are platonic gay and lesbian soulmates who wanted a kid together so it worked out very well - they had other partners but well, platonic soulmates and best friend marriage. Also Xuanye is gay and loves drama and Zafira holds his entire impulse control and I love that for her. 

Samira (Anne I) & Waru & Jirda (1800-1819): Samira died in childbirth but the child survived and went on to have four more siblings. Waru is an amazing artist and storyteller, Jirda is a chef and a scientist - they all adore each other deeply and Samira is also like I Am A Sap. Inherited her great great etc grandfather Henry VIII’s lack of chill. 

Djinda (Anne II) & William Lamb, Lord Melbourne (1819/1837-1901 because while she became Queen at birth she ruled in her own right from 1837): Lord Melbourne in this case = Dev Patel. They have nine children together and are very happy. 

Janisha (Anne III) & 1. Dewa Agung Jambe & 2. Elisabeth Eleanor Eleni, Duchess of Devonshire (1901-1915): Her first relationship was a common law partnership and they decided they were better as very good friends with benefits. Janisha’s second spouse Elisabeth is the gentle, graceful and beautiful queen of hearts. Daughter of both the Duke of Norfolk and the Duchess of Devonshire. My favourite black trans jewish lesbian. Devoted mother. 

Asri (Charlotte III) & 1. Rupert, Lord Churchill (died 1901) & 2. Aaron Cohan and Elizabeth Tan Su Mei (1915-1936): Asri and Rupert met and feel in love over a week when they were 17/18 - Rupert came from a restorationist family that he repeatedly told to go fuck themselves but he was still, somehow the favourite child. He married Asri and permanently disowned them, they have two boys and are so so happy but he died at the age of 25 which his family blamed Asri for. Asri did marry again (which they also yelled about) but she also loved Rupert always as well. Aaron is a cook and a sweetheart - he also refused a title and the crown as did Elizabeth, who is an actor and dancer. They had four children with Asri - triplet boys and a girl named Askala who was a very late in life surprise. 

Surawirya (Edward VI) (1936-1936) & Anthea, Lady Lake-Jones: Okay. Edward first. He came out looking like Rupert, with his mothers passion for causes but unfortunately not her braincells and also he directed it towards fascism. Probably did repent of it before the end but tbh AAAAGH. Epitome of ‘my dude they still hate you and everything you are’ Makes it worse that he actually loved his half siblings and brother tbh. Managed to commit treason and spent the rest of his life in basically house arrest exile after he and his wife fled the country for Restorationist Monaco. Technically a stepfather to three kids but they disowned him and their mother. (I will discuss Anthea in a separate post. 

Tjok Gus (Thomas V) & Zarghona Anad (1936-1952): Tjok Gus is just a very gentle shy guy who wants to be a house husband and hang out with his kids and pets. He was a very good King though - dealt with his brothers treason and attempted coup which was A Time. Zarghona would stab Anthea for zero dollars. 

Shukria (Elizabeth I) & Harald (1952-): The current monarchs. Shukria is just the sweetest great grandma in the world (she may be modelled on my own beloved Nanna) and I love her. Harald is a Prince of Norway who took one look at this beautiful Afghani-Black woman and was like My Soulmate. Has bone arid sense of humour. Soft. 

Taran (Thomas, Prince of Albion) & 1. Diana, Lady Wake-Liddel (d.1997) and 2. Husband played by Jason Momoa thank you @lemonsharks that was a delightful idea: the current Prince of Albion. He and Diana met at university because they were in the same year and are both plant and art nerds. Diana told her restorationist family to go fuck themselves (I need to do a whole separate post about that) and they had a very happy marriage. Taran met his husband when they were both middle aged and he was a widow and it was a very sweet romance novel story. Diana and Taran had three children (William, Henry and Eleanor). 

William (Duke of Cambridge) & Catherine Esther Narahari (m. 2011): They have four children as of 2022 (Edmund, Maryam, Abbas and Niloufar). Catherine is a biracial, bisexual Persian Jewish woman - a ballet dancer and early childhood teacher. She and Meghan have been best friends for a long time. 

Henry (Duke of Sussex) & Meghan Markle (m.2018): Meghan is a diplomat and also an actress. She and Catherine are best friends. Parents of three children. 

#tudors ot3 verse reference #ot3: political power trio

[genshin-impacted]

empress of the first water // Zhongli x Reader (2)

Word Count: 1.8k

Palace/Harem Imperial Drama AU: You are a princess, soon-to-be-Empress, and Zhongli is the teacher invited by the royal court to show you the ropes before you ascend to the throne after a royal tragedy.

Notes: female + Princess!Reader, Teacher!Zhongli, mutual pining, fake politics, Zhongli POV

xiansheng - Chinese honorific translated to as “person born before another,” also used as a title to refer to persons of authority or skills; generally used to mean “teacher”

[Previous] [Next]

Zhongli’s duties as the Princess’ tutor, as spoken by the head noble-- a man who seemed to always have a sneer on his face-- was to fully and completely reeducate the Princess. He understands now why his room is so close to yours considering how they have asked him to spend the majority of your day with him-- and vice versa. You seem to take this schedule in stride, listening to his lectures with an apt mind and following whatever lessons he brings throughout the day, regardless of familiarity or novelty.

But you are quiet, and as appreciative as Zhongli is at a rapt audience, he knows you have more to say than what you are giving-- but he understands. Zhongli can’t imagine not having a moment of solidarity when the presence of others can be so oppressive in the face of grief. In the middle of his afternoon lessons, he excuses himself and allows you to have a break. He knows he has decided well when you shoot him a grateful smile and when he sees you deflate the moment he closes the sliding door.

“Has she not been raised as a Princess for her whole life?” He asks the noble politely as they walk down the long outdoor hallways of the palace. He had been called to meet up with him on his way to court with the intentions to review the Princess’s progress, only it seems as though the head noble had no intentions of listening. “Surely, there is no need for me to go so extensively into that sector of education," he presses.

The noble sighs. “Mr. Zhongli, with all due respect, the girl--” Zhongli can feel his brows raise at the lack of title used-- “...has never been properly prepared for the possibility to become the Empress. She was one of the last ones in line to inherit the throne, so no one thought she could amount to anything. Surely, you’ve seen the way she acts?” The noble lifts his round silk fan to his face, and Zhongli, despite all his efforts to not feel disdain for the callous noble, feels his patience wear thin. “It was such a surprise, you see, to all of us when that tragedy hit, but alas, she’s the only one left.”

“I see,” Zhongli replies coolly. “And so you would have me follow her and scrutinize her every action to make her fit to rule?”

If the noble took heed of his frosty tone, he does not react to it. Instead, he looks at Zhongli coyly from behind his fan. “I assure you, it will be best for both you and me to have her reeducated. To an extent.” The noble says, “I assume you know what I’m referring to? You’re an intelligent man, Mr. Zhongli. You come from a good family and know much of the world… but you could always, ah, possess more.”

“Knowledge is power, as I am sure you are aware,” he says, chuckling. Zhongli watches in silence as the noble walks away, waving a flippant hand. “Be sure to take care not to provide her with too much, Mr. Zhongli, and perhaps I’ll refer you to a different title someday.”

.

.

.

When Guizhong was chosen to become a lady of another country, Zhongli felt, for the first time in many, that perhaps there was more to life than a constant grapple for power and the legacy that it would lead. She had not wanted to leave as much as he did not want her to go, but he did not understand then that he held power in his mind and in his own actions to change the path in which his path would lead.

Despite his disdain for the lies and trickery involved with the power struggle, Zhongli knows he will keep his promise to his father to uphold his family honor. He has always been a man of his words, for he bound himself into fulfilling them as though they are contracts.

But as he watches the head noble disappear behind the court doors, Zhongli wonders if that is all he is capable of.

When he thinks of Guizhong-- when he thinks of you, who has lost so much and could lose so much more, he thinks that for how your world seems to be against you, he wants to be someone on your side of the ring-- despite how everyone pressures for the opposite. Zhongli does not know if he deserves it, but he wishes to have your trust. He has yet to know how to truly support you, but he wants to provide you the freedom of choice if he can-- even in the smallest of ways.

And so he gives you freedom in the only way he knows how.

“What would you like to learn about today?” Zhongli asks you the next day as the two of you walk quietly to the study room. He can’t help the smile on his face when you turn to him in poorly-hidden surprise. Despite how you may act in front of the nobles whom he knows has an ill-opinion of you as you of them, you cannot help the emotions that come to the surface. He thinks himself lucky, if he were honest, to know that he is at least in your favor enough for you to let down your guard to give him a glimpse of the Princess he had seen not a fortnight ago.

To this date, he has only seen you be as such with your lady-in-waiting, Amber, but he knows that in his presence, he has only barely scratched the surface to the depth of your relationship and personality.

“What would I like to learn about?” You repeat, looking out into the garden in thought. “I’m not sure,” you say, turning to him. “What do you want to teach me?”

Zhongli blinks. “Pardon?”

At his confusion, you laugh, and Zhongli cannot help how his chest flutters at your sound of joy, for how far off it seemed that you would ever express that again. Just when he thought he could not be surprised, you tilt your head and smile teasingly at him. “You and I both know that the nobles are the ones that have been controlling my schedule for the past week. I want to know what you would want to teach me personally.”

Zhongli feels his cheeks warm at the tone of your voice. “Princess, I--” His father would be horrified at his lack of composure, but Zhongli cannot afford to think of his family and their expectations when you look up at him expectantly without an ounce of impatience. He clears his throat and thinks deeply, much to your amusement, putting his hand to his chin. “I suppose… I suppose I could provide you the history of the glaze lilies that the garden has in abundance?” He says, watching as your eyes soften, “They’re quite remarkable-- able to bloom in a night and gone in the next, some even saying they possess a different scent if you sing to them.”

“I agree with them, whoever said singing to them creates a different scent,” you say, looking out into the garden by the bamboo where three glaze lilies lay unbloomed. “If you sing the Liyuen lullaby to them, it produces a very soft fragrance-- almost like baby powder.” You turn to him and smile. “They were my mother’s favorite,” you explain gently. “She always sang and picked one for me to keep in my room.”

Zhongli lowers his head in respect. “My apologies, Princess, I didn't mean to bring up such personal topics."

“No, no! Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, laughing. “It’s fine. It’s nice to think of something nice like that.” You brush your hair behind your ears, and if there was a nostalgic lilt to your voice, he does not throw attention to it. “I like it,” you say, “please continue. I’m curious about the glaze lily’s history.”  

And what was Zhongli to do for the Princess if not to continue?

Zhongli doesn’t know if you have committed his every word to memory, or whether you remember anything in regards to the dates he provided (you are terrible with dates, he has found out, much to your embarrassment; but much like everything he knows of you, he finds it endearing). But he watches as you walk through the garden with him, the most at peace he has ever seen you, and he continues to speak.

And Zhongli lets his voice rid of the garden of silence, your thoughtful hums and soft laughter as accompaniment. Soon enough, though, the sun sets and the stars begin to shine, and Zhongli leads you to your room where you will be served dinner.

You thank him for the lesson, and he nods gracefully, his hand upon his chest. When he raises his head, you are still smiling at him. (He thinks abruptly that he would like to keep that smile on your face, if only for a moment, and the next words tumble from his mouth.)

“If you are looking for a place by the sea,” he says, remembering your words from before, “‘where the wind blows and the earth is clean,’ then I believe that I shall make our lesson on that the next time we find ourselves free.”

You blink up at him, eyes wide-- lips parted as though awestruck until they widen into the kindest smile he has ever seen on you.

“Yes,” you say softly, “that sounds lovely. Thank you.”

Zhongli lowers his head again in respect, swallowing at the magnitude of your magnanimity. “Of course, Princess.”

He expects to be dismissed, but instead he hears you ask, “Would you like to join me for dinner, xiansheng?”

Zhongli wonders how many times a person can bewilder him one day. “Pardon me?”

“I’m asking if you, Zhongli xiansheng,” you say with a now-familiar lilt of amusement, “would like to eat with the Princess.” You laugh when he stands, tall as he is, gaping at you. “You can say no. I won’t take offense. Promise.”

And he thinks to himself that as generous as you are to offer him the option to deny your request, he doesn’t know if he ever would have.

Dinner consisted of the finest foods: Peking duck, the freshest peaches of Fontaine, the grains of Qingce Village, and bamboo soup that would have put his personal chef to shame. It is custom of the Princess to sit from a table distant from him, but in the confines of your inner chambers, you sit right in front of him, placing dishes in front of him for him to try. (Zhongli has a feeling you would pile food onto his bowl if you could.)

He has the delight of not only enjoying the foods you have offered but also the sight of your smiling countenance for the remainder of that night. And for once, he feels as though he has taken the reins on his own life-- for the better.

(He only hopes he can keep holding on.)

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #genshin zhongli #genshin x reader #sorry for the repost! tags r not workin w me #imperial drama au

[thetravelerwrites]

Courtship of the Headless King: Chapter One

Rating: General Audiences Fandoms: 忘却の首と姫 | Boukyaku no Shirushi to Hime | The Princess and The Forgotten Head Relationship: Female Human/Male Headless King Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Political Marriage, Power Dynamic, Headless King Words: 4366

This is not my original work!

This is a fan retelling of one of my favorite mangas, Boukyaki no Shirushi to Hime, whose original mangaka sadly passed away in 2014, leaving the series unfinished. I will start at the beginning of the manga and go through the entire story that has already been written. Once I reach chapter 20, which is the end of the published chapters, I will have to start extrapolating and imagining how the story may have played out. I hope I can do the original story justice and not disgrace the original author.

I will say that I will be fixing a few things that made me uncomfortable about the original manga, in that the female protagonist was 15, which I didn't like. Otherwise I will try to stick as close to the original story as possible, though I will be arranging it so that it's a bit more linear.

I hope you enjoy!

“Blessings to you, my lady,” The visitor said, bowing deeply in greeting. “My name is Aquamarine. I am a servant of the high king of Banfarie and a chosen attendant to the future queen.”

The summons wasn’t necessarily a shock, but it was definitely a surprise. Lilya, the third princess of the former kingdom of Tritsia, had come of age during a bloody war between kingdoms to either side, and her small, impoverished land had been caught in the crossfire. Tritsia had been absorbed by the victorious kingdom to the east, Couliea, and was now a vassal state. As such, the royal family of Tritsia were now hardly more than paupers in their own kingdom.

Lilya assumed that she would no longer be eligible for the marriage interviews that were famously, or perhaps infamously, conducted five times every month in the largest empire in the continent, Banfarie. The interviews had been happening since before she had even been born, but as of yet, no queen had been selected. Or rather, no woman had accepted.

The rules for who would be chosen for the interviews was standard for most monarchs looking for a queen: a woman of royal or noble blood with proof of lineage, at least eighteen years old but no older that twenty five, no previous marriages or engagements, no children, and… well… consent.

Lilya met most of the criteria… except for one thing: she wasn’t a high born woman anymore. Her family’s royal status had ended when the kingdom was absorbed into another. Besides, even when her father had been king, they had never exactly been what anyone would consider proper royalty. Her father worked in the fields with his people, doing the same back-breaking labor as his subjects. Back then, she could hardly be called princess, but now she was nothing more than a peasant farm girl, more suited to feeding chickens and mucking out stables than attending grand balls and high teas.

So there had been quite a stir when their unusual guest came to deliver the summons. She was a woman who appeared very young in age, no more than perhaps sixteen, though she spoke as if she were a far older creature. She had a short bob haircut and a thick fringe, but it wasn’t enough to hide her pointed ears, her sharp eyes, and her upswept eyebrows, belying a nature that wasn’t human.

Her cloak was plain, but well-made and of fine cloth, likely silk or satin. She had all the hallmarks of a servant of a wealthy, prosperous nation. She had been given entrance to the house by the only servant Lilya’s family employed, Sebastian, and was standing in the receiving room with Lilya’s mother and aunt.

“I come with greetings from my Lord King, to relay a question and to present a gift to you, beloved princess.”

Lilya tilted her head. “A gift? His Majesty didn’t need to send a gift.”

Aquamarine simply chuckled and bowed. “From his Majesty, with his kindest regards.” From her cloak, she produced a velveteen box and opened it, revealing a tiara of breathtaking beauty. Sizable diamonds and sapphires lined the circlet and rose up to create a lovely sloped and winding style like that of wind on water. It was a crown that would suit any head it rested upon.

“Oh!” Lilya breathed. “It’s breathtaking!” She rushed to her mother in delight. “This is the answer to the famine on the outskirts in the south! If we sell the tiara at the biggest market in the neighboring kingdom, we could feed the farmers for months, maybe a year!”

“Lilya!” Her aunt exclaimed in horror. “How could you suggest such a thing? This was a gift from a king, for goodness sake, you can’t just sell it!”

“But, Auntie, I can’t hoard something like this when people are starving!”

“You would not wear it?” Aquamarine asked, her face shrewdly assessing. “Is it not to your liking?”

“Oh, no, that’s not it at all!” Lilya insisted earnestly. “It’s lovely, more so than anything I’ve ever seen. I’ve never worn anything so extravagant. But… truly, for me to wear it would be like putting silk ribbons on a pig. It would be far less useful as a trinket in my wardrobe and better as a tool to feed the hungry. I’m afraid that Couliea doesn’t pay much attention to our struggles, so we have to fend for ourselves. This,” Lilya gently took the box from Aquamarine and turned it so that she could see the tiara properly. “This is indeed a kingly gift. This will save lives. There is no more noble a gift as that.” She bowed her head and handed the box back gingerly. “If his Majesty would not be pleased with my conduct, I understand, but I would hope he would see the sense in my actions.”

Aquamarine laughed a little. “I do not think his Majesty will be displeased. Quite the opposite. Even still,” Aquamarine set the box down on the table and carefully pried a dangling jewel from the very center, threading it through a silver chain she had worn around her own neck, and placed it on Lilya. “His Majesty will want confirmation that his gift was received. This will suffice.”

“Then I shall wear it to the marriage interview,” Lilya said, patting it fondly.

Aquamarine’s head cocked back in surprise. “I had not even had the chance to ask you, and yet you’re agreeing to go?”

“Well, yes,” Lilya said. “That’s why you’ve come to call on me, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Aquamarine said with a smirk. “But usually it takes much more convincing on my part. I don’t believe I’ve ever met someone so… eager.”

“At the very least, I have to thank him for his generosity,” Lilya said. “Even if he decides I’m not a good match for him, I have to express my gratitude in person.”

“You’re not scared? I’m certain you’ve heard the rumors about my Lord King.”

“Well… yes,” Lilya admitted. “I won’t lie and say I’m not apprehensive, but kindness like this can’t go unacknowledged. It’s only right that I meet with him.”

Where Aquamarine’s smile had been playful and mischievous before, it was now wide and warm. “I will happily go now and inform his Majesty of your decision. My sisters and I will return in a fortnight to collect you for your interview. You may bring a guest with you, if you wish, though I assure you that you’ll be quite safe in our care.”

“I have no doubt that’s true,” Lilya said, bowing. “Would you like some refreshments to take with you on your trip back?”

“How kind of you, dear, but that won’t be necessary,” Aquamarine said, patting Lilya’s cheek. “We shall return in two weeks. You make sure you take care now. Our Lord King would be much distressed should something happen to you in the meantime.”

Aquamarine snapped her fingers, and there was a flash of light from which everyone in the room had to shield their eyes. When they blinked, the young woman was gone.

“Witch...” Sebastian said in horror. “My Lady, you can’t meet with this monster! What kind of king employs such demons?”

“Likely someone who understands that people like them also need to earn a living, I’d imagine,” Lilya said reasonably. “Besides, I’ve already agreed and accept his gift. I can’t go back on my word.”

“I can’t believe you’d actually sell such a treasure,” Your aunt said disapprovingly. “You’re so like your father.”

She didn’t mean that in a good way. Lilya’s mother’s sister, Kiya, had always disliked her father and resented him for being too weak a king, unable to protect his people during the war. She had also resented Lilya ever since she had been born. There was worry that Sophie would not be able to carry another child at her age, and that the royal line would end as there would be no male heir to Tritsia.

The birth of Lilya’s little brother shortly before her father’s death was not enough to warm Kiya to Lilya. In fact, it seemed to drive the wedge even further, as Sophie and her brother were both terribly weak afterward and there was concern they wouldn’t survive. Kiya had gone so far as to blame Lilya, telling her that it would have been her fault if they died. As a nine year old, she couldn’t imagine what she’d have done to cause such a terrible thing, but now she understood it was just her aunt lashing out.

Perhaps it was because Lilya resembled her father the most out of all her siblings, or because she was most like him in temperament, but she doubted Kiya would ever view her favorably. She was still family, though, and Lilya tried not to take her criticism to heart, though her aunt’s cutting eyes often wore into her painfully.

“I’m doing this for our country, even if it no longer exists,” Lilya said, determinedly putting the box away in a case so that Sebastian could take it to the neighboring kingdom for appraisal. “The king has called for me. The least I can do is answer.”

“Lilya’s right, Kiya,” Lilya’s mother, Sophie, said reluctantly. “It would be improper for us to take his gift and ignore him. Though I can’t say that I’m pleased with the idea of this.” Sophie sighed unhappily. “Lilya would have been expected to marry soon as it is. I supposed we couldn’t hope for better than a king.” Sophie took her daughter’s hands in her own. “Still, I’m very worried. I should come with you.”

“No, Mama, they need you here. You’ll have to be the one to make sure that the tiara gets a fair price and oversee the distribution of the food to the needy. I’ll be fine on my own, and besides, Aquamarine said that she and her sisters were part of the Queen’s guard, and I liked her very much. I couldn’t be any safer.”

Lilya’s mother grimaced. “That doesn’t make me feel better. You have many lovely qualities, my sweet child, but being a good judge of character is not among them. All anyone needs to do is tell you a sad story for you to want to take them under your wing, regardless of their true intentions.” She smiled fondly. “You’re much like your father in that respect.”

Lilya smiled in return. “Father was not a good king,” She said sadly. “But he was a good man.”

“With that, I cannot argue,” Sophie said, but she frowned in distress. “You’re elder sisters had married before they got the summons, so I’ve never met with the king. Your father met with him only once, during a conference of kings, but he never told us anything about him other than he found him to be… striking. I think he didn’t tell us more because he want to frighten us.”

“Have you heard much about him?” Lilya asked anxiously.

“Reports are varied and hard to believe; that the king is a headless monster, thousands of years old, ten feet tall, winged and hulking, who eats the women who refused him. I’m not sure I believed any of that, but the rumors are still enough to make me trepidatious.”

Sebastian grumbled, his mustache shuddering. “It is the rumors that could be true that make me uneasy.”

“How do you mean?”

“I am an old man now,” Sebastian said. “Well into my seventies, so I remember when the interviews began sixty years ago. In all that time, and no queen of Banfarie has been chosen. It concerns me. The king himself may now be an old man.”

“Is that why he’s being turned down?” Lilya asked.

“No, young madam,” He said. “You see, even before the interviews began, Banfarie had no queen in nearly one hundred years. In fact, since that time, no new kings had been crowned, either. The king from one hundred years ago was an elusive man who few had ever met, and those who did were terrified of him. If the current king is that man’s successor, it’s certainly distressing. But if he is the same man, then he is a creature of deeply evil magic, and Lady Lilya should stay far away from him.”

“Even if he were the same man, which should be impossible, his reputation is less than ideal,” Sophie said pensively. “The house of Banfarie is known historically for it’s cruelty and harsh punishments, even of neighboring kingdoms. It instituted a law that allowed Banfarie to make judgments on the conduct of royals, indict them criminally, and even sentence retribution against them, up to and including execution. The neighboring kingdoms pushed back against this, of course, but eventually they all fell in line and wrote it into their countries’ laws. I don’t trust any man who could wield that level of power over others.”

“But think of what that level of influence could do for Tritsia!” Kiya said. “A king with that kind of power could protect us and provide for us!”

Sophie shivered. “I don’t want to know what he would want in return for that protection.”

“Well, I would think that’s be obvious,” Kiya said, looking pointedly at Lilya.

Sophie, normally a mild, even-tempered woman, grew angry. “And you’re alright with that, are you? You’re willing to sell my youngest daughter to a monster if it benefits you?”

“Sophie, don’t be sentimental,” Kiya said, folding her arms. “Political marriages are common for royalty. If we had been a stronger country, this would be completely normal, even for a third daughter.”

“We’re not royalty anymore,” Sophie said firmly.

“But we could be, that’s the point!”

“Please, don’t fight,” Lilya said, getting between the two sisters. “I’ve already made the decision. Kiya is right; if I were to marry His Majesty of Banfarie, our kingdom would then be his responsibility rather than that of Couliea. However he treats that responsibility, it can’t be worse than the wanton destruction from the war or the indifferent cruelty of Couliea. If he accepts me, even if it is only a political marriage and nothing more, it would greatly benefit us both. He would at last gain the queen he’s been searching for and our country will be protected. I will meet him. Perhaps the rumors are wrong.”

“I can only hope,” Sophie remarked grimly. After throwing an angry look at her sister, she pulled Lilya away from Kiya and spoke in an undertone. “But… is this what you really want?”

“I want my family and people safe and well above all,” Lilya said. “If this king can offer that, then I can ask for nothing more.”

“If this is what you wish,” Her mother said slowly. “Then I will respect it. But… it is not what I would wish for you.”

“I know, Mama,” Lilia said. “We don’t always get what we truly wish for. But this is as close as I can get.”

“If the king accepts you,” Lilya’s mother remarked sadly. “We may never see you again.”

“That may not be true. I would hope that his Majesty wouldn’t prevent me from seeing my family once I settle in.”

“Just be careful, my love,” Her mother said, pulling her into a hug. “Be careful.”

As promised, Aquamarine returned in a fortnight to collect Lilya to take her to the capitol of Banfarie, Rukruf. A carriage had come with them for Lilya’s comfort.

“Couldn’t you transport me like you did the day you first came?”

“I’m afraid that’s a rather disorienting way to travel for humans, My Lady,” Aquamarine said, taking Lilya’s luggage. “It would require some degree of acclamation, and I don’t think his Majesty would want you to be sick during your interview.” She lifted Lilya’s bag up with one hand. “Is this all you’re bringing with you?”

“This is all I have,” Lilya replied simply. “You admit that you’re not human?”

“I was never attempting to hide it. I’m a spirit, specifically an stone spirit, as are my sisters. There they are now.”

She jerked her head toward the carriage. There were two more women identical to Aquamarine near the carriage, one in the driver’s box and another holding open the door to the carriage. All three women had short, pale lavender colored hair and large, glittering eyes. They wore identical uniforms similar to that of an attendant, but the skirts were rather short, stopping just below the knee, giving them a freer rang of movement. Each one had a dagger hanging from their hip.

Both new sisters bowed deeply as Lilya approached.

“My lady,” They said in unison.

“Garnet,” Aquamarine said, pointing to the driver,and then to the coach-woman. “And Peridot.”

“I don’t doubt the three of you are sisters; I can’t tell you apart,” Lilya said.

“Ah, but see?” Peridot said, pointing to a white bow on the right side of her hair in the shape of a butterfly. She then pointed to Garnet, who wore a black butterfly bow on her left side, and to Aquamarine, who wore no bow at all. “Even people who know us well have trouble distinguishing us from the other, so we’ve taken to wearing these. Only his Majesty can tell us apart without them.”

“Here, my Lady,” Peridot said, swinging a beautiful, fur-lined, snow-white cloak around Lilya’s shoulders. “We’ll be going through the mountains and it’s likely to get cold. His Majesty had this made for you.”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Lilya said, petting the soft, veltvety collar that ruffed around her neck. “I’m starting to get anxious about meeting him.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Peridot asked ash she helped Lilya up into the carriage.

“I can’t tell,” Lilya replied, laughing nervously.

“Don’t be nervous,” Peridot said as she came in and closed the door behind her, rapping sharply on the roof before settling. “His Majesty is only a threat to humans.”

Lilya looked at Peridot in alarm.

“It was a joke,” Peridot assured her, giggling. “…mostly.”

The carriage lurched forward and Aquamarine put a hand out to steady Lilya before she fell out of her seat.

“When will we arrive?”

“Around sunset tomorrow,” Aquamarine replied. “We’ll continue on through the night rather than stop at an inn. His Majesty is eager to meet you.”

“Won’t you be tired?” Lilya asked.

“Not to worry,” Aquamarine said. “Spirits like us don’t need much sleep, only a few hours a week. We’re all rested up.”

“That’s amazing. I wish I could do that.”

“Yes, it is awfully handy,” Peridot said rather smugly. “Are you hungry? We’ve brought things for you to eat.”

The two days passed pleasantly and Lilya spent the time having long, friendly conversations with all three sisters. Lilya had never had lady friends her age, and though the women were spirits and likely far older than she was, they seemed to enjoy her company and asked her many questions.

“Oh, Lady, come and see!” Garnet said, pointing out of the window. “You can see the capitol city from this vantage!”

Delighted, Lilya looked out of the window where Garnet was pointing. “It’s huge!” She exclaimed. “I can’t even see the end of it! It must be as large as my entire country!”

“Your country is larger by about fifty miles, in fact,” Aquamarine said. “It’s the smallest country on the continent.”

“Yes, that sounds right,” She sighed. “I mean, I didn’t know that for sure, but I’m not surprised.”

“Are you sad to be from such a small country?”

“No,” She replied. “My country is beautiful and my people are good. I just wish we were better able to defend ourselves.”

“Well, you may not have that problem anymore,” Aquamarine said. “We’re nearly there.”

“Will I meet his Majesty today?”

“No, you will be tired from the trip and will rest for tonight. He will conduct your interview tomorrow after you have your breakfast. His Majesty has instructed us to see to your every comfort.”

“That’s just going to make me more anxious,” Lilya said.

“The best things are worth waiting for,” Peridot said.

That evening, they arrived at the castle, which was every bit as colossal as described. Over it was a cloud of purple, blue, and pink particles, as if it were perpetual sunset over the castle.

“What is that?”

“It’s called the Aurora,” Garnet said. “It’s a magical field that has existed over the castle for hundreds of years and is the source of the royal family’s magical power. It ascends and descends over the castle, depending on how the king feels. It’s highly reactive to his emotional state.”

“Oh, goodness,” Lilya said. “It’s rather low right now. What does that mean?”

“Hmm…” Garnet said. “I believe he may be feeling rather withdrawn.”

“I wonder why that would be,” Lilya mused.

Standing at the front steps of the castle as they pulled up were two young men in uniform, one blond and one dark haired. The blond wore glasses and seemed to be the junior of the two. They bowed as Lilya exited the carriage.

“Miss Lilya, these are the King’s personal attendants, Larima,” She gestured at the dark haired one first, and then to the blond. “And Raba. They are meeting you in place of his Majesty today.”

“Does that mean his Majesty is watching?” Lilya asked, looking up at the windows.

“Whether he is or is not,” Larima said as he straightened. “We are pleased to meet you, My Lady. Please allow us to show you to your room.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lilya replied. Curiously, she noticed as they turned that there appeared to be leaves growing out of their hair.

The sisters were following behind her at a short distance. “Are they spirits, too?” Lilya asked them in an undertone.

“Yes,” Peridot said. “They’re tree spirits. All of the staff employed at his Majesty’s main castle are not human.”

“Why?”

“His Majesty distrusts humans,” Aquamarine replied.

“But isn’t his Majesty human?” Lilya asked in confusion.

“Yes,” Peridot responded.

“And no,” Garnet said.

Lilya made a noise of uncertainty under her breath.

“Don’t worry, my Lady,” Garnet said. “You’ll understand tomorrow.”

“This is all very ominous,” Lilya said uncertainly.

“Yes!” Peridot said. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Before she could answer, she was lead to an opulent guestroom, far larger than any of the rooms in her home, filled with luxurious furniture and carefully crafted decorations.

“This can’t be my room,” Lilya said with a laugh. “What would I do with all this space?”

Raba and Larima exchanged looks. “Do you dislike it? We have a number of other rooms. You’re free to choose any one of them.”

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Lilya said hastily. “It’s beautiful, I adore it. Please, it’s not that I’m ungrateful, I just feel like… I don’t know… isn’t it wasted on me?”

The triplets sighed sadly, having become used to Lilya’s unusual behavior, but the men continued to look confused.

“You do realize that if his Majesty chooses you and you accept, you’ll be queen?” Raba asked. “This,” He gestured at the room. “Is nothing compared to the queen’s suite.”

“Oh…” Lilya replied, a little disconcerted. “This will take some getting used to.”

“I understand,” Larima said. “You’re the princess from Tritsia, correct? The smallest, poorest kingdom on the continent, now a captured vassal state of Couliea. I suppose you must not be accustomed to living so resplendently.”

“Larima!” Aquamarine hissed. “Don’t be so tactless!”

Lilya laughed a little, relieved. “No, it’s alright. I’m not used to this at all, that’s true. Will that bother his Majesty?”

Larima smiled and shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t think so. Don’t worry so much about what’s appropriate and just enjoy your time here. Come.” He lead Lilya inside and showed her two cords right next to the bed, a small blue cord and a larger red cord. “The blue cord is attached to a bell in the queen’s attendants’ quarters. If you need for anything, just ring it and one of the triplets will be here in an instant. The red one is an alarm. If you pull it, bells will go off all throughout the castle. Ring it only if it’s an emergency.”

“I understand,” Lilya said. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Raba and Larima bowed and left, and the triplets ushered Lilya into an adjacent dining room to have dinner.

After a restless night of sleep and a breakfast she barely touched, Lilya was dressed in a lovely blue gown that complimented her hair, which was pulled back with matching ribbons. The bodice was tight but comfortable, the cut of the dress was simple but elegant, and for the first time, Lilya felt like a proper grown woman.

A knock on the door revealed Raba.

“His Majesty is ready for you and is waiting in his office,” He said.

Lilya stood and clenched her hands to stop them from shaking and followed Raba out of her quarters with Garnet and Aquamarine following behind her.

“Don’t worry, my Lady,” Garnet said. “I think the king will like you very much.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes,” Aquamarine replied. “We’re more concerned whether or not you’ll like him.”

“Why wouldn’t I like him?” She asked.

“Well…” Garnet began regretfully, but then stopped.

“Here we are,” Raba said, gesturing to a set of large double doors. “One moment please.” Raba knocked on the door. “Your Majesty, I have retrieved Lady Lilya for her interview. Are you ready?”

There was silence, though Raba tilted his head as if he were listening.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Raba opened one of the doors and stood aside. “You may enter.”

Gulping, checking that the pendant was in place, and taking a deep breath, Lilya stepped inside.

There, standing rail-straight behind a desk, was a tall, thin man wearing elaborate garments in keeping with his status as a king and emperor, as well as a sash and badges of his station. Almost immediately, one of the many rumors about the king was confirmed with Lilya’s own eyes.

His Imperial Majesty, the king of Banfarie, had no head.

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My Masterlist

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#Boukyaki no Shirushi to Hime #The Princess and the Forgotten Head #Manga #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Manga Fanfic #Manga Fanfiction #Exophilia #Headless King

[idreamofplaid]

Stronger

Square Filled: Sung to Sleep for @spnfluffbingo & Hurt/Comfort for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

Characters: Moc!Dean x Reader; Sam and Cas mentioned

Rating: Teen

Summary: Dean thinks there’s only one thing he can do to protect the woman he loves from the Mark of Cain, but Dean doesn’t know everything.

Word Count: 2949

I felt it as soon as I held that thing in my hand. Rage. Raw and burning, demanding to be released. It was fueled by everything I buried so deep down inside me, and I somehow thought all that regret, disappointment, and frustration would never see the light of day. I could keep it buried out of sheer willpower, or it could magically go away if I wished for it hard enough.

That’s not the kind of magic that’s in the world. That’s not the magic I know. The magic I know curses, manipulates, and hurts people. It twists things up into something they shouldn’t be, and it’s all the things that shouldn’t be that make me so mad. They create the anger that’s in me for the mark to draw upon, all those things that never should have happened. All those things that still sit so heavy on me and Sam. 

Mom shouldn’t have died when I was four years old. Dad shouldn’t have tried to drown his grief in a bottle. He shouldn’t have left Sam and me alone like he did. I shouldn’t have watched my brother fall into a hole to hell and try to live a normal life while I knew he was in a cage with Lucifer being tortured. I shouldn’t have had such a good idea of what was happening to him in that cage because I’d been to hell myself.

Everything that’s pent up inside me gave The First Blade its power when I held it, the same way the mark gets its power from me. Those two things combined forces when the blade was in my hand, and I could feel the energy surging through me. It isn’t something I’m going to be able to control, not with silver bullets, rock salt, or a devil’s trap. Nothing I know about fighting is going to help with this thing. 

The day is going to come when this mark is going to take over my mind and everything I do. You can’t be here when that happens. I have to protect you, and that means getting you far away from me. 

I finish off my third glass of whiskey. It still isn’t enough. There isn’t enough whiskey in this bunker, or all of Kansas, to numb me so much that when I do what I have to do it’s not going to hurt worse than anything I’ve experienced in what has, more or less, been a lifetime of pain with brief moments of happiness.

Most of those moments have been with you. Anything I know of true happiness is because you showed it to me. You didn’t grow up the way I did. I’m thankful for that every day. You don’t know what it’s like to sleep with a gun under your pillow, but you’ve slept next to me plenty of times when there was a gun under mine.

That’s bad enough, but I will not let you suffer what this mark is going to do to me. You deserve better than that. You always deserved more than me, but this is where I draw the line. 

I think about pouring myself some more whiskey, but there’s no point. There isn’t anything in that bottle that’s going to give me the courage I need to do what’s right for you. The only thing that can make me strong enough is how much I love you. 

I’ve never even told you. Those aren’t words I know how to say, and it’s better now that I didn’t. That would only make this harder, and I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to. I never wanted to hurt you. I would go to hell again in an instant if it meant sparing you pain. I guess I am; it’s just this time my hell is going to be on earth, and the thing that will torture me the most is being without you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You have to go.” You’re standing in our room with a look of disbelief on your face like you can’t comprehend what I just said, so I try again. “It’s time for this, whatever we’ve had, to be over.” Still you say nothing, just look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours that could make me lose my nerve and not go through with this, so I turn my head away. I can’t look in your eyes.

I’ve got to get through to you. You can’t be near me. I will not let this anger that’s going to consume me consume you too. This situation calls for something else. I still can’t look at you. I cannot look at you when I do this, or I’ll break.

I grab my duffle from the corner where I left it after the last hunt and throw it on the bed, then I open the drawer in the chest where you keep your clothes and start emptying it. I’m stuffing them into the duffle, trying hard not to really notice them because then I’ll remember. 

I’ll think about the last time you wore that shirt, or how this is the one you always wear when we curl up on the bed to watch movies together and end up wrapped around each other, making out and forgetting all about the movie. 

I’m managing to keep it together until I find one of my shirts in that drawer. It’s my black t-shirt you like to sleep in. I can picture the way it looks on you, the way it falls on your thighs and how good your legs look when you wear it; and then I remember the way it feels when your legs are wrapped around me. I take a deep breath.

I have to stop packing the duffle. I can’t touch your clothes anymore, and you see your opening. “Dean, what are you doing?”

I push the image of you in that shirt with your head on my chest out of my mind because it feels like a fist squeezing the life out of my heart. I zip the duffle closed. Whatever is in there will have to do. I pick it up and throw it on the floor. I never faced any monster that tested my courage the way this is. “I told you. We’re done, and you need to leave.”

“Dean, stop it and look at me.” You reach out and put your hand on my arm. It looks so small, and I want to feel it in mine so bad. It’s the hand I thought about holding for the rest of my life, however long that may be. 

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing again before I turn around to look at you. When I do, I feel my knees go weak. Stay focused. Do what you have to do for her. “Don’t make this harder or more complicated than it has to be, Y/N.”

I’m waiting for you to say something. Anything. But I’m not expecting what you do say. “Dean, you’re full of crap.” Now, it’s my turn to look confused. I have no response for that, but you have plenty more to say.

You let go of my arm, stand back, and cross your arms over your chest. “You think you’re doing something noble, and you’ve done plenty of noble things in your life, but this isn’t one of them. There’s no way you’d be saying any of this if that mark wasn’t on your arm. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Dean. I’m not blind, and I’m not stupid. You looked at me that way last night, and I know what it means even if you won’t say it.”

I fumble for something to say, and the best I’ve got is “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your arms fall to your sides. “Like hell you don’t, Dean. You try to stay hidden behind that wall you’ve made around yourself, but before you got the mark; I broke through it. You let me in, and it’s not going to be so easy to push me back out.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down. My eyes follow you; I’m watching every move you make. You’re staring at me, and just as much as I couldn’t look at you before; I can’t help but look at you now.  Your voice sounds steady and determined. You aren’t finished with me. You’ve decided I’m going to hear everything you have to say. 

“I could leave the bunker, but it wouldn’t mean I’d leave you. I’d still be in touch with Sam all the time, asking him about you, keeping tabs on you, doing everything I could to save you. I’ll never stop trying to save you no matter how many times you tell me to go because I don’t believe any of it, and because I love you. You can’t stop me from loving you, and I won’t. I can’t now even if I tried.” You wrapped your arms around your middle and hugged yourself. It was nothing like when you’d taken your defiant stance with your arms folded over your chest.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and all the air had been knocked out of me. All I wanted to do was sit down beside you, take you in my arms, and give you all the comfort you were trying to give yourself. It was true. You wouldn’t give up. That’s who you are. Stubborn. Willful. And the kindest, most loving woman on this earth.

Fuck no. There are tears in your eyes. Not tears. I can’t handle tears. I can’t just watch you cry and do nothing to stop it. The next thing you say blows my plan to pieces. 

You hug yourself tighter, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I need you, Dean. Our...baby needs you.”

I sit down on the end of the bed because I don’t trust my legs to hold me up anymore, and I’m trying to read your face, trying to will you to look at me. “Our...Wh...What?”

When you do look at me, your eyes are sad. Your eyes shouldn’t be sad. More tears are streaming down your face. I can’t just sit here. I slide down the side of the bed until I’m next to you, and I wipe the tears from your cheeks. You let me. You don’t pull away, and I’m relieved for that. Just forget what I said before. I was an ass. I didn’t know.

“We’re having a baby, Dean. Don’t make me go.” Your tears have turned into sobs, and I take you in my arms, my earlier act forgotten. 

I put my hand in your hair and hold the back of your head while I whisper to you and try to calm you down. You shouldn’t be upset like this.  “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I wouldn’t send you and the baby away. I would never do that.” I’ll leave if I have to. You’ll be safe here in the bunker with Sam. He’ll protect you, and this place is warded against anything that might want to hurt you. Sam is so smart; he’ll find a way to keep me out if he needs to. He knows what I would want.

After a few minutes, you stop crying and lift your head from my shoulder. Your eyes don’t look as sad as before, but they’re still sad; I hate that, hate that I did that to you. “Dean, why would you tell me to go when it isn’t what you want? I know it isn’t.”

I take your face in my hands and try to memorize how beautiful you are, in case the day comes when I can’t see you anymore. In case you and Sam can’t save me, I know you’ll try, but…. “Because I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared I’ll hurt you, and….” Wait. “The baby. When did it happen? Did I have this thing on my arm? Is the baby….?”

“It was before,” you tell me. “The baby’s okay.” I let go of you and scrub my hand down my face. Then I turn and brace my hands on each side of me on the bed. This is why I shouldn’t have kids. All this fucked up shit that is my life should never come anywhere near a kid. 

“What if it hadn’t been, Y/N? I could have infected our child with this evil that I’m carrying.” I can feel my own eyes filling up with tears. I could have hurt our baby, just because of who I am. I lower my head and cover my face with my hand. I wish I could hide from you. I feel so ashamed.

All that shame is mixed up with something else, a fierce protective love for you and the baby you’re carrying. I don’t even know what’s right for you anymore. I don’t know what to do.. 

I feel your arm go around me, and your voice is still the sweetest sound I could possibly hear. For some reason, you’re still here talking to me even though I’m a danger to you and the baby. “Dean, you won’t hurt me; you won’t hurt either of us. We’ll find a way to get that mark off your arm. We will.”

I want to believe you, but I can feel it burning. That goddamned mark is burning now. This should be one of the sweetest moments of my life. You just told me I’m going to be a father, and I can feel the mark. It won’t let me forget about it, not for an instant. It has intruded on something which should have been between us.

You put your hand over mine that’s still covering my face and move it to rest in your lap. “Dean, do you want to feel the baby?” Your voice is full of hope; I hear it.

Feel the baby. How can you trust me so much? “Can...can I do that? Isn’t it too soon?”

You smile for the first time since I walked into our room. “Well, it’s too soon to feel it move, but you know it’s there.” You lift my hand from your lap and put it on your stomach. My baby is in there. I can’t help it. I smile too. 

Knowing there’s a life inside you that we made makes me feel something I can’t begin to explain. This feels like an even greater responsibility than saving the world from an apocalypse. How do I fulfill that responsibility with this fucking mark on my arm? It’s too much.

I leave my hand where it is on your stomach, lay down, and put my head on your lap. You have something so precious inside you. I move my hand a little so I can kiss the center of your stomach. “Sweet baby, I love you.” Just like that, I said the words I thought I couldn’t say, and everything I’ve tried to keep pushed down inside me came pouring out.

I cried there with my head on your lap, cried because I’ve dragged you both into this mess with me, cried because I need to be a father to my child. I want to be, but what if I’m not here for him? Or her? What if I’m not even here to see the baby born? What if the mark has taken me already?

Cas will take care of it. I told him to kill me if it came to that. Sam can’t do it; he won’t ever do it. A sob rips out of me. I want to see my baby grow up.

I feel your fingers running through my hair. I never wanted you to see me like this. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Dean, it’s okay.” You’re still running your fingers through my hair. Your touch is so soft, just like you, soft and good. “You don’t have to do this alone, Dean. You never had to do it alone. We love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” I circle my arms around your waist and hold on. I don’t ever want to let you go. 

You take your hand out of my hair and slide it down my back, rubbing back and forth. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I finally stop crying; and your hand stops moving.

“C’mere, Dean.” I can feel you shifting your position, and I sit up so you can move. You lay down on the bed, your head on the pillow, and hold your arms out to me. “C’mon.”

I lay down next to you with my head on your shoulder. You start stroking your fingers through my hair again. “Close your eyes, Dean.”

So close, no matter how far

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

I want to stay here like this forever with nothing but the feel of our arms around each other and the sound of your gentle voice singing.

Never opened myself this way

Life is ours; we live it our way

Oh, these words I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

You make me feel calm. I believe you when you make me feel like this. I believe it can be okay.

Trust I seek and I find in you....

I dream about you, and in my dreams there is no mark. There’s only us and a little girl with green eyes and a smile like yours. We’re happy.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967​ @sgarrett49​ @wingedcatninja​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​

#make me feel bingo #spnfluffbingo #dean angst #dean fluff #dean x reader #dean oneshot

[xsugarysweetsx]

Hi! I’m kinda new here, I’m thinking maybe a Nozel x reader where he’s helplessly smitten with her but because he’s being teased by his bratty siblings he starts acting distant to the reader and she’s hurt by this until she can’t take it anymore and breaks down and confronts him ?

A/N: welcome anon! Hope you find it welcoming here!

Please enjoy~🍰

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

Nozel was nothing short of a great captain. Strong, powerful and a very serious leader. Although there was only one exception, and that was you. You were the newest recruit of the silver eagles but something about you was different. You made him feel different.

While everyone on the squad was a bit arrogant and rude, you were one of the few who was very kind. Despite what other said or how they treated you, you remained kind. You had reminded him a lot of his mother. Like her aura was coming from you. He actually asked you to spar and train with a few times.

Of course it was an excuse to kind of observe you in a way. How you thought, moved and everything. He noticed that when you spar you go a bit softer. Mostly because you didn’t want to really hurt anyone.

“You don’t have to go easy on me because I’m your captain.” He pointed out after

“It’s not that I just, don’t want to go 100% on squad or my friends.” You explain simply “when the real fight starts I’ll make sure to give it my all”

That was another thing, your drive. You were driven to fight for those who couldn’t for themselves. You’d always go the extra mile during missions to make sure the people were okay. You’d even help with cleaning up a scene, or with children who had separated from their parents.

But what had really sealed the deal for him was when you attended one of their family parties. Your parents were nobles so you attended. The music had started played and people started pairing up. During this type of dance every now and then you would switch patterns with someone. You just so happened to switched to Nozel.

“I didn’t think you were a dancer captain” you teased

“I’m not...my mother danced with me when I was younger” he turned to avoid blushing more than he already was.

“hehe, I’m sorry I was just teasing~” you apologize. He looked back to you as your lips calm down to a soft smile.

For some reason things had, slown down, almost muffled. Like it was just you and him as everyone else blended into the background. This was the first time he felt his heart stop as he swayed with you. It was also the first time he recognized his feelings for you.

After the dance was over, and party had died down. His heart was still fluttering from the moment he had with you. This then caused him to start hanging around you more. He asked you for favors and usually referred to you as example. Even during missions he’s ask if you were alright, or what you thought should happen.

You’re were soon having some tension between you both. He must have been obvious for his siblings to teasing him. They’d always Ask him

“How’s your girlfriend doing?”

“Have you proposed yet?”

“When is the wedding?”

Yes it annoyed him but he couldn’t exactly just snap at them. Scolding or not, they’ll keep at it until they have their fill. But of course, his pride can never be erased, he was Nozel Silva after all. He had slowly started to distance himself from you. It’s not that he wanted to but, he’s never experienced this before!

He doesn’t know how to confess. Or how to even flirt or court a girl he had feelings for. Instead of looking for a solution he just pushed you away.

You’d ask him if he was alright, and he’d say

“I’m just tired”

You would offer him some tea and company

“I’m very busy at the moment.”

You had even asked him if you had done something wrong to cross him. He simply didn’t answer. It was clear enough with no words that you were heartbroken. Everyone could tell you had feelings for the captain. Witnessing you being pushed away and basically rejected made them a bit sad.

You had even gone more quiet. Not only Nozel but everyone missed the sound of voice. Your gentle motivation and laughter. Even during missions you both basically ignore one another. The last thing you had expected was something like this to happen. What was this you ask?

You were currently caved in after falling into a hollow ground in a cave you’re were sent to search. Luckily there we as long passage way that seemed better than just sitting in this cave. The walk was awkward and quiet, until you asked

“Why so you hate me?��� He stops in his tracks for a moment

“I don’t.” He said simply and kept walking

“Stop lying to me!” You raise your voice making him spin and look at you stunned. He was never one to hear you get angry or snap like that.

“I used to think I was doing something right for once and out of no where you practically turn my whole world upside down!” You let out “am I not strong enough? Am I too soft?! Or do you just hate me?!” Finally the tears start to run

First it was just two drop but then you start to really cry and let out your feelings.

“You could never like someone like me Nozel. You need a Royal to fancy...” you admit making his heart skip a beat “you’re so strong and quick and talented but you could never like someone like me could you...” you quietly cry as your voice becomes soft in the echoing cave.

Nozel made swift but quiet steps to wards you and envelopes you in his cape. Almost as if he wanted to protect you from the world. He brings you in close with his arms and brings a hand to your chin so you’d look into his eyes

“Listen to me Y/N,” he said stocily yet his eyes held a storm of emotions “you’re the kindest, bravest, most generous woman I’ve ever encountered. Any man would be blessed to be graced by your presence. I for one am a man who has fallen blindly into romantic feelings for you” he finally admits

“Y-you...what?”

“Y/N....i have romantic feelings for you as well.” He tries to look you in the eye “ and I apologize for being so rude and cruel to you. You will always be enough in my eyes. That is, if you forgive me”

Was this even real? Could this have been a dream? Maybe you hit your head when you fell inside. Yet standing here wrapped in his embrace, his warmth surrounding you, and his piercing eyes staring into your souls told you otherwise.

This was the real Nozel Silva, confessing to you in a cave. You had poured your hurt emotions to him only to be courted by the same man.

“I....I forgive you Nozel,” he sighed in relief quietly “but, why did you do it?” Even if it was a horrible excuse you wanted to know why.

“I, well you see it’s just... *sigh*” he lets you go and takes your hands in his “my siblings were teasing me quite a bit but I didn’t...know how to tell you”

You tried. You really did, but the giggle came out and made blush madly.

“No, no! I’m not making fun of you, I just didn’t expect that to happen, oh I’m sorry Nozel” he pouted a bit and looked for he side. Smoking your stand in your tip toes and plant a kiss to his cheek. You take his awh and and look at him.

“Come on, we can catch up some where better than this cave” you gestures to the tunnle ahead of your exit.

“Y-yes, that would be more pleasing” and after that eventful day you go back to his office for your own meeting held together. To catch up and really get to know each other into depth.

Perhaps some sibling teasing was just enough to get the eldest to court his crush.

#nozel silva x reader #nozel silva #black clover x reader #black clover #black clover nozel #Nozel #nozel x reader #anime #anime x reader #fanfiction