#Well my life would also be better if I had 5 swords | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatbanditqueen · 1 year

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No One Walks Out Ch 5: Salty Lips

Warnings: Tarot misinformation, penetrative vaginal sex, manipulation, fluff, smut, then angsty tears. 18+ Minors DNI.

Apparently I don't know how to schedule things so I am posting earlier than expected. Please file your complaints accordingly.

Word Count: 9.4 K

Summary: Becky has settled into the rhythm of life at Graceland over the first few days there, though she still has not had a full tour. Luckily, her hosts finally get it together to show her around. She goes to visit her sister, but encounters an unexpected guest. At least for her.

I need to first thank my alpha, @whositmcwhatsit for reading the first draft and giving me feedback as she corrected my grammar. Which is generally bad. Thanks Jade, I some how fooled you into hanging out with me and I would feel guilty for asking you to read my stuff, because it takes you away from your own writing which is necessary and needed for the good of the fandom. But you always make my work better so I cannot feel guilty at all. No, I selfishly will take every glance and glint and comment you give me.

Also thanks to my fellow Elvis sister wives for all their morale support and brilliance. Just being in your orbit is a gift: @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love

If you need to catch up first:

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

or start from the beginning: No One Walks Out On Big Daddy Masterlist

Chapter 5: Salty Lips

11:45 a.m. Thursday, June 19, 1975

Graceland Estate, Memphis, TN

A cardinal twittered loudly, joined by a chickadee, and Becky was so ensconced in the bubble of idyllic life at Graceland that she wondered if this musical rendition wasn’t just for her benefit. Lisa gave an excited hum where she sat next to Becky on top of the picnic table by the pool and slapped down another tarot card.

“Alright, Becky, ‘Page of Swords’, what does this one mean?”

Becky looked closely at the drawing, closing one eye and squinting nearer for effect.

“Well, babt,” Becky mused, trying to stifle a grin and pronounce the girl’s fortune with complete confidence. “They all go together.” She set it next to the other cards they had drawn: Strength, The Chariot and The Moon. Becky was not sure how many cards you were supposed to put down when reading tarot, but four seemed like a good number.

”So?” Lisa slapped her hand on the table.

“Well, so, Page of Swords, as we can see here now, obviously means you are gonna live on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and you’ll have yellow tights, and a pretty pink dress, and a big ol’ sword that you’ll be very good at using,”

“I’m already pretty good with my daddy’s samurai sword, wanna see?”

“Hmmm, maybe later.”

Becky thought of her shooting lesson the other day and decided against more deadly weapons. Getting through the day without letting Lisa kill or be killed would count as a win for bonding with the kid of her new - lover? fling? friend? - whatever Elvis was to her. She decided to go with fling. A short fling. They were two grown adults having a casual, fun, very short fling. Well, one rock star and one adult.

Was she even an adult? She had spent most of the last three days playing with a seven year old until the late afternoon, and then playing with Elvis into the night. She felt like she had wandered into a strange, enchanted land where all the adults acted like children and all the children acted like adults. Water fights, target practice, ice cream for breakfast, and impulsive shopping sprees.

Not having a schedule or others depending on her had been freeing at first, but now, on day four of life at Graceland, Becky had started to feel somewhat unmoored from reality away from the structure of her daily life back home.

She looked down at the table, where Lisa was tapping on the next card, and continued her tarot reading.

“Ok, see here, Strength, that’s an angel with a lion. Of course, now, that is just symbolic. The angel is your conscience telling you the right thing to do, but you won’t have this moral confidence until you own a lion. They can be very difficult pets, I hear, I recommend getting an ice locker for all the gazelle meat you are going to need to feed it.”

“You’re silly, Becky, no one owns lions as pets.”

“No one yet, but hey baby, according to your fortune, you are gonna change all that. There’s nothing you can do. It’s in the cards. That means it has to happen.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, her lips betraying a smile. “Ok, what else?”

“Well, here, The Chariot, clearly one day you will go to Egypt and meet a prince -”

“And marry him?”

“Well, that depends. On whether you like him or wanna feed him to your lion?” Becky growled and gashed her teeth playfully as if she was going to eat Lisa’s shoulder. Just as Lisa shrieked and hit Becky, the back door slammed and they glanced over to see Elvis’ aunt Delta stagger out.

“Alright, Lisa Marie now, s’getting to be round lunch time. I just got Ma settled out in the rockin’ chair, so it’s time for you to come eat.” Delta looked Becky up and down as she spoke.

“Whatcha y’all got goin on?” she said, and Becky noticed Lisa stiffen and gather up the cards.

“We’re just playing Old Maid, Aunt Delta.”

Becky raised her eyebrow at Lisa, who just shook her head with a crafty smile. Becky turned to the older woman. Hmmm, I guess these older ladies don’t approve of mystical practices. Or maybe they only let one resident here get away doing whatever he wanted.

She thought of Elvis’ grandmother, who had turned to her after he had left the dinner table the night before, taken her arm and whispered low:

“I hope ya don’t break his heart, like all the rest. That young boy ova there has been through so much. Don’t know why he canna find a good woman. Guess they just don’t make us like they used ta.” Minnie Mae had then released Becky’s hand and spit part of her chew into the tea cup next to her dinner plate.

Becky only had a moment to feel uneasy before Elvis swooped back in and pulled her into the den and onto his lap, where he cajoled Lisa to perform “Crocodile Rock” for the group on top of the coffee table.

No, I reckon these good ole girls who sit around bemoaning the lack of any good women left would probably not go in for tarot cards, Becky thought, as she looked at Elvis’ aunt.

“How are you doing today, Ms. Presley?”

“Hmmm, it’s Biggs. And it’s Mrs. And never you mind, you can save it, I don’t care for you kissing up ta me. I know your kind.”

Becky tightened her smile at Delta’s grimace, wondering if that was the faint odor of vodka wafting off the older woman. Just then, Delta weaved towards her and gripped a nearby chair to steady herself. Her eyes narrowed at Becky in judgment.

“You are like all the others, waiting around for your payday. Out for all you can get. Bout as useful as gum on a boot heel. Humph.”

“Oh brother, here we go!” Lisa jumped up and walked past Delta. “C’mon, Becky Butt, let’s go get some chocolate cake.”

Becky smiled even wider at Delta as she followed Lisa, and watched the older woman scan the pool area, before tottering back to the house behind them.

“Chocolate cake? That doesn’t sound like a good lunch.”

“Oh, it’s the best lunch, don’t worry, I told Nancy before she left this morning, so it’s all ready.”

“They - they let you have that for lunch”

“Let me?” Lisa grinned a devious grin and her eyes sparkled. “I’m the boss round here when Daddy’s asleep. If they ever give me any guff, I just lay down tha law an let ‘em know how it is, jack.”

“Oh? And how is it?”

“Get with the program or git!” Lisa held the door to the kitchen open for Becky, and grabbed the milk out of the fridge.

Sure enough, there in the middle of the counter was a tall, chocolate cake adorned with a circle of pink frosting rosettes. Lisa poured two tall glasses of milk and carefully set out china plates with all the hospitality of a true, Southern hostess.

“Don’t worry, Becky, it’s vegetarian!” Lisa announced, grabbing the biggest knife Becky had ever seen, almost the length of the short, seven year old’s arm, as she proceeded to carve two large, unwieldy pieces from the beautiful dessert.

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

Becky was certain that her chocolate cake was about to make an encore appearance as the golf cart whipped around the bend. Grabbing the top of the seat, she looked over at Lisa as the little girl pushed her foot harder on the pedal and yelped with glee while she steered them down the grass behind the carport.

“I didn’t realize golf carts could go this fast.” Becky gripped her seat tighter, her knees jostling up and down against the metal bar at the front.

“Oh yeah, these are top o’ the line, Becky. Watch, I can get it to go even fast—” Becky put her hand up in protest.

“Nope, not necessary, this - this is great. Very refreshing in the heat.”

Lisa pushed her feet down a little further and Becky held on for dear life as the air whipped through her dark curls and reminded her very much that she was alive and wanted to keep it that way.

“Ok, so this is the stable,” Lisa pointed to a large white building coming up on their left side. “It’s called House of the Rising Sun, and most people think it's after a song, but actually, it's named after Daddy’s horse, Rising Sun. Though I always say he should be named Setting Sun, on account of the fact that the sun is usually setting before Papa gets up and goes riding.” Lisa slapped her thigh, as if making a rimshot on a drum set, and Becky realized this was her cue to laugh, so she let out a chuckle and rubbed Lisa’s hair.

“Yeah, that is a much better name. Or Sleeping Bear, hmmm?” Lisa giggled.

“Or Grumpy Sleepy Bear.”

“That one sounds perfect, what do you think? We have time to paint a new sign?”

Lisa laughed as she drove them on, showing Becky the trailer where her daddy’s nurse, Tish lived, and the other where Billy, Jo and their kids lived, and they wound their way around the back of the paddock.

“That’s where Daddy likes to race his horses with the guys.”

“For special occasions? Or just for fun?”

“Oh, he does it to show off for the fans.”

Becky snorted down a laugh and and attempted to catch her hair and pulled it back up as it escaped into the wind.

“Um, ha - how do you know he does it for the fans? He tell you that?”

“No, my mama told me; he likes to race the horses round for no good reason, just to show off for the fans cuz he’s a big show off and he’ll never really be a true questrion.”

“Well, I don’t know, I mean your mom may not know —”

“Oh, she does, she knows everything. Daddy’s always saying my mama’s the biggest know-it-all you’ll ever meet. And hippo cat. Why would he call a woman a hippo and a cat?”

“Hmm.” Becky grabbed the side rail as the golf cart swerved back around towards the mansion, trying not to laugh at Lisa’s casual description of her parents. “I bet he meant something else and said it wrong, cuz you’re right, doesn’t make any sense.”

Lisa seemed to agree, nodding her head. And on to the next point of interest, her proud, confident tour guide voice explained that the house butted up to fence over there used to be her granddaddy’s.

They drove past the throng of fans at the front gate near the bottom of the hill they were coming up and Lisa asked Becky if she needed any money or a new camera. Becky wasn’t sure exactly how this related to the crowd, but she had some suspicions as she looked over her shoulder at the people mulling aroun down at the gate. So, instead, she rubbed the sweat off her forehead and complained about the heat.

Parking the golf cart back at the side of the house, Lisa led the way back inside, suggesting they cool down in the pool. Becky didn’t have a bathing suit, but jumped in wearing her tee shirt over underwear, letting her feet push off the rough, concrete bottom of the pool. She felt an almost instant sense of relief and rejuvenation as she sprung up weightlessly through the cool water and floated to the top, rubbing the chlorine out of her eyes. This was, of course, a futile exercise, as more chlorine water was in her face almost immediately, followed by the sounds of Lisa laughing from where she was splashing Becky a few feet away.

“Oh, you are gonna get it!”

Lisa’s screams ricocheted through the patio as Becky swam over, grabbed her and threw her playfully back into the water.

They raced each other like this for a bit, and then played catch in the water. Lisa particularly liked trying to aim directly in front of Becky, and shrieked with delight when Becky let the ball hit the water and then dramatically flustered about in the wake of the splash, uttering out a loud, affected:

“Now heyyyyy! That’s not fair!”

After a while, Mary brought them out some lemonade, and ham and cheese sandwiches, and they dangled their feet in the side of the pool, eating. Becky pulled the ham out of her sandwich, and Lisa opened her mouth, motioning for Becky to drop the cold cut in, chuckling.

“Hmmm, we make a good pair, huh?”

Lisa nodded, speaking with a full mouth:

“Mmmm choww nuhff.” She swallowed, and took a sip of lemonade. “How’d you get to be such a good swimmer? You don’ all kinds of fancy moves out there, I never seen anyone swim sideways like that or stay underwater so long.”

“I was on my high school swim team. Then I used to lead canoe trips down the Cahaba, that’s the big river where I’m from, over in Birmingham.” She ruffled Lisa’s hair. “And I was a camp counselor for a while in Mississippi, we spent most of our summer in the pool. I reckon I was a fish in my past life, that’s what Helga used to say.

“Your nanny?”

“MMhmm. You have a good memory, kid, I can tell. You’re whip smart.”

Lisa giggled and splashed Becky with her foot. Water was violently flying up in the air as they commenced in an epic foot splash fight when a loud, deep ‘Ahem’ made their feet still. Lisa’s lips were pursed, emitting a nervous laugh and Becky met her eyes with frightened giddy trepidation as they turned in unison to see the tall, broad silhouette of Elvis behind them. Becky coughed nervously.

His thumbs hung down from the belt at his white trousers and he tilted his sunglasses down to look over them, adjusting his stance.

“MMMM what's - a -a - ahappenin’ ova round these parts, mhmmm?” Elvis tried unsuccessfully to keep his lip from quirking into a smile as his voice boomed out comically deep.

Lisa giggled, and pointed. “Becky started it!”

Gaping, Becky pushed her into the pool with a whispered, “Thanks a lot, Lisa Marie Benedict Arnold Presley!” Then jumped up to say hi to Elvis.

His face beamed with a grin but then, as she got closer, his lip tightened and his chin tilted out as he took in her swimsuit.

“Becky, what the hell are ya wearin’, girl?”

Becky pulled her shirt down, and Elvis went to grab her hands to stop her, as it just made her nipples more pronounced through the thin, wet fabric.

“Elvis, I don’t have a bathing suit, I didn’t think it was that big of a differe—”

“Honey, I can see your hair through your panties,” he whispered gruffly, wrapping Becky in the thick, white, suede jacket he’d been wearing. As part of his outfit. Outside. In June. In Memphis. Becky rolled her shoulders, trying to shirk it off, looking into his eyes imploringly.

“Elvis, I’m all wet, it will ruin this suede and get it all dirty. It’s so humid, too, I just th—”

“Becky, don’t worry about the jacket.” He pulled her in, unable to resist flicking her over her nipple imself as he scolded her to cover up. “Anyone could see you out here.”

“Baby, no one is out here.”

“But they could be, boy, they could be.. ‘Sides, think now what if a band of drugged-out commie burglars jumped the back fence, and I, I had to send you running to safety at that motel across the street? You don’t wanna be waiting for me and the boys and the police in public like this.” He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Elvis, that’s ridiculous - what is the likelihood tha—”

“Now, c’mon on, you never know, it’s getting rougher every day out there. These are the things ya gotta consider.”

Becky was about to argue with him further, that he was being paranoid, and where did he even come up with this stuff, commie drug dealer burglars? She thought of Elvis doing some of the karate moves he had taught her as a band of crazy-eyed youths scaled the back wall, and almost giggled. However, she was suddenly distracted by the fingers tracing over her hips, underneath the suede jacket, and she shivered as she felt goosebumps rise up on the back of her neck, still chilled from the water. Elvis leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes with a low gasp, feeling his belly press into hers.

“Good thing you got me around to think of every angle.” Elvis clicked his tongue and point to his head. ”Go on upstairs and get cleaned up, wanna give you a tour of Graceland.” He patted Becky on the butt as he turned her to the house.

Shuffling forward in the comfort of her new mobile suede sauna, Becky heard Lisa pull out of the water and ask her dad if they could have a bonfire tonight with hot dogs and baked potatoes and corn and s’mores and coconut cake and ice cream.

“Course, baby, jus let Mary and Charlie know how you want it.”

Becky opened the door at the side of the house, she looked back to see Elvis kneeling and smiling as he wrapped Lisa in a towel.

“You’re the boss, booger, I jus’ work here.”

Becky could feel the brightness radiating from Lisa’s broad smile as she went inside, and she shook her head as she mused to herself how sweet they were together. The way Elvis spoiled his daughter was charming when Becky pushed aside her own parenting philosophy, which she had always considered to be overly permissive until spending this last week at Graceland.

She frowned at the prospect of having to parent with someone like him, and felt a sharp pang of sympathy for Priscilla, a woman whom Becky had always regarded as a bit of a cold Yankee. As if you could ever know what someone is like from reading gossip magazines, silly girl.

Getting dressed, Becky chided herself for not telling Elvis about her earlier tour of the estate. It was just that he had looked so intent as he told her what they were doing, and the sound of his voice gently commanding her made her agree with whatever he said, take whatever he offered, do whatever he wanted to do.

Yeah, a long term relationship with this man is trouble. Becky reflected on how relieved she had been when Lisa didn’t wake up and come get her until 10:30 that morning, instead of 8 a.m., like she had the first day, and felt a bit disgusted with herself. Ugh, Elvis’ lifestyle is warping your judgment. Sleep all day, play all night, and now I have to go pretend that I haven’t already seen the grounds of Graceland.

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

The dirt shifted under Becky’s Keds as she walked beside Elvis towards the stables, holding his hand as he squeezed it tightly and turned to look at her, eyes soft and bright as he spoke. Becky summoned a look of awe as if seeing the building for the first time.

“Right, now this is the House of the Rising Sun, on account of my horse, Rising Sun. Though I reckon I shoulda named him Setting Sun, because, ya know, that’s usually when I’m getting up.” Elvis looked at Becky expectantly, and she forced a giggle, leaning into him as they walked into the building.

The sound of horses’ snorting and whinnying greeted them, and Becky followed Elvis as he grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from the front counter and leaned against the white gate of the first stall, waggling his eyebrows at Becky as she cautiously stepped forward. He took her hand, unrolling her fingers and putting a piece of sugar in the middle, then clicking his tongue as the large palomino nuzzled into him, nickering and searching for treats.

“Now, go on, he won’t bite ya - much.” Elvis smirked, watching as Becky rolled her lips in and put out her hand, shrieking at the tickle of the horse’s chin hairs on her hand.

“Is this one yours?”

“MMhmmm, this is Rising Sun,” Elvis told her, turning to ruffle the blonde tuft of hair between the golden horse’s ears.

Becky cautiously stroked the white blaze down the middle of his face, stopping to rub his muzzle as he sniffed her hand for more sugar. She looked into Rising Sun’s large brown eyes, wondering how such a majestic creature could be tamed, and how quickly he would trample over her for more sugar.

“He’s beautiful. And terrifying.” She said, then looked up at Elvis. “Just like you, I suppose.”

Elvis’ fingers caressed over Becky’s dress, stopping at the small of her back to rub into her tenderly.

“Oh now, don’t tell me ya afraid of me, now honey. Or these horsies, are ya Becky Butt?” He moved behind her, his hand trailing slowly over her arm, down from her shoulder, until it was over the back of her palm. He slowly guided her palm up to smooth over the side of Rising Sun’s face and cheek, leaning into whisper into her neck. “See, now, now, see? He’s a good boy, gentle and well trained as can be. Ain’t got nothin ta fear from hims.”

Elvis kisses warmed her skin, and Becky shuddered as his lips crushed into her. Moaning, she dropped her hand and turned into him, biting her lip in anticipation as Elvis rolled back on his feet and then forward, pressing her into the white pole that separated the stalls. Rising Sun grunted at them and blew his nose, and Becky squealed at the feeling of his large, gummy mouth chewing at her hair. Elvis' mouth quirked into a smile, but his hand rubbed her side more intently, and a fierce, starved look animated his eyes.

“Get now, silly horse, that ain’t hay.” He gently pushed Rising Sun away, and pulled Becky into him, gripping her tightly.

A tingle burned in Becky’s belly and she breathed out in hushed desire.

“Huh. How - how does my hair look?”

“Looks a a a, a whole lot better than it's gonna once I’m through wit ya.” Elvis said softly, through a high breathy giggle. Then he looked down, bashfully, his hand rubbing Becky’s waist up and down then pinching her on both sides. Becky giggled, pulling herself into his frame, her hand working up over his chest as she kissed his jaw.

“Why, Elvis Presley, I declare, are you - are you trying to seduce me? In the barn?”

He shook his head, a goofy expression pushed his lips into a pout.

“Depends.”

Becky arched her eyebrow, her fingers toyed with the high blue collar of Elvis’ shirt. “Mmmmmm? Depends on what?”

Elvis withdrew, blushing, his jaw tightening, suddenly changing his mind from whatever he had been thinking about doing, “Neva mind, baby. Here, let me introduce ya to the other horses.”

Becky followed him, brushing her hand over the top of his belt and sweeping along his back.

“Ok darlin’, you’re the boss.” Pushing her hand around him, Becky leaned into Elvis, and he drew her tighter into his side, looking ahead to give a large, black horse a sugar cube.

“This here, now, this boy is special, this is Ebony’s Double, come from a real champion stud, Ebony Masterpiece.”

Becky put her hand up to the horse’s neck, feeling his muscles ripple under his silky black coat as she rolled her hand over him. Breathing in, her eyes locked with Elvis as she caught him looking down at her, and she thought about reaching up on her tiptoes to try and kiss him, but instead kissed his shoulder. It was easier, and she relished the way he squeezed her into him in response. His bottom lip dropped down with his chin, and his voice came out in a raspy croak.

“Hey there, lil’ girl.”

Becky nuzzled in, and shifted the rubber soles of her shoes to pivot and bring her closer into Elvis' chest.

“Hey,” she whispered into his armpit.

Elvis brought her chin up and leaned down, his hand moving to cradle her neck as she curled her fingers into his shirt. Gentle kisses became more fervent as his hands crept lower until they cupped her bottom and Elvis was holding Becky up. Notched above his tummy, Becky’s knees bumped up awkwardly against his elbows, and Elvis chuckled as he carried her towards the back of the barn, almost dropping her with a mild stumble. That would have been the end of the white suede suit. But he quickly recovered, grunting as he jostled Becky up and smiling at the sound of her breathy chuckles as she held onto his shoulders while they staggered to the back of the barn. Becky could hear the sound of horse’s hooves, grunts and neighs, but they were peripheral to the sound of the heartbeat pulsing through her ears.

Becky felt the edge of the workbench where Elvis placed her atop. They were at the back of the stables, next to a saddle presumably left for repair. Beckys legs hitched on either side of Elvis' body, and she dragged her thumb over his cheek, moaning out as his lips found that spot on her neck once more and his hands moved under her skirt, slowly, carefully, tugging on her underwear.

“Hey,” she murmured. Elvis cheeks reddened above a smirk as his dark blue eyes looked down at the ground.

“Hey,” he breathed out in a deep voice.

Becky fell back on the table, resting on her wrists.

“Hey.” she waggled her eyebrows and dangled her legs, then tightened them at his side.

He shook his head, unbuttoning his trousers and moving over her, his lips feathering above her as he whispered: “Heyyyyyyy.”

Becky gasped as she felt him thrust slowly upwards into her, moaning out into his mouth.

“Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

She wrapped her legs around him, rocking her hips to meet him in the slow, gentle cadence of their love making. His eyes narrowed on hers as his movements became more deliberate, and his thumb found the slick over her clitoris, swirling in time to their needy rolls back and forth over the workbench. Heat coiled in her belly, and Becky leaned back as a guttural cry escaped her mouth.“Heeyyyyyy fucking ohmygod heyyyyyyYYYYYY GODDAMMMIT” as her climax overtook her.

Elvis leaned forward, peppering kisses over her collarbone and burying his head in her bosom where he continued to slow move in and out of her until he came with a vehement grunt and remained there, head in her chest, panting through the final thrusts before stilling completely.

Becky relished the weight of his body pressing down on her, insistent, immediate, she wanted it to crush her forever. His shaggy swath of black hair moved as Elvis’ chin protruded forward, and she met his blue eyes, looking up at her from his smug, boyish expression. She melted in the radiance of his smile. “Hey.” Elvis blushed, again, then grunted as he pulled himself up and grinned at Becky’s playfully shove.

“Hey is for horses, Presley,” she gasped, and he laughed as he zipped up, bending down to restore her panties to their rightful place.

She wondered if she had made the wrong first impression on the horses, as they ambled out of the stable and back toward the house.

“Hmmm, so that was the tour huh?”

“I think that’s all the tour I can manage right now, lil girl.”

“OK, well, Lisa already showed me the smokehouse, and I’m definitely not having sex in there.”

“Hmmm, well, figured you should know by now, telling me something isn’t gonna happen just about guarantees I havta try.” He slapped her bottom and she shoved him away, only to have his arm instantly around her, drawing her into the warmth of his body as he kissed her head.

“Just so you know, Becky, I did not intend to get busy back there.”

Becky nestled into his shoulder as they walked. She could still hear the sounds of twenty horses behind them if she focused, joined by the sound of crickets and cars on the far off roads buzzing into the twilight of early evening. Above it all, she could feel the grain of Elvis' voice as it rumbling into her ear, heating the side of her neck with each word.

“I, I - I just, well, suddenly couldn’t help myself. Don’t feel that way very often, honey, I think - ” He stopped talking abruptly and turned Becky in to face him.

“Honey, now stop walking already, I’m tryin’ to tell ya something.”

As he looked at her, he noticed that her hair really had come half out of the up twist she had styled it in that evening, and he paused to take out her hair pins, freeing her curls and arranging them over her shoulders.

“There, better.” He nodded with satisfaction. “What was I sayin’? Oh yeah. OK. Here it is. I think I’m starting to really fall for ya, baby. I think, well, I think you should move up here. Can’t bear ta think about taking you back to Jackson next week.”

“This week,” Becky muttered, crossing her arms. “Sunday.”

Suddenly the buzzing, post-coital glow disintegrated and she stood still trying to process what he had said.

He took her shoulders in his hands. “Think about it. Didn’t you say you have a sister here in Memphis?”

Becky nodded, her mind still swimming, wondering if there was any way in hell she could, would, should pursue this. Looking up into Elvis’ eyes was like diving into a sea of endless optimism where everything was possible.

“Hey, I got a business meeting I gotta handle tomorrow night, maybe you could go visit your sister? I was thinking you probably would want to while you're up here anyway. And you can think things over. How it would be, if I got you a place up here, come live with your lil girl in Memphis?”

Becky stood there, nodding again, looking back down at the house. Elvis started to walk.

“Don’t just stand there woman, get in here. The most handsome man in the world just asked if you’d be his baby, least you can do is give him some sugar and say thank you.”

Becky leaned back into Elvis' open arm and kissed his chest. “Hmmm, just took me by surprise is all. I, um, I need to think about it, that’s a big deal, Elvis, I , well, I feel strongly about you too.”

She tickled his side as they walked, and he jerked back with a, *Hey, now.*

“You’re right, though, I should try and see my sister. Tomorrow night, I guess.”

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

6:15 p.m. Friday, June 20th 1975

Still at Graceland, for now…

It was one of the new dresses Elvis had bought her that week, a purple, jersey halter dress, that Becky pulled over her head, before asking Lisa to help clasp the simple, diamond drop necklace around the back of her neck. Lisa jumped back, and put out her wrists for a spray of perfume as Becky doused herself and twirled around.

“How do I look?” Lisa put her hand to her chin, thinking carefully.

“I think you need more eye make-up.”

“Ha, maybe, but trust me, my sister is the opposite of glamorous. She’s a judge. And I’m crashing a dinner party, so I think modest, simple, less-is-more sort of look is what I want.”

“Well,” Lisa sighed, ”you definitely nailed the less part. You’re hardly wearing any diamonds. Sure you don’t wanna borrow some of mine?”

Becky fidgeted with the ring she was wearing, the gift Elvis had given her that first night at Graceland. It was almost too large and gaudy for her style, let alone her sister Deborah’s taste. But it had come to be a comforting talisman, something she felt and twisted when she felt nervous or out of her element here with Elvis, doing whatever she thought she was doing. *Acting like an immature teenager who just discovered what sex is*, she thought to herself.

Becky also sensed Elvis would be hurt if he saw her without the ring, because he’d mentioned how nice it looked on her several times, usually taking her hand and kissing the ring there before turning her palm and kissing the center of her hand. And pulling her in for a kiss. *Ughhh, these kisses*. Even the way his dry lips bumped over hers at first touch caused a burning electricity to electrify her face and she became instantly incapable of reason.

Becky sighed, she had this impending sense of doom, her inner Cassandra, as Ida would say, always on high alert to call out trouble at the slightest provocation. Just trust him. This is fun. This feels right. Everything is ok. Wear the damn ring to Debbie’s dinner party.

Becky’s dress swished around her legs as she carefully walked down the staircase, trying not to trip in the orange platform heels Elvis had picked out at the boutique during a late night shopping spree on Wednesday. As she descended, she saw him whispering with Charlie, then the two men heard her and turned around, smiling in an eerie unison. Elvis was somewhat dressed up for his business meeting, in a dark red suit with a light blue dress shirt with a high, starched collar framing his face.

“There she is, Charlie. There’s the most beautiful gal in the world. And the smartest. And the funniest.”

Becky teetered on her platforms as she put her foot down another step.

“And the most graceful woman in the world.” He let out a low guffaw with out, and Becky narrowed her eyes at him

“Oh, keep laughing, Elvis Aaron Presley, I’mma get you for that. Buying me mile-high shoes an then laughing at how I walk in theses unnatural torture devices!”

Becky ran down the rest of the stairs and leapt onto his waist, ruffling his hair as Elvis chuckled.

“God, crazy woman, tryin’ ta kill me?” Becky kissed his forehead as he jostled her up and down, then placing her safely on the ground.

“Mhmmm. Just wanted to give you a kiss for good luck with your business dinner.”

Elvis kissed her back on the cheek as he ushered her and Charlie out of the door with a swat to the butt and a “See ya later, sweetheart.”

Charlie’s white Pontiac was waiting in front for them and they walked around, Charlie leading to open her door. Just as Becky was about to duck into the passenger seat, she saw the long, black snout of Elvis’ Stutz Blackhawk rolling up the driveway, Jerry at the steering wheel. Next to him sat the thin, blonde frame of Linda Thompson outlined against the dark, red leather interior. Jerry was a statue, stoic and serious as he pulled up and Linda burst out of the car to stride over.

“Charlie Hodge, you handsome man, where you runnin’ off to this evening? And who’s your friend?”

Charlie let out a shrill, high-pitched laugh, wondering to himself how Jerry had managed to arrive twenty minutes earlier than he had been told. Becky smiled awkwardly as she watched Linda give Charlie an air kiss on each side of his face, and then turned to Becky and her tight, wide forced cheerful smile.

Charlie stammered quickly, “Ugh, Linda, this is my cousin Becky, from Birmingham, come up to visit while her kid is at summer camp. I, ugh, well I -”

“He promised me I’d get to meet Elvis while I was here,” Becky gushed, summoning all of her energy to force her tongue to sound excited. She watched Jerry get out of the car and walk to join them. His lips were pursed, and his shoulders were stiff.

“Oh, well, it just dills my pickle to meet Charlie’s family, I feel like we’re practically family ourselves, seein’ how much time I spend with this good ole boy.”

Becky tried very hard not to tense up as Linda threw her arms around her to squeeze her tight. Linda wore a red, satin evening gown with cutouts along the side that emphasized her the curves of her sveltetorso and the wide hips below. Becky felt as though her tall, awkward fleshy figure and bust overwhelmed Linda’s body completely.

“Gosh, I just love that dress,” Linda exclaimed, adjusting the layers of Becky’s hair off her shoulder. “Though I don’t know if I could pull that color off, mhmmm, don’t know if that would be my choice, but it's so you, isn’t it?”

Becky smiled. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“So, Charlie, the old boy been behaving?” Linda winked at Becky, then whispered conspiratorially. “You know, Elvis is a good, Christian man, s’just that the devil is mighty powerful, hmmm, know what I mean?”

“MMMhmmmm.”

Becky nodded. It was like she was back in high school and one of the popular girls had waltzed up to her desk at the school newspaper, indirectly ordering her to do a story about the committee decorating the homecoming game bleachers. Ughhh. Becky steeled herself, falling back on the niceties that she was well versed in.

“I can’t even imagine! Gosh, it’s so exciting to meet you, I’ve seen your pictures in the paper and, of course, Charlie has told us about you. But you are just more precious in person, you really are.”

Linda gave Becky another hug. “Well bless your heart, Becky. Aren’t *you* the sweetest.”

Jerry coughed. “Hm, yeah, we better get going.”

Linda shrugged her shoulders. “Ugh, I know, we got this Police Charity Dinner to go to, I flew in from LA just for this. I guess the Lord saw fit for me to make it. And meet you! I hope I get to see you again while you are visiting, are you staying here? With Charlie?”

“Oh God no.”—“No she aint!”

Charlie and Becky both answered together. Becky smiled big again, hugging Linda one more time. From the big, wide-eyed puppy dog look on her face, Becky felt she seemed to expect it. “No, no, I’m staying with my sis - sorority sister from college, who lives here, we’re actually just heading there now, for dinner. In fact, we better scoot, eh cuz?” Becky looked at Charlie, and sat into the car.

Charlie closed the door, a big smile at Linda as Jerry led her up the steps into the house, and Linda waved goodbye. “I hope y’all have a the best night, see you again real soon!”

A tense feeling pushed up from Becky’s tummy and seized her shoulders in a tight anxious grip. It was one thing to know you were spending the week with a man who was seeing several women at once. It was another thing to come face to face with one and have to lie about who you were and what you were doing. Becky felt dirty, dirty and sick. She didn’t know how she could possibly face her perfect fucking sister, Deborah, and Debbie’s husband Steve, another lawyer, and the various lawyer professional type guests she expected to be at this dinner party. Charlie patted her thigh, seeming to intuit her thoughts, at least in part.

“Ya know, he’s not a bad guy, the boss man. He carries a heavy burden. And Linda’s moved out to LA to try and break into the movie biz. She had him buy her a home here in Memphis. It’s like they both know it’s over but neither one can bear to pull the trigger. And she knew how it was to date someone like him.”

Becky nodded, telling herself not to cry, and leaned against the window, hitting her head on the cool glass a few times as she swore under her breath at how stupid she was to be here. She muttered to herself in yiddish:

“Ugh, whenever you have choices, oy vey, my sheyna maidel, boy oh boy do you somehow always manage to pick the worst. Your picker is broken, that’s what it is. When you go home, you are turning your love life over to Ida and her yenta brigade. There is a reason they used matchmakers in the old country. People are incapable of making good choices in men when left to their own devices. Stupid, foolish, idiot girl!” She hit her head on the window one last time, and then realized they had pulled up in front of Debbie’s house.

Charlie rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll be out here waiting when you’re ready. I - he - I - he’s gonna be dropping Linda off at the other house. It was, it is, all part of the plan. You see, her brother’s in the police force here. It, ugh, it just made sense that she would be his date for this big charity ball fundraiser for the cops.”

Becky nodded, half in a daze, trying to mentally prepare for her sister, for the dinner party, and for Elvis later.

“Hmmm, yeah, no, totally makes sense, absolutely.” She breathed in, then looked over at Charlie’s apologetic face. “Wait, you’re just gonna wait here?”

“Yeah, the boss, he, well, he wanted me to look after you. On account of all the druggies running wild these days.” Becky nodded.

“Right. The drugged out commie burglars, those are clearly the biggest threat to my livelihood right now. Not Elvis Presley and his selfish manipulative ways. Not his powerful girlfriend, or her cop brother. Not my family and their judgment. No, no no, it’s the invisible commie drug criminals supposedly lurking everywhere. Well, thank god you’re here Charlie, I feel so much safer.”

She slammed the car door, knowing it was unfair to take it out on Charlie, but the look on his face when she bent to the window made her heart sink even further before she uttered one word of apology. Because his goofy, winsome smile told her she was not the first woman to yell at him like this. Not only did he seem to expect it, he had mentally braced himself for it. Becky’s face softened apologetically.

“I’m sorry, for that. I’ll try not to be more than an hour.”

“S’ok, we’re family now, cuz.”

Becky knew that Charlie’s smile was meant to be reassuring, but it made her stomach drop even more as she turned and braced herself for a night at the Hoffman - Blumfeld’s (very intentionally hyphenated modern family of the 1970s) Dinner Party.

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

To say the night was uncomfortable and embarrassing would have been generous. Everyone else at the dinner party was dressed in jeans, khakis or linen pants and some sort of comfortable blouse or semi-casual shirt, and Becky felt she stood out like a Vegas showgirl at a library full of nerds. Which was probably the best way to describe Debbie, her husband Steve and their social circle. She was grateful it had been Debbie who opened the front door, so she could walk Becky into the side room and they could make their flustered hellos alone.

Debbie wore a pair of sensible khakis and a tasteful floral button up top tucked in. As predicted, Debbie wore no make-up. And all judgment, though she tried to repress and be loose and fun.

Six years older than Becky, Debbie had always been half friend/half-parent to her, and this was a characteristic she inhabited calling out “Rebecca, please come in!” when she greeted Becky at the door.

Thank god for wine, the Hoffman-Blumfeld intentionally hyphenated household had some very good bottles of wine on offer and, after sipping one glass gracefully, and the another quickly in the kitchen, Becky was able to exhale and confront the evening with a blundering fort of confidence. She decided to pretend the meeting with Linda never happened, and stumbled confidently through her description of her relationship. She was dating a man who worked in the music business, after meeting him with Danny at a radio event fundraiser for the tornado in Mississippi. Was it serious? Well, sort of, he had invited her to Memphis for the week to meet his daughter, and he was trying to persuade her to move there. But her very successful life managing Saul and Ida’s store, and all her f.’

riends, made her reluctant to leave Jackson.

“I’m just taking a day at a time.” Becky winked and sipped her wine, before taking another mouthful of salmon.

After dessert, Debbie cornered her in the kitchen and asked if they could talk somewhere. Putting up her finger while she poured another glass of wine, Becky nodded and followed Deb to a bedroom, where she sat on a tasteful quilt blanket and had a tasteful restrained conversation about the impossibility of letting her father see Ruth secretly the next time she was in Birmingham.

“She is his only grandchild, Becks.”

“Well, they should have thought about that possibility when they kicked me out. Three months pregnant. Pronounced me a shonda, and disowned me.”

“Do you really want to have Ruth grow up without her grandparents?”

“I didn’t make that decision, Debbie, they did. Maybe, maybe, maybe if Papa was willing to admit how wrong they were, and stand up to Mama, and if he had any backbone at all and publicly welcomed me home for everyone to see, for Ruth to experience a true family, maybe.”

Debbie responded with a knowing look. “Well, I told Papa I was gonna see you when he called earlier, and I promised to ask, but I don’t blame you. I wish Ruth was here now, it’s been too long. And this guy, hmmm? Sounds promising. He wants you to move here?” Becky gulped her wine down first, rubbing her sister's arm.

“Yup, yes, mhmmm. Oh yeah, finally, right? Everything’s coming up Becky. I can’t wait for you to meet him, because I’ll definitely be back up here with Ruth after she finishes camp. Ah, yes, mmhmmm.” She downed the last sip of wine, smiling so enthusiastically she almost laughed at how absurd the charade was. “I feel like, ugh, finally, right? I’m finally getting that happiness I searched for, for so long. ”

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

“You are never going to find happiness.” Becky said to the fork of coconut cake as she brought it to her mouth, letting the sweet, sticky crunchy sugar do its work comforting her momentarily as she chewed it and swallowed it down with some chocolate milk. The door to the kitchen opened, and she jerked her head up to see little Lisa Marie poke her head around.

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, late night cake?” Becky answered.

“Have you been crying?” Lisa asked as she stepped closer, getting herself a plate and a piece of cake.

“No, honey, no, it’s just been a long day.”

“Is it cuz of my daddy?”

Becky shook her head, too vigorously perhaps. “Npoooo no nononoo. No. It’s just been a long day.”

“You’re a bad liar, Becky Butt,” Lisa said, taking a big bite of cake, and then rubbing Becky’s shoulder. It broke her heart to see Lisa’s genuine look of pity staring up at her as she tried to comfort Becky. “Why is he like this? Mommy says he ruins every relationship and he’ll never truly be happy.”

Becky laughed at Lisa’s matter-of-fact statement. “Oh, my dear, I think your mama is very wise, but who knows what the future will bring. I do know your daddy loves you, that’s a relationship that makes him happy. Trust me, my parents never openly showed me love the way I see him show you. He’s a good man. There are just some things I might do differently if I were him.”

Lisa looked up at her. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I’d carry around less guns, I guess, that's dangerous. And maybe wear less jewelry, probably out there blinding people with all those dazzling gems and diamonds all over his person.”

Lisa laughed out loud as she finished her cake, and let Becky walk her up the stairs where she tucked Lisa back into bed and then returned to the kitchen.

Becky was down on her knees, looking through the drawers under the phone when she heard the door behind her slam shut. Glancing up, she saw Elvis’ broad figure swagger slowly toward her in the dimness of the kitchen lit only by one of the lights under a cabinet. He sighed and stopped, hands bracing the front of his hips, spread out fully extending his fingers as they tapped a little ditty over the sides of his belly.

With his jacket pushed back at the hips, he looked even wider and more intimidating than usual. His lips were pursed in a frown at the sight of Becky in the jeans, converse and Destin tee shirt she had been wearing when she left Jackson the previous Sunday.

“Huh, hey.”

Becky turned back to look up at him. “Oh, hey!”

He adjusted his stance, pivoting his feet and twitching his left knee, his thumbs tapping over his belt.

“Watcha doin’?”

“You don’t know where the yellow pages are, do you? I’ve been looking for a phone book for the last fifteen minutes.”

Elvis sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. “Why, uh, why ya looking for the phone book?”

“Well, maybe you can help me.”

Becky returned her attention to the kitchen drawers in front of her, trying not to flinch as she heard the thud of Elvis boots walk closer and stop directly behind her. She chose not to twist back around and look at him, afraid she might cry or be dramatic, so she decided to speak directly into the drawers as she continued to look through them.

“You see, I’m trying to find a number for a local cab company, so I can get to the Greyhound station.”

“Mhmmm. I noticed your bag in the foyer.”

“Oh yeah, that,” Becky sighed, shutting one drawer and then opening another. “Well, you see, it just dills my pickle to be all prepared and ready to go when I call up a car to come get me. Although I had rather hoped I would have been gone before you got back, I didn’t want to bother you. But, since you’re here, maybe you can make yourself useful and help find the phone book?”

Elvis bent and leaned over the island that jutted out of the counter at the front of the kitchen.

“Honey, I have absolutely no intention a helpin’ you find a phone book.”

Becky stopped and fell back against the cupboard next to the set of drawers, her legs stretching out over the dark, burgundy carpet that covered the kitchen.She banged her hand back and closed her eyes.

“Why? Why can’t you just give me the phonebook?”

Elvis walked over and stood above Becky, his hand reaching down. “Cuz I don’t want you ta leave, honey. Not like this. C’mon, let’s talk. If you still wanna go home, why, I’ll drive you back to Jackson myself, like I promised.”

Becky glared up at his hand. “No.”

“What, you just gonna stay there on the ground?”

“Mhmmm.” She crossed her legs and her arms and tilted back into the cabinet. “Yup, yessiree. This is my home now, til I get a cab, I reckon.”

Elvis meandered over slowly and groaned as he lowered himself next to her on the floor. He moved his hand out to touch hers, only to be rebuked by their swift retreat back under her breasts in a huff of crossed arms and limbs. He rolled his neck to meet her gaze against the wooden cabinet.

“Honey, you are actin’ like a child. This is all one big misunderstanding. Now, c’mon.”

Elvis put his hand over her thigh, but Becky swatted it away, so he grabbed the foot she had criss crossed over her knee, and rolled into her shoulder as he scooted closer, squeezing her foot.

“Becky, look, you know I have other friends —”

“Girl friends, yes, I know about them, but apparently they don’t know about me. Do you have any idea how horrible that felt? Lying, looking at your beautiful beauty queen girlfriend, pretending to be Charlie’s cousin?” She pressed her face against the cupboard and let the tears come pouring out. “Ugh, I am so stupid, I know this isn’t me. I am not cut out to be the other woman.”

“Sssshhh.” Elvis put his arm around Becky’s shoulder, massaging her as he drew her body into his, bringing her head to nuzzle in his chest, where she gave up and grasped his shirt, letting the sobs come out as she cried into him. “Sshhhh. S’ok, s’ok.”

“No, s’not ok, ugh, I’m a horrible person, a traitor to my sex.” Her fist bumped tepidly into Elvis’ chest. She looked up at his chuckles. “What, why are you laughing at me?”

“Baby, you are too pretty to cry. Now, come on. Linda is not my wife, she knows it, I know it, things haven’t been going well and our relationship has been sorta peeterin’ out. But I have to do things my own way, ok? Her brother is on the police force, it made sense, right now, for me to take her as my date. But I swear, nothing happened. I’m here with you. At my house. Would I have a mistress at my house, where I lived, if I was keeping her a secret?”

Becky wiped her eyes. “You think she knows about me? She knew when she met me?”

Elvis sucked in his breath. “Honey, I don’t know, and frankly, right now I don’t care who knows. I-I, I didn’t wanna get into it tonight. But Linda knows well enough how it is with me. Look, I want to be with you, here, now. So let’s be together, and let’s go to bed.”

He said this with finality, and stood up, groaning slightly and steadying himself against the sink, and Becky followed, exhaling loudly as she pulled herself up on his outstretched hand and walked with him out of the kitchen, still sniffling and wiping her eyes into his silk dress shirt.

“Ok, but only because the floor was starting to feel uncomfortable. And I couldn’t find the phone book.”

Elvis smiled and Becky watched his cheeks twitch above the pout of his mouth, and she couldn’t help it, she led herself into his embrace.

“There now, lil girl, why you go get yourself all worked up like that?”

Becky looked down, blushing trying to just calm herself and feel good about making peace, or whatever it was she was doing. Giving in. No, you are having fun, she told herself. It’s silly to be upset over Linda, and was the use of fighting? This is a short, fun, little fling. Somehow his logic made sense at the same time that it made no sense at all. Becky’s head ached trying to sort it out, she decided that she was tired and exhausted and still a little tipsy, and needed to stop fighting and let herself fall forward into Elvis’ pliant, warm belly. He took a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and wiped her eyes, then softly pressed his lips to Becky’s mouth.

“Mmmm, baby, those are some salty lips.”

Elvis lifted his hand, thumbing over her lower lip slowly, it made Becky gasp and she watched him respond with a smirk. He leaned in slowly, and Becky shivered when he breathed on her, watching with anticipation as he licked his own lip and hesitated with a wider smirk before pressing his mouth into hers. More forcefully this time, his hands soothing up her sides.

“S’alright now, s’alright, no more cryin, ok, lil girl? Too pretty ta cry like this. Goin’ on and making my favorite lips all salty. "

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#no one walks out on big daddy #elvis presley #big daddy elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis smut #1975 elvis #banditqueenwrites

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aj1dordinary · 6 months

Text

GRWM to participate in a life or death brawl!

platonic!Johnny Cage x platonic!gen-z!reader; neutral!Kenshi Takahashi x neutral!reader; platonic!Raiden x platonic!reader; platonic!Kung Lao x platonic!reader; platonic!Lui Kang x platonic!reader

@one-green-frog @whore-of-many-hot-men xox

thank you guys for showing love to my very first piece! i look forward to providing you with as much content that i can pump out! now that i’ve essentially finished the general background info, I’m gonna try to follow the storyline as closely as possible while also developing the lore for !reader. bear with me pls! don't know about any relationships taking place, but that may change. anyway, enjoy! xox

“hey guys! welcome back to my channel! as you all know, johnny and i decided to take a little vacation in between some of his big projects. that doesn’t mean that you miss out on all the action though so here’s a quick little get ready with me in this rehab facility he checked us into!” you poke your tongue out and shoot a peace sign to the camera before turning it around and showing the beautiful scenery of the monk academy.

“y/n! check this shit out!” johnny wails, he began showing his improved skills by throwing punches at a wooden dummy and with an uppercut, knocked the head a good 5 yards away.

you whistle and track the trajectory of the dummy head with your phone. you’d managed to ration out your battery life despite filming and posting an abundance of johnny’s new life of martial arts.

johnny runs over after to see the video for himself and as you play it back for him, he notices someone looking on with great disdain.

“kenshi, man! I’m telling you, if you wanna piece, all ya gotta do is ask.” he makes a show of it by flexing his arms and posing as if he was back on the red carpet.

kenshi rolls his eyes and lets out a puff of air, “i dont want anything you have to offer, john.” he crossed his arms and turns his attention toward the other guys that lui kang recruited to be the power rangers of earthrealm.

you learned that kung lao and raiden were their names. you had to stop johnny from getting himself cancelled as he tried to make references to Godzilla when the men clearly were not of that origin. but they were cool people, you’d have to make a mukbang with them one day for sure. you paused, realizing you were no better in terms of geography.

“oh really? not even sentō?” speaking of being an antagonistic asshole, johnny removed the sword from his back and waved it around, trying to perform swift and severe moves as a ninja would. he made it a goal to make the sounds as well.

you just stood at the ready, phone already recording and the sound picking up the popping of bubblegum in the background. a week in and you traded in your black flats and pantsuit for the same training attire that the guys were wearing. you were by no means throwing any punches, but you’d be damned if you didn’t match for aesthetic purposes.

kenshi stopped in his tracks, “oh i think you done did it now, johnny baby…” you twirl a curl of hair between your fingers, lowkey focused more on the rippling muscles and raging testosterone that put itself on display for you.

“now, now. if there is gonna be a brawl of any sorts, its going to be the one that decides who our champion of earthrealm will be.”

“ahhh, the all-knowing, all-powerful always has such perfect timing,” you coo. “what’s hopping kangaroo?”

“ah, i’ve been managing the behind the scenes of the competition. making sure all is in order for whomever our champion will be.” he smiles genuinely before bowing before you out of kindness. you would be rude to not return it.

“which is totally going to be me.” kung lao says affirmatively before throwing his makeshift razor-hat. it passes just over your head before getting imbedding in the side of a building.

“watch were you throw that thing! you kill my assistant, you replace her!” johnny pokes at his shoulder.

“nice to know that you value and care for her…” raiden chips in.

“word.” was all you said in agreement.

“right…” lui kang claps his hands together, looking over the lively bunch in front of him. part of you wonders if he was beginning to regret his choice in heroes.

“as I was saying, today is the day. whoever comes out victorious in the matches will be earthrealm’s champion and will go on to battle against outworld warriors to defend the title. we will start with johnny and kenshi.”

“y/n, watch me beat his ass real quick.”

“best 2 out of 3?” you say as you join lui kang on the sidelines. he simply nods.

“round 1… fight!” you say before banging the gong.

“beat his ass, johnny! wooooo!” you jump and cheer from the sidelines.

“finish me johnny cage~” a robotic voice chimed from your phone. the sideline goes silent before you mutter a quick “oops” to check what the fuck just happened.

you’re accidentally livestreaming. the voice being someone who donated. well, gotta get paid someway. you turned the phone back on the action, watching as donors flooded the chat, saying how sexy johnny looked when he was fighting and the whole nine yards.

“chat thinks you’re so cool right now. don’t disappoint!”

and how could he? with a swift uppercut, kenshi called it quits for the first round while he regained his balance and strength.

“you’re not done yet johnathan carlton!” you call. he runs over as you take a gatorade bottle and squeeze the contents into his mouth and a little bit on your hands before smacking the shit out of him. “you get out there and you finish it!” he nods without a word before bumping your fist. when he turns to get back in the ring, you deliver a swift slap to his ass for encouragement.

“does that actually help?” raiden comments. he wouldn’t lie, he was tickled by the nonchalant relationship you and Johnny exhibited.

“nah. he just has a really nice ass.” you say, body language unwavering.

it definitely wasn’t helping. he was getting his shit handed to him this round. so much so, he tagged you in.

“whyyyyy am I here! i’m so quitting after this!” you scream as you block many of kenshi’s attacks. johnny, who claims he is just taking a breather, now acted as cameraman as he and the chat giggled at your attempts to evade kenshi.

lui kang had a smirk on his face as he watched the growing potential in you. Despite your obvious fear, you were evading kenshi’s offensive moves quite diligently. He eventually spoke with the goal to guide you.

“compose yourself, y/n. you’re bouncing all over the place, use that momentum for something else.”

you were desperately running out of air from running around the ring, but you couldn’t let up or else kenshi would deploy his frustrations about johnny on you (mmmmm). despite your fear, you heard lui kang’s voice and man, does this god have a voice of reason. you had to obey. so you placed your trust in it and stopped before quickly ducking.

In doing so, you felt a gust of wind fly over your head, surely a devastating blow from kenshi. you then turned and blindly threw a punch. surprisingly, you made contact, square in the middle of his chest. he gasped for air as the assault caused it all to exit his lungs and drop to his knees. he looked up at you with a fire burning in his eyes. you did not wait to continue and tagged johnny back in.

“now who’s the kangaroo?” lui kang smiled.

“you must think you’re so funny.” you respond, completely stale-faced.

johnny ended up losing the second round, before recovering and winning the final round. quickly though, he was thrust into battle with kung lao where he lost.

“a brawl between old pals,” you start. “how you feeling kung fu panda?” you put the camera directly up to his eyebrows on a 0.5x setting, getting an insane shot of his forehead.

“first, you’re no better than johnny,” you gasp. “second, i’m feeling really confident.” he finishes.

“and you ray ray?” you proceed to give him the same media coverage.

“i’ve been waiting for this day for a while.”

“oh he’s so gonna beat your ass”

and you should’ve bet money on it too as raiden came out victorious.

“so these outworlders, they hot? mutated? what exactly should we be expecting God-Almighty?” johnny asks but not without you delivering a swift elbow to his side for his crudeness.

“outworlders do have an enhanced strength compared to humans. some also have powers like me.” lui kang demonstrated with his possession of fire.

“so what’s raiden got that can go up against people like you.” kenshi spoke up, finally seeming over the bitterness of his loss earlier.

“i am always prepared. raiden, i bestow upon you the element of lightning. i ensure that it will aid you tenaciously. i am certain earthrealm will remain in good hands with you.” He hands the amulet over and raiden immediately demonstrated his new abilities by electrocuting the shit out of some training dummies.

“ok one, he just literally roasted the fuck outta y’all and two, can he charge my phone with this new ability.”

“can you be serious for one moment?” kenshi grumbled.

“oh im sorry, i thought someone who’s ass i kicked earlier had something to say?” you retort.

he was ready to respond again, but lui kang redirected the conversation.

“it is time. we must depart. outworld is expecting us.” he begins to move his hands in the same circular motion as before and another portal beings to open up.

“y/n! y/n! Look!” johnny points as if he was kid asking his parent capture his performance.

“i got it johnny, damn! it’s not like this isn’t my whole ass job.” you roll you eyes as you break your slowly dying phone out again. before entering the portal, lui kang turned to you,

“i trust that you won’t be getting yourself in trouble?” he raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor replaced with a serious one.

“don’t worry kangaroo, i’ll be doing the PR work for both johnny and i. count on me to clean up any mess these boys make. it’s all in the job description.”

his face screwed up in thought before he nodded.

“Let us show these outworlders what we are made of.” he led first through the portal.

-end-

I will update as much as I can but just know I am a college student with other commitments. bear with me!

#mk1 2023 #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #raiden #lui kang #kung lao #x reader #mk1 x reader #reader insert #shitpost #self insert #mortal kombat #platonic

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butterflydm · 8 months

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wot rewatch (book spoilers edition): 2x2

Additional thoughts that had too many spoilers to go into my earlier post will be found here. Spoilers for all the teasers and trailers, plus through book 13: A Memory of Light.

So one of the big questions that I have is: how much is Lanfear acting with Ishamael's knowledge and how much is she going her own way? Ishamael said in the Darkfriend social scene that he is still looking for Rand. If he's being truthful there (and he's talking to his minions, so there's really no point in lying), then Lanfear has not told him that she located Lews Therin.

2. I hadn't thought about this on my first watch, but @ladyofpembroke noted that Lanfear is probably in Rand's final dream in the next episode, so it seems possible that she actually has a hand in all his dreams. Constantly reminding him that he could kill his friends if he sees them again is a good way to make him want to stay where he is (with her) and not try to reconnect with his past life. Like any effective manipulator, she's keeping him isolated from his friends and family as much as she can.

3. otoh, we know from the books that being able to locate someone's dreams doesn't mean that you know where they are in the physical world, so this might be an Ishamael-influenced dream (I note that while Rand's visions of his friends has them wearing their S1 outfits, Ishamael is wearing his s2 outfit, which Rand hasn't seen), so this might be an Ishamael-influenced dream since he figures he might as well torment Rand in the dream if he can't find him irl.

4. Given that Rand is already hearing whispers, I wonder when the show plans to re-introduce Lews Therin to us in his own form. It might even be this season, if they wanted to make sure to keep a lock on the actor (or we might get another Age of Legends cold open -- though I note that we only had one cold open in this set of three episodes, though that might be because Rafe & co were aware that they would likely all air the same night so that might have affected their choices there - I'd love an AoL cold open where we get to see Lanfear and Lews Therin together).

5. So, did Rand find his way to Cairhien first and then Lanfear set up an inn in the Foregate to entice him to her, or did she set up her inn before he arrived and she figured out a way to lure him in? Either way, she's doing a much better job than the Lanfear in the books. She's much less suspicious than "random noblewoman who managed to appear in an unpopulated parallel world so that Rand could save her" and she's more subtle too. While the cringefail Forsaken in the books can be amusing, the threat level of the villains also helps tell you how seriously to take your protagonists, so I'm glad that they beefed up her threat level by actually making her effective. Right now, Lanfear is #winning on every possible level.

6. I love Errol because he serves several story purposes -- he's reminding us that Rand looks "like an Aiel"; he's serving Hurin's purpose in the story of giving Rand someone to look after and be protective of; he's teaching Rand sword forms because he was a blademaster; and he's giving us a bit of history about "the Aiel war". And the actor is quite charming. Plus he's used to show us both Rand's compassion and his need/desire to find mentors to help teach him the skills he needs. At this point in time, Rand does believe that he's defeated the Dark One and his nightmares are just nightmares but he does still want to learn how to protect himself and how to control himself.

7. We mostly hear indistinct whispers until Rand is walking down the hallway (it's the shot from the trailer) and it resolves into "Do you hear me? You are mine, Rand al'Thor." Which is very interesting. Our first inkling of Lews Therin? If so, it shows a greater awareness of Rand as a person than LTT's voice showed in the earlier books when it appeared in his head. I've speculated that this might happen, so I wonder if we're going to get more genuine back-and-forth between Rand and LTT than we really got in the books as a way of letting us into Rand's internal narration without him needing to pour out his heart to any of the characters around him.

8. I am actually loving Perrin getting Rand's plotline here -- it's working really well for him, being used to show us how Perrin can smell what happened in places so vividly that he's re-experiencing the past. I feel like if I didn't know this was Rand's original plotline, I wouldn't have guessed. It suits how they're exploring Perrin's character so well. I do wonder... Elyas speaks of Perrin experiencing a 'vision' -- I wonder if they're going to make the mystical side of being a Wolfbrother more distinct from what Dreamers do in this show version. Because it really was kinda... weird in the books how Perrin and Egwene are doing all this training in the same dreamworld but Perrin never runs across her or any of the Aiel Dreamwalkers, even once they're spending more time in the wetlands side of things.

9. The nailed-up Fade is used in the books to mark when Fain 'takes control' of the Darkfriends & Trollocs. I wonder here if it's meant to mark the moment when the dagger owns him more strongly than the Dark One does. Because the people of Shadar Logoth were not darkfriends -- and they focused on this in s1, too, because dagger!Mat is not a fan of the Fade that he meets in the farmhouse.

10. Love foreshadowing of Errol talking about "Aielman among us and no one bats an eyelash in the entire place" -- Rand is going to be bringing a lot of Aiel to the wetlands. I bet we're going to get to see some of these sword forms in the finale!

11. Liandrin does seem like she's becoming genuinely invested in Nynaeve. I like that (almost) everyone gets their own personal Darkfriend -- Nynaeve has Liandrin, Mat also has Liandrin (she's a hard worker!), Rand has Lanfear, Perrin has (remorseful) Ingtar, Moiraine has (double agent) Verin, Lan has (repentant) Tomas, and even Egwene gets a scene with Sheriam (who will get to be Her Darkfriend Among Us later on, if we're able to follow the books that closely when we get there), though she's not really the focus of Sheriam's attention. Everyone gets a little personal attention from the Shadow!

I like that Nynaeve gets rushed forward to the test for Accepted due to Liandrin wanting to teach her so badly. It seems more realistic reasoning than we get in the books.

12. Another big lie from Liandrin here about how Mat is here because they are "only observing" that the effects of the dagger are out of his system, which Mat immediately calls bullshit on. He's locked in a cell and only Liandrin is around -- that is not an official observation by any means. That's a prison. It's been six months. So I would put Liandrin's official lie count at two. Notably, she's only lying to Mat so far, who is both kept well away from other people and also doesn't really know as much about Aes Sedai (we know from Egwene and Moiraine's conversation in the woods in s1 that the people of the Two Rivers do not have the Aes Sedai oaths memorized).

13. My dearest, my darling, my deepest love is finally here! At the end of my reread, when I was ranking my favorite characters, Elayne was my number one favorite. Ceara is doing such a good job with her and the writing is also excellent. I love how many different sides of her we get to see in just these two episodes -- sheltered noble, awkward girl who grew up with no friends, someone familiar with the Tower but not familiar being a novice in the Tower, but a tinkerer (!!! so excited that they put this in so early) at heart and incredibly loyal and compassionate. I just adored her so much in these two episodes and I am looking forward to seeing more of her. I do really hope that, in the midst of all the chaos, that the show does manage to give her something of a meet-cute with Rand, even if it's less obviously romantic than the one in the books. But I'm really looking forward to more of her interacting with Egwene and Nynaeve, and hopefully meeting Aviendha and/or Min and/or Mat in the finale or before it.

14. I have zero issue with Sheriam not being a redhead. I think it's a good idea for the show to cut down on the number of redheads, given that Jordan says it's rare but then keeps giving us random redheads. Limiting the on-screen ones to the Aiel and the royal house of Andor seems like a good idea to me.

15. So first we got Perrin's letters last episode. Now, in this episode, Elyas tells Perrin that the soldiers he's with right now "are not your pack". While he could be talking about the wolves, of course, I feel like, as a viewer, that makes me think of the EF5 and how that's who Perrin belongs with right now. Especially after Perrin's letter talking about how he feels 'exposed' without the others around. Again, it gives me the hope that we'll get more moments of reconnection between the EF5 over the course of the show.

16. This moment with Verin is such a great one to look at knowing the truth of her situation. "Even oaths have loopholes one can exploit". She's the expert at it. Oaths are a bit of a minor theme in this episode and the next -- the loopholes and also, next episode, we're introduced to the Seanchan oaths where Perrin is, I assume, going to take the very reasonable position that a forced oath is not binding (which is the same position that Mat had in Winter's Heart but inexplicably abandoned in Crossroads of Twilight when he decided his accidental wedding vows were binding).

Oh! I knew I remembered hearing the words "Toman Head" in these three episodes but hadn't remembered it was Verin mentioning it! I thought it was noted as part of the Dark Prophecies but it's mentioned here as mainline prophecy. But the name is out there now. And this conversation also confirms "sword of flame" and "battle in the sky" for the finale, most likely, and a mention of a "branded hand" which feels like it confirms the herons. I wonder if Rand is going to use the same weave on his dad's sword that we saw Verin using at the end of the last episode for Tomas's sword. This may also mean that it's using that weave that burns the herons into Rand's palms?

17. The Rand and Lanfear scenes. Wow! But, yeah, I wonder how much her non-reaction to his bloody knuckles struck show-onlys. She doesn't ask him what happened, who he beat up. She just kisses his bloody knuckles and sweet-talks him into bed.

18. So far, we've heard/seen three separate form of violent teaching in the White Tower -- the unnamed woman who beat Moiraine to make her channel (likely Elaida); Liandrin's behavior with Nynaeve; and Sheriam telling Elayne that she'll be switched. Both Liandrin and Sheriam, of course, are Black Ajah. But from Egwene's reaction here, it doesn't seem like being ordered to be switched is anything close to the common punishment that it seemed to be in the books. But we'll see!

19. It does occur to me that Gawyn (maybe Galad too) might already have been in training with the Warders even if Elayne wasn't a novice yet -- Elayne has been spending her summers in the Tower and it's entirely possible that Gawyn's training to protect her meant he was sent off early to start learning from the best. We don't get any hints in this episode or the next about her brothers, but we're pretty focused on her developing friendship with Egwene.

20. "Min is in Tar Valon" and "Min and Mat share a plotline" were my two most hoped-for options for Min's storyline for this season, so I'm happy about that. I do wish that Min had been given a chance to bond with Elayne or Egwene but, hopefully, there will be time for that later. But I really love the set-up we've been given where we are going to explore Elayne with Egwene and Nynaeve; Min being more fully-explored with Mat; and then Aviendha when she enters Perrin's storyline. All of them are getting fleshed out as individual characters before any of them get romantically involved with Rand. I am feeling pretty hopeful that we're going to get our polycule (and a genuine polycule, not a harem) in the upcoming seasons. They've been putting in a lot of "poly relationships are valid and complex" groundwork in and it looks like they are going to be making sure that all of the characters involved get to be full characters who have their own agendas and their own arcs.

Some people on reddit are still pretty disappointed that Min isn't the male-gaze fantasy that she is in the later books but I have been thrilled with the changes that the show has done so far with her. We also maybe get a hint here that Min is going to be canonically bisexual by the way she jokes about Liandrin, so I will cross my fingers on that.

20. Min's viewing! I do love that they're massively cutting down on the number of Min's viewings to focus on ones that are interesting and relevant. This one is particularly interesting because there's nothing like it in the books. Mat stabbing Rand, then cradling him as he falls.

Theory #1: this is a flicker-flicker world (maybe we only get one big one?) and it's not Our Mat stabbing Our Rand but an alternate one.

Theory #2: Rand asks Mat to fulfill his promise to keep Rand from going mad and that's why Mat stabs him.

Theory #3: Rand loses control of himself (like Lady Amalisa in 1x8) and Mat stabs him to try to get him to lose his hold on the One Power.

Theory #4: Mat gets placed under compulsion (which would be another reason for him to want protection from Aes Sedai and channeling).

Theory #5: Mat gets The Dagger again and he's the one who gives Rand the wound in his side, while under its influence.

Theory #6: It's metaphorical and Mat takes the place of Alivia and helps Rand 'die' at the end of the series (seems unlikely but I'll throw it out there).

And probably lots of other things I haven't thought of. But it definitely shakes Min to see it.

I wonder if she only agreed to help Liandrin after this moment or if she'd already agreed and this is just additional incentive. I don't think she's told Liandrin anything about Rand. She was able to keep that secret from Moiraine even under blackmail so I think she kept it from Liandrin too.

But I do love that we get a viewing that connects Mat and Rand together, even if it's through a traumatic encounter. I am a simple soul who finds messiness intriguing.

21. Lanfear! Talking about her broken heart to the man who broke it and who she is, even now, doing her best to groom back into the man that she wants. The layers in this conversation are exquisite. When she tells him that he can't hurt her, she also can say that because she has a strong grasp of what she can do with the Power while he's still stumbling in the dark. Ooof, but Rand was (unknowingly) on risky ground when he confirmed that he does sometimes think of his past when he's with her.

Also, talking about how "no one else" could ever have power over her heart now that her previous lover is gone... when she's literally talking to his reincarnation. The conversation is just so rich and so sharp and there's so much of it that is going over Rand's head because he doesn't have the necessary information to even begin to put the pieces together. "What's left to hurt if he still has my whole heart?" she says, to the guy in question. "When I'm with you, I can pretend you're him." YEAH. I BET YOU CAN.

22. So I wonder if Moiraine's threat here to Lan, that she would let Alanna take his bond if he didn't let her leave on her own, is going to be the extent of the "Myrelle" plot point that Alanna absorbs and it won't actually happen in fact. But now it's out there as an idea that Warders can be forcibly bonded so that when Alanna forcibly bonds someone else down the road, the idea isn't coming out of nowhere.

23. I was so shocked when the Seanchan attacked in episode two. I was thinking this would happen in episode five. But once I sat down and thought about it, I realizes that Perrin has already hit all the main points of the Hunt for the Horn storyline on his side of things (and even partly on what Rand would have been doing). We've found the traitor and had Ingtar reveal his sympathy towards said traitor; we've found the Fade and the moment when Fain started playing by his own rules; and we've even been exploring Perrin and his senses. This does mean that we're going to have a lot of potential time to explore the Seanchan invasion and culture.

24. I don't have any issues with Ishamael openly being Suroth's advisor vs someone covertly giving Suroth her marching orders. High Lady Suroth is a Darkfriend and always was. We're just taking it out of the shadows and showing it openly to the viewers (and Perrin).

I do wonder if Perrin specifically seeing the Shadow and the Seanchan so entwined will have an impact on his later storylines. That I wonder about. But the later books were, tbh, really weird about how low-impact the Falme encounter ended up being in the long run for pretty much everyone except Egwene. Min basically forgets she knows anything about the Seanchan even when that information could help Rand, everyone forgets about the environment of paranoia and fear that the Seanchan created in Falme, etc. There's a lot of weird forgetfulness going around, especially in CoT & KoD, when Jordan wanted to sell us on his slaver romance.

(the way that the show has been improving characters like Min and relationships like Rand/Lanfear does give me a lot of hope in how they will handle Tuon and the Mat & Tuon 'romance' and that they'll make it better than the poorly-written dumpster fire that it is in CoT & KoD)

#butterfly watches wot #wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot show spoilers #wot prime spoilers #wot s2 spoilers #wheel of time s2 spoilers #wot book spoilers #wot 2x2 spoilers #a memory of light

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hubristicassholefight · 6 months

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Swordswoman Showdown 3rd place

Camilla Hect (The Locked Tomb) vs Brienne of Tarth (A Song Of Ice and Fire)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Camilla art by @friendamedes, used with permission

Propaganda below cut

Cam

trained w a rapier & knives. practical. handsome. extremely efficient and capable.; she’s my boyfriend and I love her. Please vote for cam she is my life

Gideon Nav uses one very large sword in defiance of the expectation that a cavalier should use a rapier, but Camilla Hect instead uses two. Just as much defiance of social expectation, twice as many blades. The reveal of her specific brand of swordiness is the heart of one of the book's most iconic lines: "Cam? Go loud."; In the spirit of the laconic charm of the Warden's Hand I will simply say "Camilla's competent."

She prefers two short swords but has been know to wield a rapier and other such bladder instruments; She also loves to organize spreadsheets

Go loud.

Brienne

gets gifted a sword made with the rarest metal ever because she’s THAT good; she’s simply the best

Brienne is one of the top sword users alive in her day. She's descended from a man who's catchphrase was "I'm better with a sword." Better than what? You. Jaime Lannister. Loras Tyrell. Any five given guys at once. She has a fantastic sword that might be magic or cursed and is named Oathkeeper because that's what she does; I love her

Beat like 20 guys in a tournament when she was 19. Was given a magic sword. Won a sword fight against the premier swordsman in the realm. Very swordly; Very tall and strong. Holds her sword in high esteem. Accomplished with other weapons as well!

She's defeated multiple of the top knights in the series in duels. One such knight gifts her the fabergé egg of swords and she uses it to defend orphans and stuff. Got out of a bad betrothal by dueling him and beating his ass so bad she broke multiple bones. Honestly there's so much more she is the swordswoman of all time. to me; She's buff and ugly and 6' 5" and so honorable and kind that she inspires the guy who fucks his sister to yknow. stop doing that. literally gets mauled for the sake of protecting a bunch of orphans (with her sword). also she's 20 she should be at the club ‼️

One of the best sword wielders in Westeros, the author says he would pick her to defend him. Has a cool sword called Oathkeeper. Manages to go up against 7 fighters and take out most of them,. The only true knight; First off, talking about book brienne, they massacred show brienne, the show runners simply didn’t understand what she’s about.“ She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice” brienne had plenty of choice but she couldn’t leave people to die. The chivalric paradigm is rotten and corrupted, but here is Brienne, the one true knight, who isn’t even a actual knight! “knights are for killing”, but here is a knight who risks her life again and again to protect innocents! Bri IS hope, she is the light in the dark that shows that things can be better, things must be better. Fundamentally an idealist: “Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining”

#BRIENNE WON A MELEE WHEN SHE WAS 19 !!!!!#DONT LET HER LOSE

#MORE LOVE FOR BRIENNE#SHE FOUGHT A DAMN BEAR WITH A WOODEN SWORD#SHE AVENGED A MAN UNJUSTLY MAIMED#SHE PROTECTED CHILDREN AGAINST SEVEN MEN#NO CHANCE AND NO CHOICE

I'm going to put some propaganda for Brienne, because she deserves the world.

Some people have been quoting the "no chance, no choice" in the tags, but for those that don't know it comes from this scene:

...she could hear the faint clink of swords and mail from beneath their ragged cloaks. She counted them as they came. Two, four, six, seven. (...) Brienne sucked in her breath and drew Oathkeeper. Too many, she thought, with a start of fear, they are too many.(...) Brienne tried to keep the fear from her voice, but her mouth was dry as dust. The children, she thought. The door to the inn banged open. Willow stepped out into the rain, a crossbow in her hands. The girl was shouting at the riders, but a clap of thunder rolled across the yard, drowning out her words. As it faded, Brienne heard the man in the Hound’s helm say, “Loose a quarrel at me and I’ll shove that crossbow up your cunt and fuck you with it. Then I’ll pop your fucking eyes out and make you eat them.” The fury in the man’s voice drove Willow back a step, trembling. Seven, Brienne thought again, despairing. She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice. She stepped out into the rain, Oathkeeper in hand. “Leave her be. If you want to rape someone, try me.”

This is basically one of the most badass and awesome moments of the series... because here, Brienne is not guarding a King, vanquishing a great Evil Lord, or fighting a big glorious battle... this is an inn full of orphans being attacked by raiders, children whose lives really don't matter in the great scheme of things. If they were all to be killed, nobody powerful would really care, no history book would write their names.

The logical thing is to run away from there as fast as she could. And yet, Brienne decides to enter an unwinnable nightmarish battle (one where she gets her arm broken and her face eaten) because is the right thing to do. She is a true knight.

Because, in the dark pseudo-medieval world of Westeros, where the patriarchal martial system reigns supreme, there is no space for someone like Brienne, she herself said it best:

"You have a noble father who must surely love you. (...) I know he would tell you that he would sooner have a living daughter than a shattered shield." "A daughter." Brienne's eyes filled with tears. "He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. (...) I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son or daughter."

And yet, despite being on the fringe of this society that doesn't accept nonconforming gender expression, despite not being able to be named knight, Brienne is still the embodiment of the ideal of knighthood. She is a true hero, who over and over decides to defend the innocents and do the right thing.

So yeah, my conclusion here is... I think she and kiku should kiss <3

#camilla hect #the locked tomb #brienne of tarth #a song of ice and fire #finals #round 6 #official #poll #swordswoman showdown

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precious-little-scoundrel · 4 months

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Twenty Songs Challenge, written after being so lovingly inducted by the powerhouse that is sweet Mey, @the-ugly-swan . Challenge being to choose twenty favorited songs and write one shots based off of them with any pairing or fandom of my choosing. Being a weirdo and a little burned out in my own created universes beyond the fics already in works, I chose what currently inspired me most, obscure as it is.

Pairing: Henry “Hotspur” Percy and Lady “Kate” Mortimer Percy -early 15th century

Fandom: RPF, Shakespeare? Tom Glynn-Carney’s 5 magnificent minutes of a performance as Hotspur in <The King 2019> the armor alone was amply inspiring. The Hollow Crown fans feel free to imagine whoever, as you like. I love this historical pairing in about any iteration and the plot is drawn from both Shakespeare’s play and real history, the timeline, plot and politics being pretty self explanatory through the incorporated dialogue. NOTE- wordplay ahead with “cur” and “Kerr”, the latter being a Scottish clan holding great enmity with the Percy Family and charged with holding the Scottish side of the border. Also I kept Lady Percy’s name as “Kate” even though it was technically Elizabeth in the records.

Dynamic: a rough northern lord and his too good for him lady -a lady who has, through years of an arranged marriage gone horribly well, come to find his homespun gallantry and blunt ways more than a little intoxicating when knelt before her in amused deference. She could almost find it in herself to be gentle with him -if he hadn’t just started a rebellion whilst away from her at the Capitol.

Dedicated to my wifey @prompted-wordsmith who I did proselytize into the Percy cult one fevered evening with inestimable results, including her contribution of a few choice lines herein.

🕯As it Was ~ Hozier

“There is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved

Never I'd had life enough

My heart is screaming out

And in a few days I would be there, love

Whatever here that's left of me is yours just as it was”

Warnings: 18+ to be safe. a small amount of sexual content, flirtations, a husband and wife touching in public, verbal sparring and talk of making children and use of the word “bred”, swearing, use of the words “cock” and “cunt.”

The sound of hooves in the courtyard rouses Kate from her anxious stupor by the hearth, toilsome grain list forgotten on her lap. The scroll swishes to the floor at her abrupt standing, wafting out of her path as she rushes to the window.

First the clatter of a single, foremost, over-eager rider, followed at a lag by his retinue, skilled riders all and armored as befits the guard of a nobleman. They make such a clatter in the yard when they come in after him. Some petty part of her briefly considers the tactic of staying here in their chambers in protest, a quiet sign of disapproval with his errand, of discontent with his brusque leave taking two weeks agone.

Her Harry would find her anyway, and like it better that she were in their chambers. He would like it well she were so near the bed and like it ill she slighted him in her dutiful welcome -but he would not speak of that. Not one for speaking much, her husband, not on matters that plague her these days, weeks, months. Kate might have it out with him in the old way and slap him about and toss cold quips and get from him little more than the same benign aggravation and good humored laughs between, a couple dozen kisses to her neck and a grapple in the sheets.

That is what talk they would undertake were she to stay up here.

It is that lone, eager, forerunning clatter of his horse that speaks to her, speaks for him. Just as his sword and his reputation and his gruff graciousness has spoken well of him across these northern lands, his eagerness to return to her, to outstrip his men in haste to be back from his fool’s errand and into her embrace -it is all the declaration of devotion she may expect from him. It is the truest form, without jape lacing his tone or tonic of lust clouding his confessions.

Harry Hotspur, as fast to return to his wife as he is to meet a fight.

It is love, of the sort she has grown to be grateful for, and it is that and fear of losing it besides, that rushes her out from their chambers and down the polished steps, out to the great hall and past the giant outer doors, cursing a lousy servant or five and ordering a bath and commissioning supper and refreshments as she goes. The torch flames bend from her flight, a whoosh and a shadow stalking Alnwick Castle’s stone passageways until the gray light of evening pours into her sight from the opened great doors. Squires and stable boys clutter her path but they part as she dashes, nay, only a dignified hasten now, out into the courtyard where nearly all of this fool’s troup have dismounted.

There are doffed helms to the Lady Percy, the jangle of chain mail crinkling with bows and scraps of deference all around them, but she sees only him, with mist dripping on his nose and a face too boyish for the insolence he has returned from discharging.

“Kate.” he utters.

Will ever he say her name lazily? She hopes not, for that alone she will endure the unwarranted cheerfulness with which he greets her on this dire occasion. She has heard it said in anger, in jest and in passion, vows and quips, praise and warning. And now in cheerful pleasure as evening mist soaks her gown and the heavy clunk of her husband's footsteps clang ever near her on the paving stones.

“Lord husband.” she greets, hands folded over her freshly healed womb.

His stride falters and he rocks back on his spurred heels, an arms length away, an embrace so tangible she can see his jaw tick from the watering of his mouth. “Lord husband is it?” he repeats thoughtfully, eyes drifting down to the paving stones for a brief moment as if to recollect some forgotten crime, they flick up soon and in them is jesting scrutiny, “My lady wife rushed all this way, down five corridors and a furlong of Keep only to greet me thus?”

Did her rising breath betray her eagerness? Could he see her in the hall despite his business dismounting?

“Your cheeks are red.” he shows her mercy, some form of it. His form. “But -Lord husband, it is, nevertheless?”

“Unless you would prefer ought else?” she inquires, he had once thought this smile quite chilling, he had admitted after their first babe, now he finds it rousing, he has admitted after their third.

“If it please you.” his shifting stance is noisy, his tabard and sword and still clutched helm a racket of accouterments in the pattering rain.

“I have any number to offer,” she concedes, stepping nearer, a lady’s step, covering one third of the ground between them that he might vanquish in a single stride. Still, he waits. “Knucklehead.” she whispers, her breath a fog and her insult as lost as vapor in the ears of his watching men, her bearing alone must satisfy their curiosity, as must his growing smirk and rising color, “Jackenape.” Another step until each little scar on his face is visible and the little canyons each raindrop make of them. She saw his finger twitching where it grasped his visor “Cur.”

There was the slightest flinch between his brows at that, a furrow that smoothed as his mirthful lips flattened out. “Careful now, lady wife, with words like Kerr* thrown about, my men might think you presumptuous, their lady gone and married to some other, a Scottish laird at that. So sure of my death already, sweet Kate, that you must speak of Kerrs in mine own yard? Ha, ‘pon my word you are qu-“

“Hush!” Her hand, fresh warmed as it was by recent hearthside and rich velvets pressed frimly to his lips, a tingle shooting straight to her toes at touching him at last. He was silent then, only the puff of breath against her fast chilling fingertips. “Tease me not so,” she begged, her own mirth gone out in her eyes, her arch look turned to grief, “not when you are just returned from an errand all but ensuring such an end. It is too cruel, even of you. Handle me kindly, Percy, as you always have, in words this time, if not in embrace.”

He seemed to ponder this before raising that hand not occupied with his helm, clumsy and clad in gauntlet as it was, to her wrist, wrapping the chilled and layered steel round her pale flesh and gently tugging her hand from his lips, only so far as to press it to his cheek instead, their audience of men at arms unheeded. “I betook myself to London,” he enunciated, as if it were their first night all over again and his thick borderland drawl too strong for her courtly ears to decipher, “to remind a king of his debts.”

“And tell me!” she cried fiercely, a choked, barely quieted protest as her hands dug into the wet leather of his jerkin, wrist twisted from the steel grasp, “What errand is that but a fool’s? Have you no fear at all left in this bruised carcass? Do I patch up an animated corpse time and again from your wars only for it never to have soul and feeling and wisdom in it? Do I, Harry? Gone to remind a king? How do you dare such?”

“It is he who has dared too much!” he cried back, loudly where her’s had been choked, a ringing and rebauld defense, worthy of a man who would chastise his monarch in full view of council. “First his debts, and now my son’s land! We did not make children so as to watch like blithe cowards as their birthright is bequeathed out from under our feet -piecemeal!- to a courtly cunt whose only recommendation is his alacrity to pucker and bow.”

Kate glanced about her at the men making show of industry, piddling at harnesses and armaments, walking horses in circles. Her husband's words could be no worse than what he had said to the King’s own face, anyone without stomach to become a rebel would have stayed behind in the Capitol, sensing dissension brewing. Lady Percy could perceive none missing from his number. So, a war it was to be, then.

“So, a new generation of Percys is to play at kingmaking.” she summarized.

“We make no boast of it.” Harry protested in turn.

“No,” said she, “why would you with how poorly your last choice has served you?”

That caused a start from him, a step forward that was neither gallant nor eager but angry as man to man. Kate, still with hands fisted in the crooks of his armor, stepped with him, backwards to his hall. “It is your brother with the better claim.” he showed his plan at last, a slow and conniving admission, one not common for his brash ways and straightforward mind.

Kate gasped at the implication. “Edmund?”

“He was proper heir, all along.”

“Your father-“ she chose her wording carefully, “-did not agree.”

“My father’s preference is not law.”

“It is mistaken for such, often.” Kate smirked in reply. “And Edmund is not suited-“

“-Edmund is not the turd now stealing from his vassals!” her Harry rejoined, his helmet pressed to her chest, “Edmund will do.” he reiterated once more.

Kate stared at his temper, the signs of it in his flaring nose and his wild eyes, the cure was between her thighs but watching mist drops fall from unblinking lashes was sweet prelude indeed. “Edmund,” she replied quietly and in a manner to be heeded, “is not willing or suited, he prefers instead to listen to welsh bards and lay upon the lap of his savage wife.”

Her Harry rolled his eyes at her truth, an admission, or the closest to one, she would ever receive. As if battling some great inner turmoil she watched him purse his lips and heave out a sigh before in a sudden movement the helm was tossed to the ground -much to the scramble and reaction of a half a dozen squires who ran to pick it up from its puddle- and suddenly steel hands were upon her hips, tugging her near to him even as she shied away, her face turned in a pantomime of demureness. “Strange,” he said and his tone suggested he still pondered her report of her brother's amorous preoccupations, “-and her lap so less Devine than mine own wife’s.”

“Then why do you haste from it so often?” she whined, delivering a smack against his belted tabard, right where the lions paraded across his right breast.

“Only a man dying of thirst appreciates that water has a flavor.” he reasoned and Kate allowed the open mouthed kisses that crept down her neck, her face turned stubbornly still to the south wall. The blacksmith's roof will be in need of new thatching soon, before spring. Before war.

She feels stubble against her tender skin, bracketing those pretty lips she once derided him for. No warrior ought to have lips like that, it was not seemly, not when maidens were denied such richness, such fullness, such rosy hue. But there is roughness about his lips and on his jaw as it tucks into the juncture at her shoulder, that show of clavicle her dress allows drawing him in like a siren’s song. He must’ve rode hard the entire way, no inns or refreshment, no shaving or baths, straight to her as from a battlefield. The King’s city is just as loathsome as any field of carnage, but he went to free her brother, to get a ransom, to reclaim their stolen land, to remind a king.

He did it for her, and the babes she gave him.

Kate turns her face from the blacksmith's thatch and raises her hand to his face, tenderly stroking the three days' beard that's grown as he's been on the road, riding hard to get to her. They have backed nearly to the hall’s mouth, the drip of rain off the gutter patters behind her on the threshold, Kate knows he can smell supper and hear the clatter of their children racing to meet him on still chubby legs. How different is the love of home, man to woman, Harry would sooner fight for it and she would cower within. Her thumb swipes at the raindrops making farce of tears upon his cheek.

"Princess," he breathes against her palm as he crushes her into his chest, still half armored and agonized for it as he cannot feel her softness with the cuirass, the leather, the chainmail. There are curves and bosoms and soft flesh he knows too well just on the other side of this awful barrier.

Princess will be her title if his treason succeeds, if her brother wears that cursed crown. “Princess”. It sours her mouth, but it is kind of him to wish it for her.

"You will come back, Harry.” she commands of him, she declares the outcome of this brewing war, “Soaked in the blood of feckless scum, you will come back and put another babe in me. A little prince or princess," she hisses in his ear, and she can tell he freezes at that, her concession to his treason, still as stone in his metal casings.

His eyes are ever so blue as they search hers.

"So I forbid any recklessness, my Lord Husband. Because I want this - " and her hand slips beneath his jerkin and the hem of mail to squeeze his cockstand most assuredly, as assuredly as she was that he would be sporting one for her, gripping it as one might grasp a chalice of wine during a toast "- and the rest of you, in one piece." Harry slumps against her shoulder, panting into the chilled hair and too heavy for her little frame. "Or so help me God." she intones, sharper than any steel he wields. "Swear it, Harry." She gives him another punishing squeeze, and he groans, agonized, as his mouth meets with the softness of her bound bosom, his knees the hardness of the stone cobbles. If she hadn't promised a use for his cock, he'd think she was liable to geld him herself at his presumption to seat and unseat a king, but now that he is out of her grip, for a moment, and looks up at her with such longing he fears his soul has left his chest for hers.

"So help me God." he agrees, it is in providence’s hands, after all, and in Kate’s clasped one’s atop his head.

“Fool.” she says once more as she bends over him, gently pressing a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face to her belly and her chilled fingers to his sopping hair, “It is not my brother these men fight for, nor for me. Not when it is you that calls them to it.”

“For what then?” He mumbles into her womb, hands heavy on her hips, the courtyard’s occupants dispersed into the shadows of the eaves, but a couple dozen peering eyes twinkle towards them in the twilight’s gloom.

“How often have I heard it said here, in this very courtyard.” Kate scoffs, observing the strength knelt so adoringly before her, “Have I dreamed each cry of ‘no prince save he be a Percy?’ Ha, to think they fight for a Mortimer, indeed. Ha!”

Harry staggers to his feet at this poke, it is, as are so many of his Kate’s wounds, half torment, half praise. His blood pounds with the elixir of her acknowledgment of his capability. “It is well then, Kate Mortimer,” he recites, daring now to put his lips very near her own, to nuzzle his strong nose with her hawkish one, to tip a chin and bat an eyelash against her wet cheek, “it is well that you are Percy now yourself, through and through, wed-“ his lips meet hers in a brush she chases after, “-and bred.”

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

Hope all five of you who read that enjoyed it. 😆 I know it’s a fragment but as I’m nothing but hyper fixated when some interests resurrects in me, I’ll probably be back with more of them. Drop a note below if you’d like to be on a taglist for such developments.

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teenage-mutant-ninja-freak · 11 months

Text

Tarot readings with the lads!

Leo

You've somehow convinced him to let you do a tarot reading for him

you're still not sure how, maybe the mixture of puppy dog eyes and veiled threats combined?

anyways, you ask him what question he has

"I want to know how to be a better leader"

but that isn't *fun* so you pick a different one for him

you shuffle the cards with your intention of "What is Leo lacking that he should focus on more right now?"

you pull out the 6 of cups

Leo looks at you like "Is that good?"

you explain the card

"You see the way they're handing the cup to a child? This card is all about revisiting the past, childhood memories and innocence. It's about simple joys and pleasures also cups represents the element of water, to be free flowing and not so confined"

"And this helps me be a better leader how...?"

you smile and tell him that's not what you asked

"Leo, the cards are telling you to relax a little, spend some time with yourself and not so much worrying about the fate of the world. Be present, find that child in you who wants to do dumb, fun shit!"

he doesn't say anything but he thinks on it

"Anyway the next card was temperance so that's basically saying if you don't listen to me you're never gonna find balance...."

Raph

Yeah there was no way he was going to let you do a reading

you had to trick him into sitting down but once he saw the cards he tried to leave

you swayed him and his only request was "Just don't ask when I'm gonna die or some shit, ok?"

instead you do a reality check for him and you pull out 3 cards

The star, 4 of swords and 5 of wands reversed

"oh, baby.." you start

he's so worried

frantically asking what any of that means, so you break it down for him

"the star's message is: have faith. Hope, faith and purpose basically. You need to understand that you're doing alright, no matter how much you beat yourself up. 4 of swords is about rest and relaxation, taking a break. You work yourself too hard out on patrol, then come back here and hit the gym, then you barely sleep and do it all over again. You;re burning yourself out. Finally, 5 of wands. Reversed it talks about inner conflict, self doubt and tension. Whatever you're battling with, you need to face it and let it out"

"well shit, I didn't expect your cards to fucking call me out like that..."

you're just like "It's what they do..."

he opens up to you a little more after that and takes a bit more time for himself.

Who would have though Raph's healing journey woulod begin with a witch telling him to get his shit together?

Mikey

He's been begging you for weeks to pull some cards for him

and he wants to know everything!

like everything, even the scary stuff

you finally give in and he can barely sit still he's so pumped when you pull the cards out

you ask what energy he brings into other's lives

the lovers, page of wands and 6 of swords

"what does it mean?!"

"well, the lovers is obvious. You bring a lot of love to the people in your life. You're the heart of your brother's. That's self explanatory"

"Awh, your cards like me" he's getting cocky now

"the page of wands is about being a free spirit, inspiration, ideas and limitless potential. Basically you keep everyone entertained with your never stopping pin balls machine of a brain"

"I am the ideas man of my brothers"

you let that one slide, no need to remind him of the time his "idea" to defeat the foot clan involved gummy worms....he was thinking with his stomach.

"And the 6 of swords is about transition and change, a right of passage, release like releasing baggage. I think this one's saying you haven't met your full potential of how you can help people yet, but you are destined to help people"

"wow. Really? Damn you're good"

you take the compliment, you are good at this.

Donnie

it's not that Donnie doesn't want a reading or find it interesting

it's that he just doesn't believe you can tell him anything new...

so you pull out a few cards on his behalf anyways

just to tell him a little more about himself that he doesn't realise

10 of wands reversed, strength and 3 of swords reversed

you follow him around for like 10 minutes after explaining the cards

while he's doing the dishes you're all "so the 10 of wands reversed is about doing it all and carrying a burden that you need to release it can also be defined as stubbornness!Come on, Donnie, that's so you. When you aren't working on whatever Leo gave you in the lab you;re spotting Raph in the gym or you're indulging Mikey is one of his fantasies, you need to stop carrying your brothers wants with you and live for you!"

He's trying to get his bunsen burner to work and you talk about "strength is basically the message believe in yourself.but it's also about compassion. You have so much of that that you never give to yourself!"

finally he turns to face you "And the last card?"

"3 of swords reversed is the most important. It's about negative self talk and releasing pain and forgiving yourself. I know you think you hide it well, but I can tell you beat yourself up over every little thing. You need to stop that"

He takes a minute to think

"Ok, maybe there is something to these cards, or maybe you're just interpreting them that way because you know me. Either way...Thank you. This was helpful"

#witch series #witch s/o #witch so #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tarot #tarot cards #tmnt h/c #tmnt hcs #tmnt h/cs #tmnt headcannons

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blonditarot · 3 months

Note

Can you do the reading about skz opinions on renewing their contracts in 2025, please?🥺

I wish they all renew contract or at least continue group activities.

Will Stray Kids continue as a group?

I see a clear yes. They’ll continue as a group, but they might try something new. Something that will require them building something from scratches. It’s similar feeling to the one I had when someone asked me about their recent comeback. It’s gonna be something we would expect from a kpop group.

Stray Kids thoughts on renewing their contracts in 2025

Bangchan: ace of cups - he’d love to, he’s all in, but the ace is represented by number one, it means a start or a new begging, he wants to try something new, I also heard my babies. I don’t mean it as the rest of members, it’s about his work and his fans. It’s his child, he does what he loves. He won’t abandon it.

Lee Know: 4 of cups rev, the world rev, the star - he wants to renew it, working as a group makes him happy, but he probably wants to think about himself as well, he’d like to start a solo project, to have something on his own,

Changbin: 5 of pentacles rev - he’s not going anywhere, the members of Stray Kids were there for him through the dark moments in his life and helped him get over it, not just emotionally, financially too, they’ve build something together, he’s too attached, he doesn’t want to leave. To confirm if he wants to stay in the group I got 3 upright cards so that’s a strong yes.

Hyunjin: light of swords rev, the devil, page of swords rev - Hyunjin might be the one that isn’t 100% sure if this is what he wants. He could get contracts that are way better from the one from JYP. Contracts that wouldn’t restrict him, that would let him explore more, try new things, because with that light of swords rev I see he’s loosing his energy. He has the right direction but he lost his motivation. Hyunjin wants everyone to shut up and leave him alone. He recognizes those contracts are fake, that those people don’t care about his art, they care about the money. Everyone is trying to advise him what to do and whisper into his ears trying to manipulate him, to buy him. He hates it.

Han: 4 of swords - he doesn’t want to think about it, it stresses him out, he’s trying to stay calm and doesn’t let negative thoughts into his head,

Felix: 6 of swords rev, six of wands - he doesn’t want to leave, Felix thinks he still can gain a lot from being a part of Stray Kids but it’s not just about money, he doesn’t want to leave because he likes it, he isn’t able to move on from the past, he wants the Skz to last for eternity. He’s comfortable there, despite the negativity he faces.

Seungmin: the judgment, 4 of swords, ace of cups - recently he started reflecting on this, somebody had pointed out he should make up his mind, and I don’t think he has to think too much of it, with the ace of cups he wants to renew the contract. He know it’s supposed be something new and exciting but being in Stray Kids is natural to him, he doesn’t think of it, he takes it as granted,

I.N: this one is complicated so first of all I got 3 upright cards so that’s a yes, he will renew the contract but his thoughts are complicated. I got 5 of swords, 3 of pentacles, 10 of cups and the ace of wands to clarify the 5 of swords. He feels divided. He’s not in conflict with the rest of the members, although he does feel competitive. As if he feels he has to prove himself, that he is good enough on his own, that he is a valuable singer, not a filler. Over the years he experienced hate and neglect, his ideas are often put aside, Jeongin feels like he’s in the shadow of more popular members. It might have been rough, he might argue and get in fights before but he loves Stray Kids, they’ve built so much together, they grew together. He got so much out of meeting them, they’ve became his family, his support. But he doesn’t want to be ignored anymore. He knows he has potential. Jeongin wants to create something new, he wants people to finally appreciate his work. I’d expect a solo from him.

#kpop tarot #stray kids tarot #stray kids #bangchan tarot #lee know tarot #changbin tarot #hyunjin tarot #han jisung tarot #felix tarot #seungmin tarot #jeongin tarot

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nocturnalfandomartist · 1 year

Text

💛 I Remember You 💛

Time Elapsed: 1 hour, 11 minutes

Program used: Ibis Paint X

(This doodle is me coping with the Tears of the Kingdom trailer and pretending they aren't about to be traumatized more).

BotW/ToTK will forever be my favorite version of Zelink. They've been through a whole lot together, and seeing them reunited at the end of BoTW is so sweet (especially in the context of the diaries outside of the English translation)! Such a shame everyone's probably dead. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted...

I cannot express enough how agonizing it has been to wait for more news on TotK! So when I saw a Nintendo Direct was coming up, I was unable to focus on anything else. I knew we were bound to get info, but I was NOT READY FOR THIS

Everything about that trailer was so well done, it makes the wait for May seem even longer! A few thoughts I had personally:

1. Ganondorf is pretty decent casting. I'm admittedly surprised he doesn't sound hoarse or anything considering he's a reanimated corpse, but it's still menacing!

2. I'm convinced Ganondorf and Zelda are going to take the forms/powers of Demise and Hylia at this point with all these parallels...

3. POSSIBLE MORE RUNES MAKE ME SO EXCITED! We thought Link getting a motorcycle gave us too much power... Now we have cars and mechanical gliders.

4. It doesn't seem Zelda is getting damseled! That makes me so happy. I figured she wouldn't be playable (unfortunately), but it at least seems she'll have a presence throughout the story! Perhaps a Skyward Sword situation where she must go on a journey of her own? Maybe in the form of flashbacks to the previous Zelda from 10,000 years ago? If it goes with a SS route, maybe that leaves room for a playable Zelda in post-game.

5. All the monsters look stronger than before, and there are even new ones! I tried to see if those dino bird things matched up with any classic enemies, but they didn't seem to be so. Either way, they're awesome!

6. I can't wait to explore where all the characters are after a potential time skip. Zelda especially! She got so much character in BotW, and I am going to love seeing more of it!

7. If Zelda doesn't end up becoming Hylia, I'm also wondering if the previous Zelda ends up being revealed to be the same one (same with Link) due to time travel shenanigans like in Skyward Sword.

8. If Zelda and Link don't kiss or address Zelda's feelings for him at least once I will be very sad (but I'll love the game anyway).

9. I hope to see the cycle broken here. That seems to be where this is leading! It would be great to watch Zelda and Link finish off Demise's curse once and for all and finally have the peace Hyrule has been fighting to have for eons.

10. Hopefully Link's diary won't be lost in translation this time! Adding those little details like that made BotW even better than it already was.

11. LINK THREW THE MASTER SWORD ASIDE TO CATCH ZELDA I CAN'T- But poor Fi. Hope she's doing okay with the whole Malice infestation thing. This is a stretch, but perhaps there will be a return of Ghirahim or his sword form. That'd be cool.

12. It looks like there's potential for more old-school dungeons! With the Divine Beasts seemingly inactive, Link may have to travel through monster-ridden ruins to drive them out of Hyrule.

13. I'm excited to see details on the time between BotW and TotK, like how Zelda got her hair cut! It'll be nice to see which NPCs changed and which haven't (Beedle is probably the same and will be the same even as all of existence crumbles around him).

14. Maybe the memory mechanic will be implemented again by Link recalling his past life 10,000 years ago?

Alright, sorry for the ramblings here. I'm too excited. I have lots more thoughts, but I'll share them in the future. May 12 can't come fast enough!

Reblogging is fine, but please don't post this anywhere else without linking the original post. Thanks!

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teecupangel · 4 months

Note

IDEA

Disclaimer: Fantasy Life (a 3ds game) is relatively unknown and I doubt that you know it. If you do, tell me please I have put 164 hours into this game and have no friends who know it. If you don’t, just ignore this ask, the story and game are complicated and don’t waste your time trying to figure it out for a tumblr ask. Backup question: what’s your favorite dinosaur?

Now, Fantasy Life idea:

Desmond AND Altair, Ezio, and Ratonhnhaké:ton all wake up in Fantasy Life in the place of the pov main character.

I think Altaïr would go for an Alchemist life before pivoting to do all the crafting ones. Get level 15 dagger skill so fast tho.

Ratonhnhaké:ton i think would initially go for Hunter life but mayyyybe the Wizard life would draw him in. He’d also be the most well rounded in terms of weapons even if he thinks it’s bullshit he can’t use a high level sword and shield.

Ezio im honestly not sure about. He might go for Paladin for the weapon style but I could honestly see him wanting to be a gatherer life instead. Or maybe a crafter.

Next to Ezio, Desmond would still probably switch the most. I have zero clue what he’d choose first he’d probably choose something out of panic at first and end up an Angler or smth lol.

During the story: Ezio tries and fails repeatedly to woo Yuelia, you can’t change my mind. Desmond finds it hilarious that he died due to problems with the Sun and now he’s having problems with the Moon. Altaïr is somehow the one keeping them all on track but also is the highest leveled in any and all of the skills he’s focusing on. Somehow, some way, impossibly, Altair makes a philosophers stone before they even make it to Al Maajik. Ezio is thrilled when he sees the Azure Rose and Rose Shield and uses them even if he has access to better weaponry. Ratonhnhaké:ton gets a dog from all three regions. Desmond immediately realizes they need the home in the Shopping District to hold all their stuff. Desmond unlocks the majority of the Bliss. Desmond at some point becomes a Cook. At least for a little bit.

I’ve got more but I think that’s enough.

I did not know about this but, considering it’s a Level 5 game, I am not surprised. Level 5 games tend to go under the radar with word of mouth being their best source of publicity (unless you get a super hit like Ni no Kuni).

It does remind me of Rune Factory a bit though. I would have tried it but the 3DS shop is already down. Oh, there’s going to be a new game for the Switch though, apparently, so we’ll see XD

I think you’re spot on with their life choices, especially Altaïr. He looks like the type of person who would craft lots of bombs and chuck them all to the enemies with his team wondering if this is Altaïr’s way of destressing and if they should be worried? Altaïr would probably try out Blacksmith too considering he did reworked the Hidden Blade and created the Hidden Gun. Did he recreate them in this world as well? Yeah, probably. It’s Altaïr.

No notes for Ratonhnhaké:ton, could totally see him going for Hunter first before branching out to check the other lives just to get a feel if any of them would be interesting in his eyes.

Ezio would go for Paladin at the start until he realized that he didn’t have to focus on fighting anymore. Sure there was the whole ‘the world is in trouble’ plot going on but he’s not alone in this and they have allies they can rely on. Ezio would change to something more chill like a Woodcutter, Angler or Tailor. He’s trying out the more chill lives to see which one he would enjoy and he’s happy that being a Farmer isn’t an option because he believes farming would just remind him of how much he misses his family.

Desmond would pick Mercenary first because Ezio had already picked Paladin and Ratonhnhaké:ton picked Hunter so he thought he’d pick the last remaining combat class. He doesn’t know magic so he didn’t pick Wizard. Also, he expected Altaïr to pick Wizard and Altaïr picking Alchemist is what made Desmond slowly start to realize the same as Ezio, that he doesn’t have to pick a ‘combat’ life. Sure, the first time he started to cook was when Altaïr invented protein bars (wtf) and Desmond needed to put his foot down because he is not going to eat protein bars for the rest of his life (Ezio was still in his Paladin phase). The reason why Ezio didn’t pick Cook is because Desmond eventually settled on a Cook life because he enjoyed cooking. There’s a kind of control in it that he didn’t have before and, also, this way, he can be sure his ancestors actually eat (especially Altaïr who tend to forget he needs to eat when he’s in a middle of experimenting).

I feel like in the end of this entire thing, Altaïr would have managed to recreate an Apple of Eden (which he just throws at Desmond because Desmond is a cook. Desmond is offended and wanted to hit Altaïr with his frying pan) and the Armor of Altaïr (which he gives to both Ratonhnhaké:ton and Ezio).

(Feel free to add more. I read TvTropes for this one hahahaha)

(I think it would be Archaeopteryx mainly because they’re supposedly around the size of a magpie and looks like the midway point of a dinosaur and bird looks like.)

#ngl i was thinking of atelier games alchemy when i was writing alchemist altaïr #and that made me think of altaïr as the main character of #an atelier game #atelier altaïr and the apple of eden #lollol #oh shit #i remembered i had a plot for an atelier desmond XD #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #fic idea: fantasy life #fantasy life

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mirai-e-jump · 5 months

Text

TV Guide Dan Vol.49, October 2023 Issue ft. Kamen Rider Gotchard Cast Members Junsei Motojima x Yasunari Fujibayashi Interview (translations below)

Publication: October 20, 2023

"You two are currently appearing as rivals in "Kamen Rider Gotchard." Would you please describe each other's role?"

Motojima: Kurogane Spanner, played by Yasu-kun (Fujibayashi), is a cool and mature kind of character. If Houtarou Ichinose, who I play, has the mental age of a 10 year old, Spanner would be that of a 25 year old. I think it's interesting that they're rivals.

Fujibayashi: Well, they're rivals, but I'd say that Spanner is overwhelmingly stronger.

Motojima: No, I don't think so! In episode 3, Spanner loses to Houtarou.

Fujibayashi: He didn't lose.

Motojima: It was Houtarou's win!

Fujibayashi: Ahaha! Since the details aren't clear, we'll leave it up to the viewers to decide (laughs). Houtarou, played by Junsei, is a true to life version of Junsei, or rather, he's just as he is. He's mischievous, an airhead, and a lively person! Gotchard is Junsei's first full time acting role, so he's got alot of room to grow. I think you'll enjoy watching Junsei's growth and development alongside that of Houtarou's.

"What's the relationship between you playing these roles?"

Fujibayashi: We get along really well, huh?

Motojima: Yeah. Also, when I was having trouble with my acting, Yasu-kun would give me advice like, "Try this kind of movement here," so I really appreciate it.

Fujibayashi: I don't have that much acting experience either, and I'm not in a position to give advice, so I'm just saying what I feel from an objective point of view. Junsei has his own unique style, so he's able to express it through his acting.

"What specific scenes do you think Fujibayashi-kun's advice helped improve?"

Motojima: The one in episode 3…

Fujibayashi: Ah! The scene where Houtarou and Spanner fight with shinai's in the dojo?

Motojima: That one! For that scene, we read the script over the phone the day before filming, and before we shot that scene, we talked for about two hours in the waiting room thinking, "If we did something like this here, wouldn't it turn out better?" I never learned how to sword fight, so Yasu-kun taught me how to swing a sword.

Fujibayashi: It was really difficult to move around while saying those lines. But, both of us were determined to make it a great scene. We practiced holding umbrellas instead of swords while saying the lines. In that scene, I personally thought, "Junsei's so amazing."

Motojima: Eh! Where, which part?!

Fujibayashi: There's a scene in the dojo fight where Houtarou did a jumping head butt toward Spanner's stomach, and I thought such an attack would be absolutely terrifying and painful. Actually, Junsei squirmed the moment the footage cut to that scene. Still, I believe that the viewers could feel Junsei's determination to put his body on the line and his passion for the show. In that sense, episode 3 became an important episode for us.

Motojima: It's a scene that we absolutely can't leave out when talking about this show. Also, there's a scene in episode 5 where I did pro wrestling. I had to act as if I was in pain when I was subjected to a technique, but I didn't know what it was like when a person really feels pain. So, I asked Yasu-kun, and he told me, "When people get hit in the lower back, they arch their body and feel the pain."

Fujibayashi: We actually hit each other on the back of our thighs to see how we would react (laughs).

Motojima: That's right (laughs).

"In contrast to the relationship between Houtarou and Spanner in the show, we can see that you support and get along well with each other during filming, do you also hang out in your private lives?"

Motojima: Next time, all the cast members promised to go to an amusement arcade!

Fujibayashi: It's just a plan though. Everyone's schedules don't quite match up….However, everyone's made good progress and have become friends. Besides, I feel like the two of us will have a relationship that lasts a lifetime.

Motojima: Oh~! That makes me happy!!

Fujibayashi: Junsei's current "weapons" are his freshness and his will to "Just give it a try," and he has the most important passion for an actor. I myself have my own pride as an older person. I'm confident that we can maintain a good relationship as acting rivals even after this production is over.

Motojima: Yeah. I hope we can continue to improve each other through friendly competition.

Fujibayashi: It's still early in Gotchard's story, but looking ahead to the ending, I'm already kind of sad! But, I'm really looking forward to Junsei's growth.

Motojima: Oh, I appreciate that.

"By the way, do you know each other's views on love?"

Motojima: We talked about love once before, right? On a train ride home after filming, I asked him, "What kind of person is your type?" It was because I was curious (laughs).

Fujibayashi: If I'm remembering right, Junsei's into pretty girls, right?

Motojima: Yeah. I think Yasu-kun said that was the type of person he'd fall in love with.

Fujibayashi: That's right. Also, I guess Junsei likes quiet people.

Motojima: Yeah, I like quiet people.

Fujibayashi: I like cheerful people, so I don't really have a type at all.

"How do you go about approaching someone you like?"

Motojima: I feel like I'm a proactive person. For example, as a student, I might ask someone, "Would you like to go to the cultural festival together?

Fujibayashi: That's good! But, I'm as proactive as Junsei. I also reply to LINE messages very quickly.

Motojima: That's right, you're really quick.

Fujibayashi: Without messing around, maybe I would straight up ask her, "Let's go out to eat!" and start meeting up more often.

Motojima: I see. I really want to talk on the phone with the person I like. I'm aiming to do a "fall asleep phone call" (he awkwardly laughs).

Fujibayashi: What, that comment was too cute!

"Now then, please tell us about the benefits of becoming your lover."

Fujibayashi: Since I can speak English, I can take you on trips to various countries!

Motojima: Eh~? That's not fair! I definitely can't win against that! But, I can play the guitar. It would be nice if I play and she sings.

Fujibayashi: You're going to make her sing?! Isn't it about Junsei playing the guitar?

Motojima: Ah, I want her to listen!

Fujibayashi: Well, you know, Junsei's really cool when he plays the guitar! He has a very soft expression…When I saw Junsei's guitar video, I was so moved that I couldn't help but send him a LINE.

Motojima: Fufufu~ Well then, I'll play the guitar for you. On a beach overseas!

Fujibayashi: No, you don't have to compete with my English (laughs).

"In the future, If you were to co star in another production, what kind of production would you like to appear in, and what kind of relationship would you like to play?"

Motojima: Houtarou is also a second year high school student, so I'd like another school story.

Fujibayashi: Junsei can still play student roles. I think I'm limited to playing a college student…

Motojima: But, I'm also a college student, and it would be nice to play college classmates. It'd be fun to compete with each other for lovers!

Fujibayashi: I'd like to fight as two historical kings. Something like, "Romance of the Three Kingdoms."

Motojima: That sounds good, I want to try it!

Fujibayashi: Junsei in the form of a military commander…Hmmm, his dark face would suit it…maybe?

Motojima: Yasu-kun also has a dark face, right?

Fujibayashi: I had the opportunity to wear a wig when I performed in a 2.5D musical, but I have thick eyebrows, so I sometimes have to clean up my eyebrows with makeup. So, as a member of the "eyebrow tribe," I'm alittle worried about Junsei's eyebrows.

Motojima: Eyebrow tribe (laughs). But, I really do hope we can co star in a historical drama someday!

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: i’m not ready to let go of this fic so i WILL be continuing it into the dance of dragons and i’ll be separating it into two parts. part one should conclude in what i hope to be 5 or less more chapters. i’ll be following the show plot bc that’s easiest for me. so that unfortunately means once i get through what’s happened in the show so far this book will be postponed until the new season comes in 2024 :( also- i heard all of you guys!! y/n will be claiming cannibal later in the series.

and i apologize for the weirdness with her father- after i decided to expand on this series, i decided to leave that conflict out. kinda a messy ending, but i’m eager for daemyra and reader to solidify their own family.

and btw guys it’s still me i just changed my username and stuff 😭

warnings: incest, swearing, violence, kinda sex tbh, mentions of death, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twelve- Silk Sheets

—-

Jace admits Lady Y/N confuses him.

He knows the facts- he knows that his mother and Daemon clearly feel some affection towards her.

He thinks back to their time in Kings Landing, when he saw Daemon with his hand on Y/N’s thigh and his mothers arm around her chair.

He remembers hearing a scream, muffled, coming from the other wing of their apartments. He remembers the banging on the door, and then the silence before screams of pain. They were unfamiliar. He remembers sneaking out of his bed, past the guards roaming the halls to look for something, he wasn’t sure. He remembers his mother crying, before bringing Lady Y/N into her arms. He remembers her calling the Lady “my Y/N.”

He remembers the special attention, the red dresses, the longing looks.

And he notices.

He notices how his mother and Daemon insert Y/N into their lives, scheduling bonding time with each of the children. He notices how his mother always makes sure Y/N is there.

His siblings are already entranced with her. Lucerys worships the ground she walks on, Baela proclaims Y/N to be her best friend, and Rhaena always draws her attention with soft words and nimble sewing hands. Joffrey and Aegon adore her as well, although they are too young to truly understand what is going on.

Jace does not know how his siblings have surrenders to her web. Does not know how his parents have. Does not know why he feels the webs clinging to his skin.

But now, she only watches him with fire-bright eyes. She does not carry their name. But fire burns in her, and Jace would be a fool not to see it.

He parries and blocks, rallies and ducks. He evades the wooden sword of the non-descript guard, feeling Lady Y/N’s eyes on him.

It is a blur of movement- an empty brain, devoid of thoughts about Aegon and Aemond and the rest of the Hightowers. His ailing grandfather. His poor aunt, who is subjected to a life with Aegon. How the crown already weighs heavy on his mother’s shoulders and she does not even have one yet. How one day that will be his.

He isn’t sure he can imagine it.

Baela at his side, Jace and Rhaena in Driftmark. Joffrey will be with him, of course. He needs a cupbearer if he is to be king. He likes to imagine Aegon will be a fierce warrior.

His grandparents dead. Daemon dead. His mother dead. Uncles bitter about their lack of power.

With a grunt, the knight yields. Jace’s sword at his throat. Lady Y/N claps.

Jace is burning under the spring sun.

—-

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised how grand Daemon and Rhaenyra’s chambers were- much less the rest of Dragonstone.

Sometimes you forgot they were as powerful as they were, that the commanded the skies and the sea, the earth and the wind. They had thousands of men at their beck and call- to fight for them, to die for them.

Knowing that Daemon and Rhaenyra had all of that power at the word of a raven made you feel better about the letter from your father.

The two had wasted no time in furnishing their room to become yours as well. A bookshelf on the far wall, the comfiest chair next to the fireplace, tapestries of your choosing on the walls. It was more of a home then your room at Chambers Manor ever was.

You let your hand stretch over the silk sheets, blood red. Your hand splays, fingers dig in, making that scratching sound that makes a shiver run down your spine.

You sigh, falling back onto the bed.

What would you think if your father could see you now? You, the youngest of four, just trying to make it by unnoticed by your family. Your mother had passed years ago- one of the reasons you bonded so well with Rhaenyra.

—-

“I miss her.”

It is her mothers birthday.

She demands that you stay with her all day, so unlike her usual sweet asks and subtle coercion (you can’t refuse the feel of her lips). And her harsh tone is nothing like normal.

But she is hurting. You let her boss you around. If it made her feel better, you would rip out your own heart for her. You are already walking around with something inside of you that belongs to her, what difference does it make if it is in your chest or her hands? You never survived on blood. You survived on star power, on something mystical and otherworldly. Something no one else could understand.

Rhaenyra stifles another sob into your hair, as you hold her with tight hands. You urge her to breathe, and she does. Your chest aches.

Rhaenyra is your savior. Your lover. Your everything. She is like dragonfire being blown in your face- leaving you unscathed. She burns bright and hot but as you get closer, you see that she is just a young girl. Motherless. Powerless.

You know that one day she will burn. But today is not that day.

Besides, she is stronger than that. She is more than her loss.

It is a while before her sobs quite down.

“Tell me something. Distract me, my love.”

You sigh, mind scrambling. “Did I ever tell you about my great grandmother?” She shakes her head, and you hum. “Her name was Alyssa. She was a Targaryen, a cousin to Old King Jaehaerys. She had a dragon, you know. Pink, if the stories are to be believed. A ferocious she-dragon named Heartfyre. My grandmother claimed Heartfyre when she was only 12 years old. She said she wasn’t even sure what was happening. She thought the old dragon was going to kill her. But she did not. After my grandmother died, Heartfyre flew off- to Old Valyria, traders on the sea said. No one ever saw her again.”

Your hands tangle in Rhaenyra’s hair.

“That’s sweet,” she murmurs, and you are relieved to hear no remnants of a sob in her voice. “‘M sorry for being so rude today.”

“It’s okay, Rhaenyra. I know. I know.”

She does not cry. She is a princess. She is a Targaryen.

But here, with you, she lets herself fall. It is the sweetest thing.

—-

The door opens with a sharp creek, and voices fill the room. It is what you have been waiting for.

You stand, skirting past Rhaenyra and Daemon in the doorway.

“Y/N, come back!” Rhaenyra calls, and for once, you do not answer her. You grab the letter you received late last night. It is hidden in your bookshelf, in between the cover of your favorite book.

When you turn back around, Rhaenyra is sitting leisurely on the bed. Daemon sets Dark Sister on the side table, fingers carefully tracing down the blade. He handles it with such care and reverence, you admire it.

You pad over to the wordlessly, letter burning in your hands. You do not trust yourself to speak, and Rhaenyra frowns when you hand her the letter. She tugs on your red slip, pulling you next to her on the bed.

“What’s this?”

You sigh, wordless, placing your forehead on her shoulder. You can tell she is concerned, placing a hand on the side of your face. You hear the sound of the wax seal ripping.

You did not dare open it.

Her eyes scan over it quickly, and you hear the sound of Daemon’s holster falling to the floor.

“Your father.” She whispers, and it is a breathless thing.

You nod against her, her hand curls into your hair.

“I won’t let him take you. Not again.”

“What?” Daemon asks, walking over, finally in earshot of your hushed voices.

“Letter.” Rhaenyra whispers. “Y/N’s father.”

“Tell him to fuck off,” Daemon scoffs.

You are too nervous to admonish him, Rhaenyra too busy reading.

“He says you can stay in Dragonstone. That your siblings married better than you. He doesn’t care.”

You let out a breath of relief.

The years of letting him pass you by have paid off.

“Thank the Gods,” you murmur.

“Were you scared, my sweet girl? You must know by now, we will not let anyone take you, hm?”

You pull back from Rhaenyra. Miss her warmth.

“I know, but, still. We are not married.”

“That can be arranged.” You do not need to look at Daemon to know his face is sporting a large smirk.

Rhaenyra sighs from beside you, beginning to take down her intricate hairstyle.

“We won’t do anything until you say so, my love.” She shoots a look to Daemon, and you smile. You fall back onto the bed, on your side, cheek pressing into the silk fabric. Daemon comes into your point of view, but only for a second. He walks past you, to the other side of the bed, bed dipping as he lays down.

It is domestic. It is normal. It is all you have ever wanted.

Daemon winds a hand into your hair, tugging you up. You sit up, and he beckons you over with a lazy grin and a movement of his finger. You come to your knees, and he palms your hips.

“Made for us,” he murmurs.

He pulls you to straddle him in one swift move- and he moans at the sight of your flustered from the lack of warning.

He is drowning in his own lust, in the tightening of his pants. You can feel it below you. Pressing up against you in the most delicious way-

When your hips move, it is a reflex. A desperate chase for more of this feeling.

Daemon and Rhaenyra have not ravaged you like this. No one has. Your husband neglected his duties to you. But you are take by the sudden need to be taken by them, to be full, to feel loved.

“Daemon,” you moan. He grunts, face burying into your neck to leave hard kisses.

You hear the silk sheets rustle from behind you, the press of something warm against your back. Rhaenyra is right behind you, breath fanning the side of your face. Her hands rest on your stomach, a comforting, sure pressure.

“This is what I want to see for the rest of my life. The prettiest girl, a desperate mess for us, yeah?”

You moan at her words, hips moving again. Daemon throws his head back, hands gripping your hips tighter, pushing you down-

When Rhaenyra’s hand travels along your stomach, you grab it, instinctively. You do not know if you are ready.

“We will have you as you are,” she whispers, and you let her hand go. When her warm hand dips under your skirts you shiver with anticipation. With want. With need.

The head of Daemon’s manhood touches his stomach, and you press against the length of it. It must be a painful thing, you think, by any way Daemon grips your hips.

Her hand moves past your small clothes, and Daemon lets out another groan at the press of her hand as well.

Daemon grabs the front of your dress, ripping it in half in a show of raw strength. You shriek in suprise, but he only laughs, dark and promising.

He leans back, admiring.

Your arms come over your chest, but Daemon grabs them with a growl.

“Did you not hear me?” Rhaenyra whispers, hot and breathy in your ear. The tip of her finger circles for the first time in so many years, and you throw your head back onto her shoulder. “I said we will have you as you are.”

And when they have you, you swear you melt into the silk sheets.

—-

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#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

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