#and abdication did actually happen in one i watched before

[protoindoeuropean]

me, about to watch the last 15 mins of a historical romance/political intrigue k-drama: ok will he abdicate now? cmon, abolish the monarchy already!

me when the king does not in fact abolish the monarchy:

#this one really had potential considering it was after 1900 #j #g #and abdication did actually happen in one i watched before #that was nice #(even if they didn't abolish the monarchy smh)

[inchidentally]

Crown Prince Lando AU idea based entirely on his appearance today in Italy for his trophy and Lawrence writing about how every team is courting Lando

okay so I wrote this rly fast on the work laptop and you have to just ignore the weird interpretations of how royalty and inheritance etc works. and completely fucking with how things went down in F1 history. it's an absolute mess and possibly unreadable but I literally couldn't stop myself.

if you're a fic author then pleaaaaase have a look and see if you can take this and actually make anything out of it even if it needs a lot of changes.

Crown Prince Lando has been fought over by nations since he was seventeen years old. His parents had retired from royal duties to live quietly in the countryside but a series of deaths and lack of heirs resulted in Lando living most of his life being prepared for ascension to the throne. His parents did as good a job as they could to keep Lando humble and "normal" while having to live a kind of sequestered monastic existence.

As he grew so did his future subjects' love and adoration of him. They loved his humor and his cheeky treatment of the solemn institution surrounding him. As he grew into being a beauty the country took endless pride in him and watched his exploits as a touring royal closely.

Fernando Alonso was the first to pledge his troth to Prince Lando because he could see the promise in Lando of one day becoming a truly beloved ruler - a quality he himself had found wanting in his own slow gathering of power. However he was persuaded early on by his advisers and Lando's parents to withdraw due to his 'already advanced age'. Lando's debut at court was postponed by his parents to prevent any other establishment attempting to lay their claim before Lando felt comfortable and ready.

The powerful Sainz Vázquez de Castro family swooped in next and arranged a series of public meetings between Prince Lando and their wicked (meaning "experienced") and devastatingly handsome son Carlos Jr. His charisma and dark eyes charmed Prince Lando immediately and a wedding date was set for the following year. Lando's debut at court was hastily arranged to happen mere days prior. Probably should insert something here about Lando being made to live this period of life in a guarded tower and attendants being present whenever he was with Carlos because chastity being required for marriage. And the only way to keep Carlos' dick out of Lando was the threat of a priest's guard cutting it off. But lbr they manage to sneak around well enough to do everything else.

Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: Sovereign Prince Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former sovereign, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo's unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (and unable to become sovereign himself due to being a second son, again my weird rules). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn't bear the thought of being sovereign let alone of a land that wasn't even his own.

Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders siezing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be King Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.

But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos' fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles' lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando's picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.

Prince Lando is of course too heartbroken to consider other suitors and his court is demoralized by their own failure to seal his future. Only brash American tycoon Zak Brown keeps the faith that Lando's appeal as he grows will land him a better match than any Euro old money looking to aggrandize themselves and take advantage of Lando's youth to displace his rightful future as King.

A stroke of genius is the arrival of commoner Daniel Ricciardo whose rise up the ranks of society has hit more than a few speedbumps over the years. He's in the perfect position to act as placeholder and a sort of 'playmate' for the young Prince Regent. Daniel does the job of squiring Lando around and cheering him up beautifully. So beautifully that Daniel begins to see in his charge's wide eyes a future that he had only ever let himself dream of before. He begins to publicly push the boundaries of propriety with Lando like holding hands, embracing him from behind, dancing scandalously close together. The dam begins to break when Daniel opens a public social media account and begins posting adoring and fairly intimate videos of Lando that prove to be a massive hit with the public… and that fan rumours of the Crown Prince breaking with tradition and marrying a commoner.

Exeunt Daniel Ricciardo.

(Yes I know this isn't remotely his role but go with it) Newly appointed Lord Chancellor Andrea Stella proposes that only a candidate the same age as Lando - or ideally younger - should be considered to ensure that his claim to the throne be safeguarded. Because Lando hasn't spent the intervening years doing nothing but swooning over a succession of suitors, he's perfected his role and learned his court and won over the hearts of his people. He's effected harmonious relations with rival kingdoms seemingly effortlessly. The royal coffers have never been so full and trade is booming. Lando and his court all know that Lando could easily rule alone. But the fire that the now King of Monaco had lit inside him refused to go out. It begged to be fueled and to burn brighter.

Then one day Andrea hears a murmur of controversy happening in the middling levels of the aristocracy. The scoundrel Alonso had construed a match between one Oscar Piastri and Frenchman Esteban Ocon as a means of effecting his (Alonso's) escape and aggrandizing the Alpine dynasty. There were further details about a drama between Ocon and countryman Pierre Gasley but all that interested Andrea was that young Piastri had ordered a direct pronouncement be made against the match and any further association with Alpine. He had already rejected the opportunity of being presented at court and clearly had plans for his own future that would not depend on the protection or condescension of any other power but his own.

Imagine Andrea's surprise when Zak Brown announces at the next privy council meeting that preliminary arrangements had been made with young Piastri to be the Crown Prince's companion for the following season. A pretense at Piastri having an interest in royal politics was to be given to everyone, including Piastri himself. But Andrea and Zak shared a knowing look across the mote-stained light straining through the high windows of the old chamber. The Crown Prince barely even hears the details as he wearily signs off on the public notice along with the other endless papers at his elbow. He doesn't even dream that a wildcard is being played for his future happiness.

The eldest son of the prominent and noble Piastri family from Tuscany is suitably beautiful with the characteristic straight brow, fine pale features and soulful deep amber eyes of his people. He is tall and still growing with an effortless regal bearing despite his youth. The first few meetings between him and the Crown Prince are cordial and with a promising warmth. Andrea is encouraged by the pink that rises high on Piastri's pale cheeks whenever he shares smiles with Lando but he's even more encouraged by the steady intensity of his gaze when Lando isn't looking.

For the first few months, Piastri remains a faithful but distant part of Lando's royal retinue. They interact often enough and clearly like each other. But it also comes at a time of unrest in Lando's kingdom as a result of the ascension of an ambitious and possibly ruthless young King in the Netherlands. Lando proposes a visit to Castle Toro Rosso and asks Piastri to accompany them due to the Italian affiliation with the Dutch royal house. Something about Piastri's calm and quiet confidence helps stabilize Lando and he needs all the support he can get.

The visit is strained and the Dutch court is intimidating - and rather grating - in it's brash opulence and show of dominance. The young King is more of a mystery, seeming cold and aloof but flashing a wry smile at Lando's well-known charm and humor. The tide turns entirely in Lando's favor at the tourney. Lando has been barred from jousting following his formal presentation as crown prince due to some finicky archaic British law and it eats away at it him to have to sit and watch while the Dutch King was allowed to ride for himself. More than once Lando moodily pushes at the circlet that keeps slipping over his curls and can feel himself being increasingly bratty and short with his attendants.

Piastri was already reknowned for his prowess in jousting and was automatically given the seat to represent the Crown Prince. When he appeared mounted on a blood bay charger that gleamed almost golden and black in the hot sun (MCL colors kinda??) Lando has A Moment when Piastri tips his visor open and addresses him formally and those intense brown eyes behind the cold armor make him look so much older. Lando causes a stir when he descends from his seat and gives Piastri his favor in the form of a ribbon from one of his full sleeves. They have one of Those Looks between each other before Piastri turns to take his place. He bests every one of his opponents and isn't unseated once.

Then the Dutch King Max Emilian appears and strangely shuns any pageantry associated with a knight's entry, let alone a king's. His Lady sits in his place flanked by both her own and the King's powerful families and court. Lando finds himself suddenly flooded with fear because what would happen if Oscar lost? What would happen if Oscar won? When had he become 'Oscah' and not just Piastri?

The collision unseats both King Max Emilian and Oscar and they draw swords. The fight is precise and clinical and breathtaking. Perhaps it was because of having more to lose or perhaps it was the press of the Crown Prince's lips against the silk ribbon he gave as tribute but Oscar suddenly anticipates a step too far ahead for the young King and a unified gasp is heard when Max Emilian's body hits the dirt. It's instinct that has Oscar's sword held at the King's throat. But when Max Emilian throws his visor back his bloodied mouth is stretched in a wide toothy grin. He barks out a series of high cackles and ceremonially begs mercy. Oscar breathes out in a rush and claps his armored hand around the King's and helps him to his feet. Max Emilian flicks Oscar's visor open for him and lifts his hand declaring Oscar's well-earned victory. Lando forgets himself and leaps up yelling and cheering as his court smiles ruefully over at the stiff, formal "celebrations" coming from the stands opposite.

Holy god I've written way more than I meant to but let's have it finish off with Lando whispering to gain access to the tent where Oscar is undressing and cleaning his wounds. Perhaps his armor has been removed down to the hips the way driver's drop their race suits down after a race. Oscar startles when he sees Lando alone with him and rushes to kneel to him. Maybe Lando puts his hand under Oscar's chin and tells him to rise up and oh maybe seeing Oscar sweaty and dirtied with a cut to one cheek and a few bruises on his body makes him forget himself. Maybe he surges up and kisses Oscar and maybe Oscar is shocked but also feels exactly the same way and kisses him right back. Then probably Oscar decides to make his boldest move yet and says that if Lando doesn't want him then he'll quietly go away - but if Lando does want him then Oscar would welcome the title King Consort, would be proud of it in fact to be in service a king like Lando one day.

Then Lando either passes out because he's been in blue ball hell since Carlos and years worth of arousal hit him all at once or maybe he just whimpers a little and starts wondering how fast a royal wedding can get planned so he can Get That Dick ASAP.

Fin.

#landoscar #this is also carlando and dando and charlos in passing #fic prompt #mine #crown prince lando #prince charming lando #f1 royalty au

[conkers-thecosy]

Bagginshield-tober / Day 1 / Breakfast

I've decided to take part in the lovely "Bagginshield-tober" prompt list by the excellent @smolestboop 💛

I've always wanted to write some reshirement stuff for Thorin and Bilbo, but never really had a definitive plot bunny for it, so this works out quite nicely! Going to keep them fairly short (although who knows what that actually means, when it comes to me and writing, lmao) but ideally all following on from one another! Hopefully they come out okay!

~*~*~

Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain for a mere nine days, all told, was getting pudgy.

It had been only six months since he had followed Bilbo Baggins to his home back in the Shire under the guise of an escort, unsure what to do with himself after his abdication. In that time he had let out his belt by two notches, and was starting to feel that he might need to purchase new clothes entirely, both for his own comfort, and for the sake of decency. Everything was decidedly tight, including his temper, as he'd had to lay back on the bed to fasten his trousers that morning.

Simmering with suppressed annoyance, Thorin entered the bright and warm kitchen to find his retired burglar already cooking up a vast and sumptuous breakfast for the two of them. He stood in the doorway, looking warily around at all the hustle and bustle, fried potatoes, ham, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes. There was toast piled high beside the already open butter dish, where one half eaten slice was laying, slathered with strawberry preserve. Tea was being brewed, already laid out on the table with milk, sugar, and two cups and saucers, waiting with another two jars for the toast of marmalade and raspberry jam.

This was the issue. He tried to stay active, he really did. He chopped wood, he mended things about the smial, carried groceries (which was quite the undertaking given the amount of food the pair of them seemed to get through), he'd even taken to helping in Bilbo's garden, which he had found surprisingly back-breaking. Still, it wasn't enough to counteract the vast amount of meals the Hobbit seemed intent on feeding him.

He watched Bilbo from the doorway, still unnoticed by his host, and felt a little of his annoyance fade at the sight. He was humming merrily to himself, standing over the hob and frying a pan of eggs, the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window and catching the gold and copper in his hair. His small hands were delicate, but deft as he cooked with practised ease, and Thorin couldn't help but notice how radiant Bilbo looked. There had been a time when he had been deeply concerned about how small the Hobbit had grown on their journey, and to see him now filling out his clothes better, looking round and soft again as he ought, filled Thorin with a quiet sense of relief.

Just then, Bilbo turned to remove the pan from the heat, the eggs apparently now done, and saw his long-term house-guest watching him with, what was quite likely, a besotted look upon his face. Thorin straightened, feeling his cheeks heat, and cleared his throat. Before he had time to apologise, to explain, or anything really, Bilbo's eyes lit up and he smiled widely.

"Good morning!" he practically chirruped as he scooped the eggs onto the serving platter with the rest of the food. "I trust you slept well?"

"I did indeed," Thorin replied. "And yourself?"

"Very well, thank you, yes!"

It was a lie they both told one another each day. Neither of them slept well anymore. Thorin awoke often with nightmares, and from the bedroom beside him, he often heard that Bilbo suffered in much the same way. It was likely they both knew it was happening, but neither wanted to admit it to the other, and so they pretended every day that the fear, grief, heart-ache, and deep, abiding shame was nonexistent.

Suddenly Bilbo was standing right in front of him, eyes too kind, yet somehow hesitant, and Thorin wondered if perhaps the Hobbit was about to break their mutual silence on the matter. Instead he reached forward and almost absently patted Thorin's tummy with those small, deft hands he had been admiring only moments before, and smiled warmly.

"You're looking so much healthier lately, Thorin," he said, blushing gently. "I'm pleased to see it."

In the face of such honest concern and happiness, Thorin felt all of his previous annoyance melt away to nothing. Bilbo had worried for him, just as he had worried for Bilbo. What did it matter if he needed to purchase new clothes or let out his belt a little more, when the one he loved was so determined to see him along the road to recovery? It wasn't as though the physical changes to his body were a hindrance to him, and perhaps he might see about working in the smithy if he was going to stay a while yet in Bag End.

He hoped he would never have to leave, in truth, but that decision was not up to him, and not one he had felt able to broach just yet.

"Thank you," Thorin said instead, smiling gently down at Bilbo and fighting the urge to reach up and caress his slightly pink, rounded cheek. "You are looking healthier, as well."

There was a moment between them, a pull that happened more and more lately, but Bilbo only winked and stepped back. "Come along then, breakfast is getting cold. I didn't bother making porridge this morning, but if you like we can have some with fruit for second breakfast later."

Thorin smothered a chuckle as he followed Bilbo to the table as he was bid. Yes, perhaps some time working at a forge would be a good idea, after all.

#bagginshield #bagginshieldtober #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #conkers-theficwriter #reshirement #lola stuff #hurt/comfort #pining #mutual pining #slice of life #cw:food #it's body positive I promise #stealing moments moments away

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Haunting With Dinosaurs (0)

Danny is summoned by a powerful occult practitioner named Victor Veloci, who wants him to bring dinosaurs back to life. It sounds absurd, but Danny is bound to him and cannot refuse, even though he can't actually bring dinosaurs back to life. Instead, he merges the ghosts of five dinosaurs with the bodies of the five human sacrifices Veloci used to summon him, restoring them to life as dinosaur halfas. And that's only the beginning.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day 4: Any Fandom Dino Squad | Element

Read it on AO3 also, Watch Dino Squad on Youtube it sucks (affectionate)

Danny is slightly aged up to be 18 and a recent high school graduate, also this is a ghost king Danny AU, and obviously Phantom Planet didn't happen, but other than that, no major changes have been made to DP lore in this fic.

As for Dino Squad, I've made some pretty significant changes, but they pretty much boil down to: This is a supernatural AU, so it won't have canon-typical Dino Squad made-up science. All other changes are explained in the actual fic as they come up.

I'm lowkey assuming that the majority of people who read this will not have seen Dino Squad, so I've made sure to describe all the DS elements a little more thoroughly than the DP elements so those of you who haven't seen Dino Squad can understand what's going on.

Prologue

Next Chapter

[Warning for death, coercive control, and semi-graphic violence]

Danny was getting real sick of summonings. He'd been warned that after he officially became the ghost king, more people would try to summon him, but if he'd known it would be this bad, he would have fought harder to abdicate the title. 

At least back when he was just Danny Phantom, ghostly superhero, he would be summoned to girls' slumber parties right here in Amity Park. As the ghost king, he kept getting summoned by whack-jobs and cults on the other side of the world. Plus, whack-jobs and cults never wore skimpy pajamas or asked him to play truth or dare with them. 

Being ghost king didn't have any perks.

Sometimes he could ignore a summons, if it was weak and he focused really hard on it, but not this time. This time, whoever was summoning him was powerful. The pull to answer was stronger than he'd ever felt before. 

He could barely resist it long enough to rinse the toothpaste out of his mouth before he was forcibly torn through space and transformed into his ghost form, crown, ring, and all. Then he was floating in the center of a summoning circle.

Wherever he was now, it was dark, maybe a basement, or maybe a cave. He didn't hear any dripping water or echo, so probably a basement. The only light came from Danny himself and five dim, candles with green flames burning low. Normally that wouldn't bother Danny, who could see in the dark as if it was daylight, but something about this darkness was unnatural. Even he couldn't see through it.

It smelled like must and blood. So much blood he could taste it when he opened his mouth, and nearly gagged.

"Finally, I have you," a voice said. It was deep and slightly accented, although Danny couldn't place what it was. Almost British but not quite.

Danny swallowed and braced himself for the metallic taste in the air before he opened his mouth again to ask, "Who are you? Why did you summon me? And can you turn a light on?"

He squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the figure standing there The light he gave off revealed only silhouettes, but it looked like just one man, tall, with a dignified stance.

"I have spent centuries perfecting this ritual to summon you here and bind you to me," the man continued. 

Then he spoke words in an ancient language. Not Latin. Older. Almost primeval. 

Danny hissed as he felt a burning sensation wrap around his wrists. Through his gloves he could see a red glow circling them. It became brighter and hotter for a long minute, until finally, it faded. 

"What is this?" Danny demanded harshly.

"A binding spell," the man responded, holding up his hand to show a faintly glowing red sigil on his palm. "You are now bound to me. You will come when I call; you will do my bidding. You belong to me, ghost king. You belong to Victor Veloci."

Danny backed away slowly, only to stop when he reached the edge of the summoning circle and hit a barrier. 

The usual freaks never knew enough to actually keep him in the circle, let alone bind him to themselves. This guy was the real deal. He wasn't just another whack-job who got his hands on a summoning ritual; he actually knew what he was doing.

It had finally fully dawned on Danny that this was not his typical summoning. This was really, really bad.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice steady.

"I want you to resurrect my friends," the man, Victor, said.

"You have friends?" Danny scoffed.

"I did." As he watched, Victor's eyes started to glow, amber with slitted pupils. Definitely not human. "And you're going to bring them back. All of them. So we can destroy humanity and return the world to the way it should be. When we were in our prime."

"Back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, you mean?" 

It was meant to be derisive, but Victor smiled, green light glinting off wickedly sharp teeth.

"Exactly."

One by one, the green candle flames finally burned out, and the oppressive, unnatural darkness faded away to regular darkness. Now that Danny could see again, all the cards were on the table. He knew where he was, what Victor looked like, and where that smell of blood was coming from.

A corpse laid on each of the five pentagram points. They looked like they were teenagers. A few years older than Danny had been when he'd gone ghost the first time. Probably still in high school, or they would have been if they weren't here, glassy-eyed and still sluggishly dipping blood.

Victor Veloci himself was a well-groomed man with long dark hair streaked with dark red. He wore a burgundy suit, and carried himself like a respectable businessman. If it weren't for the glowing yellow monster eyes, he could have had anyone fooled.

Danny was made to listen as Victor shared his story. It sounded ridiculous. A pair of velociraptors somehow surviving the extinction of the dinosaurs, developing immortality and the ability to transform into humans. But Victor clearly believed it. And after what he showed Danny, it was hard to deny.

He told Danny that, unlike the other velociraptor, he was always supernaturally gifted. He could see the ghosts of the other dinosaurs, even speak to them. They were angry. They wished to return. And he vowed to make that happen no matter how long it took.

"And now, finally, after millennia, I have you," Victor finished. "The king of death, bound to my will. Now, you will bring the dinosaurs back to life so that we may return the world to its rightful state."

"Yeah... that's not gonna happen," Danny said, less than apologetically.

"You must," Victor insisted. 

He held up his palm and the sigil their glowed more brightly. At the same time, the marks around Danny's wrists glowed, but they didn't burn. If Danny were to hazard a guess, he'd say they could only make him do things he was actually capable of doing. So he wasn't in direct defiance of his new master's orders.

"Why isn't this working," Victor hissed.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it, I said it's not gonna happen," Danny said. "I can bring people back from the dead, but I need blood, and flesh, and bone marrow. I need DNA. I can't bring back a ghost without anything remaining of their physical form, and I can't bring anything back from fossils either. Tough luck, man."

"So what can you do?" Victor growled.

Danny looked down at the mutilated teenagers beneath him.

"I can bring them back," he said.

"I don't care about them."

"I can bring them back and merge them with the ghosts of some of these dinosaurs you care so much about," he continued. "Sort of like an overshadowing situation. You know, possession kinda."

"Will they be able to take their true dino forms?"

"Sort of? They'll still be ghost dinos, but they'll be corporeal at least." 

What Danny was proposing was basically bringing these teenagers back as halfas, except their ghost forms would be dinosaurs. Which, actually sounded pretty epic, honestly. He wasn't actually sure how, or even if it was going to work, but he had to do something for these kids, and he had to do it without directly defying this mad wizard. This was the best he could come up with.

"Your proposal is acceptable... for now," Victor said. "I shall call to the spirits of five dinosaurs for you to use."

He spoke again in that ancient language. Its guttural tones sending a shiver down Danny's spine. Ghost king or not, this stuff was creepy.

A moment later, a pteranodon swooped into the room, perching at the edge of the summoning circle.

Cautiously, Danny placed one hand on the pteranodon's beak, then knelt down to the nearest teen, a kid whose only recognizable feature at the moment was a bright green mohawk. It was hard to look at, so Danny closed his eyes. In his mind, he told the ghost to merge with the teen, ectoplasm mixing with blood as the teen healed and the dinosaur was locked inside them.

For a terrifying second, he just waited. If he'd been breathing, he would have held his breath.

Then, the teen started to breathe. They were still unconscious, but they were alive.

Danny sighed with relief.

"Did it work?" Victor asked.

"It worked," Danny confirmed. "I'm ready for the next one."

In truth, doing that just once had been pretty exhausting. Doing it five times would definitely push the limits of what Danny was capable of. He might even end up passing out and turning human again. And then where would he be? But it would be even more difficult the longer he let these kids rot. He had to try.

The next dinosaur Victor called was a stegosaurus, and Danny successfully merged it with a purple-haired boy wearing a shredded button-up and a tie. Then came the spinosaurus, which he merged with a redheaded girl in cargo pants. Then a T-Rex, which was terrifying, but merged with the boy in the bloodstained Letterman jacket without issue.

By the time the final dinosaur arrived—a styracosaurus, Veloci claimed, although it looked like a triceratops to Danny, not that he was a dino expert—Danny was exhausted. He wasn't sure if he would be able to pull it off one more time. Rather than using his authority to order the ghost, it felt more like begging this time. He was desperate. Almost completely drained of energy. If he didn't turn human after this it would be a miracle.

Much to his relief, he succeeded the fifth time too, merging the styracosaurus with the last teen, a large, African-American boy wearing a robotics club T-shirt.

Somehow, and it really must have been a miracle, Danny managed to stay in his ghost form.

"Alright, man, done," Danny said.

"I disagree," Victor denied. "There are millions of dinosaurs, and you're going to bring them all back."

"Not tonight I'm not," Danny argued. "I don't actually have unlimited power, you know. And doing this takes a lot out of me. It's gonna be a long time before I get enough energy back to do it again."

"How long? A century? Two?"

"Uh..." 

Danny had been thinking more like a week, but this was a pleasant reminder that the man currently controlling him was apparently from prehistoric times. 

"Yeah, maybe," Danny said, rather than correct him. "If we're lucky."

"I've waited this long," Victor said. "I promised. As long as it takes."

"Right just uh... don't kill anyone until I'm actually ready to resurrect them, okay?" Danny said. "The longer someone's been dead, the harder it is to bring them back."

"I make no promises," Victor replied. "You're dismissed for now, but don't go too far. I'll call you back when I need you." 

He uttered one guttural word, and Danny felt the tense atmosphere around him break. Instinctively, he knew that he could now leave the circle, leave the basement, and he did. Though he swore to himself he'd come back to rescue those kids as soon as Victor left.

Until then, however, there was someone else he needed to find. According to Victor's story, there had been two velociraptors who survived extinction. And apparently, the other one lived in the same city. 

#fic #dp #dp x dino squad #danny phantom #dino squad #dinosquad #crossover #dp crossover #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover danuary week #haunting with dinosaurs #things i wrote #danny fenton #victor veloci

[randomjreader]

YOUNG ROYALS SEASON 2 SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Here we go, part 2 of my mess of thoughts while watching young royals

Hot take: Simon and Marcus aren't that bad tgt, but Simon's heart isn't entirely into it so it's never going to work out. I just hope Simon is direct with him now before shit goes down with Wille again

SIMON THROWING THE DODGEBALL AT WILLE 😭 that was personal 💀

Ahhh I get why Simon is mad, but Wille does have more to consider when it comes to big decisions 😭 I feel so bad for him

YES YES YES FELICE AND WILLE MAKING UP, WILLE APOLOGISING FOR KISSING HER LIKE THAT, FELICE BEING SO UNDERSTANDING AHHHHH I LOVE THEM

No honestly? Any doubt I had abt Felice back in season one? Squashed, killed, crushed underneath the sole of my foot. Absolute top tier character I love her to bits

"it hurts so much. I feel like I'm gonna die" STOP PLS MY POOR WILLE JUST SHATTERING MY HEART WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER

THE LOVE LETTER TO FREDRIKA, IT HAS TO BE FROM STELLA RIGHT? SHES LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT THERE'S NO WAY IT'S NOT FROM STELLA

WILLE IN TEARS WHILE PUTTING ON HIS MAKEUP PLS 😭😭 SOMEONE PROTECT HIM PLS STOP HURTING HIM

MORE FREDRIKA AND STELLA MOMENTS IM CALLING IT RN THEY'RE A THING

Ok, not them making me feel bad for August??? He set up a whole romantic thing for Sara and she bails? Yikes

Marcus showing up for Simon? Aww

But Simon not telling him the names of his fishes bcs they remind him of Wille :(

I FUCKING KNEW IT, STELLA AND FREDRIKA AHHHHHHHH I AM HERE FOR IT 🏳️‍🌈

FUCK YES THEY FINALLY KISSED!!! BUT SIMON IS STILL WITH MARCUS?? ITS MORE COMPLICATED NOW 😭 Lowkey feeling bad for Marcus man he does seem to like Simon a lot

Simon singing to Wille 😭 y'all I'm in my feels rn

WILLE WAS SO HAPPY AFTER THE KISS AWWW <3

NOOO SIMON CALLED THE KISS A MISTAKE

OK, ITS HAPPENING, WILLE TOLD SIMON THAT AUGUST POSTED THE VIDEO

Ughh this whole music room fight, I hate that I understand both sides and it's just a whole djoajdkskfkwjdjxn

Wille going to Simon's house to talk to him 😭 AND IMPLYING THAT HE'D ABDICATE FOR HIM

That phone call, August was tryna buy Rosseaou for Sara right? That's kinda sweet actually

WILLE THROWING UP AHHHH

THEY CLOSED THE CURTAINS, I REPEAT, THEY CLOSED THE CURTAINS

Okok, I rlly do feel bad for Marcus. I mean, he was harsh and Simon is not wrong in saying he did tell him that he didn't want anyth serious, but I do understand his anger and it makes me feel bad for him, bcs I do think he did like Simon a lot

OK, ANYTH I SAID ABOUT FEELING BAD FOR AUGUST? KILLED, CRUSHED, COMPLETELY DEAD. HOW FUCKING DARE HE

Ok, it doesn't erase that I did feel bad for him when he went thru shit but my rage at him for blackmailing Wille is overpowering any sympathy I feel for the guy

Also ALEXANDER??? BABES I WAS ROOTING FOR U I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN U CAME BACK HOW DARE U BETRAY ME LIKE THIS

OH MY FUCKING GOD, THE ENTIRE FUCKING GUN SCENE WAS SO INTENSE, I ACTUALLY JUMPED

I WATCHED THAT SCENE TWICE IN SWEDISH THEN ONCE IN ENGLISH BCS I JUST NEEDED TO HEAR EDVIN PORTRAY WILLE'S RAGE

Thereeeee goes Felice and Sara's frnship, it was fun while it lasted 😔

YES YES YES YES YES THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

STOPP NOT THE I LOVE YOU FROM SIMON THEY'RE TRYNA MAKE ME CRY FR I LOVE MY BOYS SO MUCH

Sara?? Telling the police?? Oh god ok good for her for trying to do the right thing but there's still the drug thing and I think it'll backfire...

HE TOLD THE WORLD, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, WILHELM TOLD THE WORLD THAT IT WAS HIM IN THE VIDEO WITH SIMON

The look in the camera 😭 we ended season one with a completely stoic expression and now we have a small smile I LOVEE

Well. That was a giant emotional rollercoaster. I'm gonna need about 3-5 business days to process everything now.

#young royals #young royals 2 #wilmon #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #felice ehrencrona #sara eriksson #august of årnäs #young royals marcus

[justasparkwritings]

The Littlest Dumpling {3}

Previous: The Littlest Dumpling {2}

Pairing: Min Yoongi x OFC

Genre: Non Idol AU / Author AU

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Swearing!

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: Drinks and discussions of work … Or maybe the beginning of something more.

Master List

Tag List: @4ksj, @jagiya, @ot7nem, @knjkitten, @teamtardis-notdead​

Ask is Open

Tag List 

           He sat on his throne, watching his subjects file into the chamber. They were unsure why he had called them in, and why he was the one waiting to speak. He was barely a king, still a child, what did he have to say to them?

           “I heard his mother abandoned him after he took the throne,” A subject said.

           “Apparently his father is disappointed in him, and his brother has tried to kill him twice.”

           “Maybe he’s abdicating,��� A third subject said.

           “Or maybe he’s going to surprise us!” Violet said, pulling their attention to the little girl. “Maybe he’s going to be a great king, and you don’t know it yet.”

           The older subjects stared at her. What was it with children and daydreaming?

           Lil King Yoongi Volume 1 

You: Alright – so it’s been about 2 weeks since our meeting and … I’m wondering … drinks soon?

Yoongi: Are you that desperate to see me? Aren’t we supposed to meet once a week?

You: Fine – I’ll see you in two weeks at the Ruby Poppy. 5PM, don’t be late.

Yoongi: I’m kidding! I actually am waiting for Jin to send his next round of notes

You: Oh so you have free time and that means you respond to my texts?

Yoongi: I’d respond to your texts even if I didn’t have free time

You: Are you flirting?

Yoongi: Maybe

You: Okay

           You stare at your phone, unsure what to say next or what to type…. He’s admitted he’s flirting and that is somehow so close to crossing the line that it feels so… dangerous. And not in a fun way.

You: If Jin doesn’t get his notes to you in a timely manner, let me know and I’ll talk to his boss

Yoongi: Aren’t you, his boss?

You: I mean, yes, but there’s a manager in charge of the editors. The go between of sorts

Yoongi: So when they complain they go to them first

You: Yes, then me… or HR

Yoongi: Are there a lot of HR complaints?

You: I’m not at liberty to discuss what does or doesn’t happen between HR and the rest of the company

Yoongi: Please?

You: No

Yoongi: Who is Jin’s boss?

You: Her name is Sadie

Yoongi: And you’re her boss, too?

You: Yep

Yoongi: She manages the editors?

You: Yes, she does. Makes sure they’re on track for their projects

Yoongi: Mine’s supposed to come out next summer, with the end of school?

You: We want to finish edits by June to print and go out with the beginning of the school year. Did you not read the plan we created? You signed it

Yoongi: Sometimes details are fuzzy, I mostly needed to know when I had to be done so I could panic plan my days

You: You panic plan?

Yoongi: I do – doesn’t everyone?

You: No? I mean, I do but that can’t be healthy

Yoongi: Most things aren’t

You: You’ve got time to finish your book, and maybe even start or write the next book

Yoongi: Oh god, there’s gonna be more… I forgot there has to be two more

You: Yes, obligated to write 2 more

Yoongi: Damnit – any chance I can get out of it?

You: Absolutely not

Yoongi: Fine… fine… I guess I’ll write them

You: Perfect

Yoongi: So what are you doing tonight?

           You put your phone down. This can’t be good. This level of flirting. This banter back and forth. The want to keep texting and texting and texting until the sun comes up. This can’t be good.

You: I have several new episodes of The Boys to watch, and a glass of chardonnay that is delicious and begging to be consumed

Yoongi: Sounds like a good evening

You: What are you up to?

Yoongi: Wondering how long I can keep texting you before we both decide this is a slippery slope

You: It’s been a slippery slope the entire time, Yoongi

Yoongi: I know

You: And yet, we’re somehow happy to slide down it

Yoongi: Don’t you have rules?

You: Oh, we have so many rules. We’re breaking at least two now…

Yoongi: Should we stop?

You: Do you want to?

Yoongi: No, not really

You: Me either

To: Yoongi

From: Seokjin

Subject: Notes Draft #2

Yoongi –

           Draft 2 is looking stronger than what you initially presented. I still want you to take a look and put in some work for pages 5-10. They’re missing something, a little sparkle or hint of hope that is apparent in all the other pages. It’s only the second draft, so please don’t be too hard on yourself.

           The rest of my notes are included in the attached documents.

           Seokjin

           Yoongi opens the attachments and stares at the notes Jin’s given him. They’re not…. Bad. But he definitely doesn’t agree with at least five of them… or six… okay half of them. He dislikes at least three of them and vehemently hates the rest. Who the fuck does Jin think he is? Coming in and giving useless notes on Yoongi’s project? It’s Yoongi’s project, doesn’t he know best? But one could argue that Seokjin’s job is in fact to give Yoongi edits and make his project better. One could argue, but Yoongi will not.

To: Seokjin

From: Yoongi

Subject: Re Notes Draft #2

Jin –

           These notes are shit. I’m not taking them.

           Yoongi

           “I don’t know what you expected, Jin. You two have a tough relationship, you supposedly always have. But your job is to get through it,” You tell Jin as you sit across from him at your desk. He’d scheduled a last-minute meeting and came in flustered and frustrated.

           “I don’t know how to, Y/N, my notes were good. You saw them, they were solid and not personal or emotional. They were good notes!”

           “They were, that is true.”

           “So what do I do? You can’t keep babysitting me and him for this entire process. He has two other books to write too.” Jin’s trying so hard to remain calm about the whole situation, but it’s wearing thin on his nerves.

           “I don’t know Jin,” You say.

           “Are you mad I didn’t go to Sadie first?”

           “No, no I’m not mad. Yoongi is being difficult, and obstinate. Let me, let me talk to him and see what I can do.”

           “Thank you, that’s all I need,” Jin says standing. “I also sent in notes for two other books that Sadie should have copies of. They’re all on track, one of them is nearly ready to go.”

           “You don’t have to give me a status report, Jin. I know that you’re doing great work.”

           “Thank you, I’m trying.”

           Seokjin is, really, truly trying. But he’s also just naturally gifted at editing. He knows when to pull back, when to press his authors and how to get the best work out of them. That being said, this whole fiasco with Yoongi has him stumped. He knows he’s guilty, but damn it why is Yoongi being such a hard ass? Isn’t it wader under the bridge? Aren’t they passed it? It was high school for fucks sake – and it wasn’t like Yoongi didn’t do damage to him either. He did. Yoongi was unflinching and brutal towards Seokjin. It went both ways, always has.

           But maybe – maybe he needs to not only be the older person, but the bigger person.

           “I know you are. Look, I’ll talk to him. Aside from that, the only thing we can really do is have your 1-1 meetings with me too.”

           “We might have to.”

           “Let me see what I can do before we resort to that.”

           “Okay,” Jin pauses.

           “Yes?”

           “Do we get his agent involved?”

           “No, not yet. We’re not quite at the point of no return yet.”

You: Drinks tomorrow, The Ruby Poppy, 5PM

Yoongi: Is this in response to my comments to Mr. Kim?

You: Yes.

Yoongi: So not a social call

You: Absolutely not.

Yoongi: You’re mad at me

You: A little

Yoongi: Damnit

You: I’ll see you tomorrow

           You arrive first to The Ruby Poppy and are seated quickly, which gives you a little time to go over the notes you drafted for Yoongi. They aren’t lengthy, more concise bullet points of his recent behavior that needs to be addressed. Which does make you feel like his mother scolding him. It’s complicated and messy, having a crush on him while also knowing full well you can’t fuck around with him either. It’s your own fault, letting a slight crush find its way to Yoongi, then letting it plant and begin to blossom. It’s your own fucking fault, and yours alone.

           Yoongi shows up right on time, looking… good. Hair long, a V-neck white t-shirt tucked into ripped jeans with a casual black cardigan on top, Yoongi looks… so good it’s making you feel all sorts of ways towards him.

           “Hey,” he says as he approaches.

           “Hi,” You stand. “Hug, or is that weird?”

           “We’d hug if it was social, you said this wasn’t social so, no?” Yoongi’s guarded, unsure how much trouble he’s actually in. Jane had told him to be wary of his behavior and actions towards Seokjin, that if he wasn’t careful, they’d bite him in the ass… And that seems to be what’s happened.

           “That’s true. Sit,” You instruct and take your seat again.

           The waiter comes by to run through happy hour and disappears after you’ve both ordered.

           “So, do you want to get to the business so we can get to the social?” Yoongi asks, flirting lightly.

           “Seokjin gave you notes, good notes, thoughtful and decent notes. You have all but ignored them.”

           “That is true.”

           You cock an eyebrow.

           Yoongi remains calm. “You thought I’d deny it? I’m sure he showed you the email. I flat out rejected them.”

           “Right, I did not see the email but was told about it. Look, you need to take his notes.”

           “Why?” Yoongi asks, though he supposes it’s a stupid question.

           “Because if you do not figure out how to work with Seokjin, you will be in breach of your contract and will owe me a shit ton of money to get out of it. Your pride is getting in the way of your work, and it’s making your book worse.” You explain, using your most stern and concerning tone of voice. You hoped you wouldn’t have to use it on Yoongi, but he just couldn’t let that happen, could he?

           “I – my book isn’t bad.”

           “No, but it could be great,” You say, hand reaching onto the table for emphasis. “You are already great, Yoongi. You wrote an incredible saga of dragons and an unwilling, too young king who saves the day through courage and a lot of cunning. This new project could be just as big, but you have to listen to Seokjin.”

           “I don’t trust him.” Yoongi says for what seems like the millionth time.

           “I know. What can I do to help you trust him?”

           “Can you edit my book?” Yoongi asks.

           “No.” You tell him flatly.

           “Why not?”

           “That sets a bad precedent, Yoongi. If I edit yours because you don’t like him, what about everyone else that has troubles with their editors? Or editors with difficult authors? You are not the worst author I have ever had to work with, but you’re getting there.”

           He slumps lower in his seat. “I feel like a child.”

           “You’re acting like one. And for the record, I hate this so much.”

           It does make him feel a little better, to know you’re miserable in this conversation just like he is.

           “How do I trust him?” He asks earnestly.

           “Read his notes objectively.”

           Yoongi thinks on it, spinning it around in his mind a few times before he speaks again. “Can we, would it be possible to have meetings with you, too?”

           “A one-on-one with you and me?” You ask.

           “Or with Jin, too.” Yoongi would very much like a meeting with just you, but that seems like he’s asking for too much.

           “I think we could find time for a weekly meeting of the three of us, or every other week to look at new edits. You’re well on your way to having it together, but you just have to keep your mind open to feedback,” You offer.

           “I’m trying – poorly, but I am.”

           “Well, maybe for my sanity, try a little harder?” You wink and he quietly feels his heart picking up its pace.

           “I can do that,” Yoongi smiles as the drinks are placed in front of you.

           “Let’s cheers to new beginnings and working through our challenges,” You say, raising your glass.

           “That’s a tall order,” Yoongi comments.

           “You got a better idea?”

           “Nope, cheers to that.”

           You clink your glasses and take a sip.

           “Now that that unpleasantness is over, we can be social,” You smile softly at him, warm and inviting.

           “Oh, can we?” Yoongi asks. “I thought this was purely business.”  

           “It can continue to be if you don’t stop teasing me.”

           “No, no, it’s good. We don’t have to be all business all the time,” Yoongi says.

           “Great, that would be very boring.”

           “Would it? You work with authors, creating all sorts of worlds and creatures. That wouldn’t be boring at all.”

           “I suppose, but it can be tedious, always talking about invented things and nothing really truly tangible,” You say.

           Yoongi thinks about it, that does make sense, why always talk about something invented when you could discuss something real and true and plausible?

           “When I was a kid, all I did was create worlds. It’s how Lil King Yoongi came out, how I managed to exist… world building.”

           “I think all creatives do something like that, creating the places where we feel safe and seen.”

           “Yes, exactly.”

           “So, I met with Jane,” You tell him.

           “Oh?”

           You take another sip before setting your drink down. “Yes, and I have theories on who she’s dating.”

           “Oh fuck,” Yoongi smiles. “You do?”

           “Yes. I don’t know her nearly as well as you do, but from she’s told me… I think she’s sleeping with a friend of yours.”

           “No way!” Yoongi dismisses it.” That’s impossible, there’s no way she could be sleeping with a friend of mine and keep it a secret.”  

           “How do you know? Isn’t that the point of this? You don’t know who she’s sleeping with, thus creating mystery and intrigue?” You ask.

           “Yes, but she couldn’t keep it a secret from me, neither could whatever friend of mine it is. He certainly couldn’t.”

           “Why do you say that?”

           He takes another sip and waves his hand dismissively through the air. “None of my friends are good liars, particularly when it comes to Jane.”

           “Oh?”

           He doesn’t add that none of them can lie when it comes to you, either, because that seems like an over share you don’t need to know.

           “Yes, you’ve met Janie. She’s magnetic. All my friends fall at her feet because she’s beautiful, yes obviously. She’s strong and intelligent and funny. Every friend of mine, regardless of orientation or identification, is in love with her.”

           “Except you.”

           “I pay her too much money to be in love with her. Plus, she and I are oil and water, and not in a funfetti box mix,” Yoongi explains.

           You laugh, sipping your drink to hide how much you enjoyed his comment. You’ve spent a lot of time with Jane, between negotiations and fundraisers, but you don’t really know her. You’d like to, if she’s into the whole female friend thing.

           “I can see why everyone loves her, I mean, she’s great at her job too.”

           “And she’s a decent person, which is why I’m not surprised my friends want to sleep with her, but I can’t believe she wants to sleep with one of them,” Yoongi explains.

           “Your friends that bad?”

           “No – just… they’re men. Men are inherently horrible.” He doesn’t need to explain it, you’re fully aware the extent to which men as a concept and in practice, can suck.

           “Ah.”

           “I have one friend, Namjoon, who has been in love with Jane since the minute she became my agent. He is weak at the knees for her… but if they were together, no way Namjoon wouldn’t be screaming it from the rooftops.”

           “So that automatically eliminates him?” You ask.

           “I think so.”

           “What if he’s just matured and totally could be hiding it from you?”

           “Namjoon? No, no way.” He says.

           “Who else is there?”

           “Hoseok.”

           “Would he?”

           He shakes his head. “No, he’s self-described sex negative, plus Jane scares him.”

           “She scares him?”

           “Yes, he’s, not delicate, but delicate.”

           “I get that, before I came into my power, I was quite delicate too. Still am,” You tell him.

           “It’s good, to be soft,” Yoongi shrugs. “I think I get a reputation for being a cold hearted, uninterested basic man but I’m not.”

           “I don’t think anyone would use any of those words to describe you.”

           “No?” You’re surprised.

           “No, not from the readings you’ve done, or the way you interact with your fans and their parents.” You say.

           “I suppose you’re right.”

           “Yes, I am.”

           “What about you? How do you think people perceive you?”

           “Oh,” You sit back, adjusting your necklace. How do people view you? “Before or after the scandal?”

           “The scandal?”

           “Do you not – you don’t know?” You’re genuinely shocked, how could he not know, didn’t everyone in the literary world know?

           “Should I?”

           “Shit,” You take a large swig from your drink. “I – you know the author, Taehyung Kim?”

           “Yes.”

           “Remember a few years ago when it came out that he was dating two women, and then he turned it into a best seller?”

           “Yes, that book was…. A lot. And that title!”

           “Oh, Two Affairs to Remember? Yeah, horrible.”

           “I can’t believe he capitalized on his own disgusting relationships. I mean what kind of a person does that?” Yoongi asks.

           You stare at him, preparing to drop the bombshell that will inadvertently change how he sees you completely. Which, you don’t want. You want him to keep seeing you the way he has been. As a powerhouse, a force, a woman in charge and with a plan. But you can’t lie, not about this.

“I was one of the women,” You say softly.  

           “What?” Yoongi asks.

           “I was one of his girlfriends.”

           “How?”

           “I didn’t know he was seeing someone else when he started seeing me… I didn’t know he was in a relationship at all. I thought he and I were just, dating. Keeping it a secret because I was editing his first book… Everything seemed fine, until we got caught and it exploded.”

           “Did you – did you love him? Sorry, that’s too much isn’t it?” He asks.

           “No, I was definitely falling in love with him. How could I not? He built me a world where we could be in love, but he was also in love with someone else, someone he’d been seeing for far longer who didn’t know I existed.”

           “You got caught – would you have stayed with him if you didn’t know?”

           “I can’t answer that Yoongi. Maybe we would be married and he’d still be cheating on me. I don’t know.”

           “I’m sorry, that wasn’t a fair question. I shouldn’t have asked. The whole world knew?”

           “Yes. Which is why I thought you knew.”

           “I didn’t. I mean I read the book – oh my god what happened with his book?”

           “I, you don’t know?” You’re shocked again, how does he not know these very public, very well documented moments from the last few years?

           “Clearly I don’t know anything about this.”

           “I edited it. It’s, it’s what got me this job. So, when you ask how people perceive me… It’s not totally positive.”

           “How have I never heard any of this?”

           You finish your drink, spinning the ice around your empty glass. “You don’t strike me as someone who pays attention to gossip or the rumor mill.”

           “I’m not, but something that big… I knew his book was based on his life I didn’t know…”

           “No, and I’m glad when you signed with Serendipity that you didn’t,” You say.  

           “It wouldn’t have mattered. Your reputation, for whatever it’s worth, does proceed you. You’re a powerhouse, Y/N. Seriously, it’s intimidating,” Yoongi tells you.

           “I – thank you, Yoongi. That means a lot.”

           “So, you were dating him, and he had a whole other life, then he wrote a book about it and what, told all your secrets?”

           “That’s why I edited it, I got to control the narrative. So no, he didn’t tell the world my secrets. I wouldn’t let him.”

           “That’s power.” He says, honestly impressed.

           “That’s a contract.”

           Yoongi smiles at you, broad and wide with his gums showing. It’s endearing, how heartily he is grinning at you.

           “You’re cute,” You comment.

           “I am?” He asks.

           “Your mom calls you dumpling, isn’t that evidence enough that you’re cute?”

           “Sure, but cute to my mother and cute to you are two different kinds of cute, aren’t they?”

           “I suppose it would be problematic if they weren’t.”

           “Exactly. So, thank you. You’re pretty fucking cute too.”

           “So, tell me,” You start, sipping your third cocktail. Yoongi’s on his second double of whiskey, a little tipsy and silly across the table. Your feet have bumped a couple of times, sending shockwaves through you.

           “Yes?”

           “You single?”

           “What’s it to you?” Yoongi asks.

           “Just curiosity.”

           “It killed the cat, you know.”

           “That I do, but I’ve never strayed from a fight.”

           “I’m single. Are you?”

           “Yeah, haven’t really dated or be interested in anyone since the whole Taehyung thing.”

           “That’s understandable. What would happen if you were interested in someone?”

           “Depends on who that someone is. If say, Harry Styles asked me out, I’d say yes without a doubt. But if say, Seokjin did, I’d say no.”

           “Because he’s hideous and a total asshole?” Yoongi asks.

           “Because he works for me and I’m not, nor have I ever been interested in dating Seokjin.”

           It was pointed, you bringing Jin into this conversation, because what Jane said had struck you. Maybe Yoongi did think you were interested in him, or could be at some point in time. Which seemed like an impossibility to you and so implausible, but it mattered enough that you decided to bring it up to Yoongi. Tell him straight, point blank, no way to interpret it: you are not interested in Jin.

           “Tell me about your last relationship,” You ask. “It’s only fair.”

           “It was less, public… We just, grew apart and wanted different things. He wanted this massive career, and dedicated time for his art which I distracted him from. I wanted to keep exploring our relationship. We lasted maybe six months; I think?”

           “The six-month ones often hurt so much more than the ones that last years, at least in my experience.”

           “Yes, it wasn’t a great breakup, but it was good enough that we’re friends now and I wish him nothing but the best.”

           “That’s evolved.”

           “It is, I like being evolved, and emotionally intelligent.”

           “Oo, I love when people have emotional intelligence.”

           “It’s kind of,” Yoongi pauses, thinking of the correct adjective.

           “Sexy, and impressive,” You say.

           “Exactly,” Yoongi doesn’t know if he just admitted to being sexy in your eyes, but if he did… he’ll take it.

           “Well, not to cut this short, but it is ten o’clock and I have work in the morning, scheduling meetings with an unruly writer and editor about to turn grey from the stress,” You say. The bill has been sitting on your table for at least an hour.

          “We talked business, so I’ve got it.” You brandish the company card and smile genially at the waiter as they take it.

          “So, if we do this again but don’t talk business, it’ll be on me,” Yoongi says.  

          “Will that make it a date?”

          “I don’t know,” He says. Because there’s rules, so many rules that he knows you aren’t telling him.

          You both stand to leave and Yoongi, ever the gentleman walks you to your car.

          “Do we hug goodbye?” He asks, standing awkwardly next to your now open car door.

          “I think so?” You say. He nods and takes a hesitant step towards you, arms out for an embrace. You meet him, hugging him gingerly. The hug lasts probably longer than it should between colleagues, and the blush that is shared between you is deep and visible in the summer evening light.

           “Text me when you get home,” He says, pulling away first.

           “Will do. And same to you.”

Yoongi: Made it home

You: Same here

Yoongi: I had a lot of fun tonight, after the whole being yelled at by my boss part

You: It was really fun, after that part

Yoongi: We should do it again, sooner rather than later

You: Oh, so no more waiting a month to see me?

Yoongi: You don’t want to wait a month, do you?

You: No, not particularly

Yoongi: A non-work drink

You: Or a work drink

Yoongi: Okay, our next meeting can be over drinks

You: Great, and not a date

           Yoongi stares at the message you’ve sent. Not a date? Okay that clears things up but why is he so upset by it? Obviously, he wants it to be a date. He very much wants to hold your hand and gaze into your eyes and maybe if you feel like it, kiss him. Wouldn’t that be… romantic? So romantic, a summer breeze, walking down the street after an ice cream cone or drinks at The Ruby Poppy again… He’d pull you in so softly, hand reaching to rest on the soft skin of your hip. He’d dip his head, just enough to kiss you lightly. The flap of a butterfly wings, and maybe you’d pull him closer. Take the initiative to deeper the kiss. Your lips would feel incredible, soft and purposeful, he’d kiss you back so deeply it would knock the wind out of both of you.

           Yoongi should stop thinking about kissing you before he has a hard on and has to think about you, in compromising positions, to relieve himself.

Yoongi: Right, working drinks

You: I don’t mean to waffle on it – I just need us to be super clear about what this is

Yoongi: Colleagues. I get it

You: Okay, great. Again, I had so much fun tonight

Yoongi: I did too, you’re good company

You: So are you, Yoongi

Yoongi: I’ll look forward to your calendar invite

You: I’ll send it first thing tomorrow

Next: The Littlest Dumpling {4}

#justasparkwritings #justasparkmaster #the littlest dumpling #min yoongi #houseofddaeng #purplearmynet #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kpopccc #OT7 series #BTS series #Min yoongi x reader #Min Yoongi x you #lil king yoongi

[kaunis-sielu]

Schoolyard: 9

It’s fun watching Thor work. He charms and chats with people, making them feel important and listening to their suggestions. You know that you’re just eye candy here, but when one man starts talking about vaccines and how ineffective they are you can’t stay quiet,

“I mean herd immunity right?” He says with a laugh.

“Actually, herd immunity should only be used in cases where a person physically cannot get immunized due to other health conditions. It shouldn’t be used just because someone doesn’t want to get an immunization.” The man laughs uncomfortably then gives Thor what you assume is his attempt at a charming smile.

“It’s like she’s a doctor or something.” He laughs and Thor looks coldly down at the other man.

“Mr. Pierce, my wife is a doctor.” He says shortly.

“W-wife?” Mr. Pierce says looking embarrassed.

“What kind of doctor are you?” T’Challa, the King of Wakanda and a friend of Thor’s asks.

“Pediatric. I just worked my last few days for a while but plan on getting back to it when I can.”

“Being Queen is a lot of responsibility.” T’Challa’s wife Nakia says, “it takes dedication to have a job outside of that but it’s possible.”

“I don’t need full time, just something to make me feel like I’m doing something good with my time.”

“I understand completely.” She says with a kind smile. You’ve got a feeling that you and Nakia are going to be good friends.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, although it seems that Mr. Pierce has a big mouth because several people come and congratulate you and Thor on your marriage. Some even seem a bit put out that they weren’t invited to the wedding. Neither of you give them any answers, you still don’t know how this conversation is going to go but you’d rather keep quiet until you can get it out of the way.

You step out for a moment, just needing a second alone, well with Bryn on your six, for a minute. Frigga was right, when you’re not in the crowded room it’s chilly and the little gauze fabric isn’t really enough. You’re looking over the pediatric wing when the soft material is draped over your shoulders.

“Elskede.”

“Thank you, krigeren min.” He smiles at the nickname.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just a lot. Now everyone knows that we’re married and I don’t know how I feel about any of this.”

“I know it’s a lot, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called you my wife but I lost my temper.”

“Ah, so you’re not perfect.” You tease and he laughs.

“No, and if you ever need reminders just ask Loki. They will tell you.”

“Yes they will.” You agree with a little smile.

“We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

“One more glass of champagne? I’d like to say goodbye to Nakia and T’Challa too.”

“Of course. We have an open invite to go and visit them if you’d like.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ve heard Wakanda is incredible.”

“One of my favorite places to go.” He agrees as you turn and walk back toward the party. You slip your hand into his as you walk, it’s so natural now to just be touching him. When you get back into the room one of the men gives you a look that you don’t like then approaches.

“Excuse me. I read that you were cheating on the Crown Prince with people in the States. Is that true?” You stare at him, surprise on your face.

“Volstagg. Remove this man.” Thor orders, his deep voice carrying causing several people to look, “I will not allow such disrespect.” Volstagg hurries the man away from you.

“I’d like to go.” You say softly and Thor nods. He gives T’Challa a handshake and you and Nakia hug then he places a protective hand on your lower back and guides you out of the building. While you wait for the car Thor takes your hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“Don’t pay him any mind Elskede.” He says when you look up at him.

“It’s hard not to. I know what he said isn’t true but it still makes me look bad.”

“Min dronning,” he practically rumbles the words, “how can I make it better?”

“Just, let me process this okay? Be patient with me?”

“Of course.” He agrees pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. God he makes you weak in the knees. You follow Bryn down the the car then curl into Thor on the drive home. He keeps an arm around you as you ride back to the house, neither of you say much, he just trails his fingers up and down your arm.

When you get back you say goodnight to Sif and Volstagg then head to your room. Before you can get there you run into Odin.

“Father? You should be resting.”

“I’m fine. I need to speak to you.”

“I’ll leave you alone.” You tell them before pressing a soft kiss to Thor’s cheek.

“No, both of you.” Odin says gesturing for the two of you to follow him back to his rooms. Once you’re there he points at the seat for you to sit.

“I’ve come to a decision.”

“About what father?” Thor asks and when you look at him he looks as puzzled as you feel.

“I’m going to abdicate the throne to you.”

“Yes, father we’ve talked about this. After we get our annulment I’ll take the throne.” Thor says and you’re surprised, you had no idea this was happening.

“No, I’m abdicating in two days.” You gasp and Thor cries,

“What?” As Odin holds up a hand to silence you both.

“I have less than six months to live. The doctor told your mother and I tonight. I still have things I need to teach you but the best way to do so is with you as King. Besides, I want to live the remainder of my time with my wife. Being an old married couple.”

“Father-.”

“Thor, my Son. My first born and my heir, I know this isn’t what you wanted or had planned but this is what needs to happen.”

“This isn’t what the plan was!”

“I know.” Odin is calm but Thor is anything but. He storms out of the room and you’re left sitting there with Odin. He goes to follow him when you stand,

“I’ve got this. Please, rest, give yourself as much time as you can with them.” You tell him and he gives you a tight smile before you follow Thor out the door nearly crashing into his sibling. “Loki?”

“I saw him leave, I know where he will go and I’ll bring you there but you can’t tell him it was me.”

“Why?”

“Just in case he’s mad, he won’t get mad at you like he will me.”

“Deal.” You tell them and they lead you away from Odin’s room. “Do you know what Odin spoke to him about?”

“Yes, father is abdicating. We don’t have much time left with our father do we?” Loki asks softly as the two of you move quickly through the palace.

“There are some things we can try, but they won’t cure him. Just give him more time. I’m sorry.” Loki nods once, they don’t say anything until they stop before a short corridor with a tapestry hanging in it. They move the tapestry to one side and you see another small hallway.

“He should be in there, left hand door way at the end of the hallway.”

“Thank you Loki.” You tell them giving their hand a squeeze. Sure enough you find Thor storming back and forth in the small room. You don’t say anything, he throws a bottle across the room where it shatters into pieces, then sinks down onto the older couch in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry.” He says gruffly and you move slowly into the room. You step in between his legs and he wraps his arms around you. He takes a deep shuddering breath and you rest one hand on his shoulder and card the fingers of your other hand through his hair.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” You assure him softly, it’s then his shoulders begin to shake and soft sobs escape him. You let him cry against you, just carding your fingers through his hair.

“I’m not ready.” He says, his voice thick.

“You’re not ready for what?”

“To lose my father.”

“Oh Honey.” You soothe, that’s what this is all about. You thought maybe he was upset about having to become King too soon, or not having time to annul your marriage before doing so, but that’s not it. This is about a boy being afraid to lose his father. “You still have time min kjærlighet, there are things we can try. I’m not making promises that they’ll work but we can try.”

“Thank you.” He says into your torso, before falling silent again. When he speaks again it’s in a much more steady voice, “Did Loki bring you here?”

“I am not supposed to confirm or deny that.” He gives a small huff of a laugh.

“I’m glad they did.” He’s quiet again before he says softly, “Jeg elsker deg.”

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[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random stuff on songs in Sansa I ~ AFFC

All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence.

Sansa loves songs, but in truth they are just a sanitised version of history. Sansa's role in history will be big, from her stay at King's Landing to her return to Winterfell, on and on. She's already part of a song, she's just not aware of it.

And the songs he chose . . . He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness.

No matter where she went in the castle, Sansa could not escape the music.

This is the history she has not lived yet. We know this is true because the very first, the Dance of the Dragons, has a second equivalent that has just only started and hasn't affected her as of yet (not even in her first chapter of TWOW).

Anyway, three songs: Dance of the Dragons, Florian and Jonquil, and Duncan and Jenny.

It floated up the winding tower steps, found her naked in her bath, supped with her at dusk, and stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters tight. It came in on the cold thin air, and like the air, it chilled her.

There are four moments these songs catch her in. It's the second that gives it away as to how it should be interpreted because they match 1:1. But starting from the start...

"He sang of the Dance of the Dragons" VERSUS "It floated up the winding tower steps."

The Dance of the Dragons redux has started when Young Griff outed himself as Aegon VI and invaded Westeros. He opened the "hostilities" when he refused to grovel for Daniella's favour and went to get his birthright himself. Daniella will also participate because she sees the throne as her birthright and has no problems usurping the rightful heirs (Viserys). It's likely Jon will be dragged into this, as he's Targaryen as well.

"It floated up the winding tower steps" projects the idea of an upwards movement. The dragon song is coming up North. There are two options here, Sansa will flee North because the dragon war reaches the Vale (in whatever form, even if by rumour) straight to the arms of another dragon (Girl in Grey) and / or the dragon war will eventually come North. It's my conviction that the Targaryen brothers will fight each other for a time (Aegon's Conquest meets Northern Independence) before reaching a truce, which would qualify as part of the Dance of Dragons.

"Jonquil and her fool" VERSUS "found her naked in her bath"

This is the most obvious sign that they should be paired as said, since Florian and Jonquill's story is literally that, Florian finding Jonquill naked in a pool and falling in love with her. There is more to this story (it also involves dragons), but in specific the bath part is mentioned here. BTW this is a stupid story. Nobody falls in love with another because they see them naked, at most they fall in lust. Regardless, if Sansa is up North (either way from the previous song she's already there and as of TWOW she's heading there soon), then there's one candidate, the Winterfell Hot Springs.

We can guess a male finds Sansa naked at the Hot Springs, and something that can be passed of as romance happens. Much like before, there are several ways this can come to be but there are only two characters that are associated with frisky times in the Godswood of Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow. The former is too traumatised by sexual torture while the latter has fantasies of bathing naked with his woman and then have exibitionist sex in front of the Heart Tree, so the latter is the likelier candidate.

I know it's not a popular theory because it's somewhat disgusting, but it all adds up. The Stark kids bathed naked at the Hot Springs (Bran confirms this in ACOK, but this also happens at the Water Gardens until they're 12-14,). A 12-14 male teen is at that age when they start getting "interested" in the opposite sex (only worse if thy parade around naked), so imagine a teen getting "interested" in someone they shouldn't at the weekly Stark kids bathing routine and this horrifies them so much because tHeY'Re NoT tArGaRyEnS to the point of wanting to join a celibate order, sacrificing their biggest wish (family). And that's remembered by this teen, now a man, in a "take two" of this event. Truly a fool though, as he knows nothing about "tArGaRyEnS" or that they're actually not siblings.

"Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies" VERSUS "supped with her at dusk, and stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters tight"

"supped with her at dusk" projects the idea of just before the night starts, which in ASOIAF also projects the idea of the Long Night and before winter. Such this all gives us the time frame, just before the dead come. You know, around the time the northern campaign happens. It's my conviction, from a number of feasts Sansa attends where she supped "trouts", that this suggests the norther campaign will likely extend to the Riverlands and may meet with Aegon's Conquest campaign (Dance of Dragons V2, congruent with song 1).

"stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters" projects the idea of a thief getting inside an intimate place (where she sleeps, where her bed is) despite her best efforts not to. The simpler conclusion is rape. The most likely conclusion though, is something much more benign.

"stole into her bedchamber" in ASOIAF is associated with wildling custom of marriage. Most (if not all) accounts of this ritual involve the man getting the woman while she's asleep. I can recall three stories where it happened as such. Bael stole a Stark maiden from her bed. Yggrite accuses Jon of stealing her the night the Night's Watch raided their camp, she's the one that was asleep. Longspear stole Munda from her bed while she was asleep. Interestingly, the first is a Stark, the others are redheads. These fit Sansa perfectly.

So Sansa stolen by a wilding or someone that qualifies as one. Any will do, but in specific there's a character that has already been mentioned twice in regards with these songs and also fits into this one. Jon Snow has been accused of having become a wildling / half-wildling due to spending time with them and making peace with them. He was accused of stealing Ygritte but refused that he did it, considered stealing another to make a family but also refused to usurp Sansa's claim (we'll get to that below), so there's a third coming up for him.

"even when she latched the shutters" suggests resistance and that's also according to wildling custom, as the woman is supposed to fight against stealing. While a wildling woman fights physically, Sansa fights psychologically. As for sex, Sansa fought against Sandor with kindness and fought against Tyrion with courtesy, so neither succeeded in stealing her. However, Sansa "latching the shutters" suggests a different kind of resistance than those used before (both Sandor and Tyrion entered her bedchamber without stealing into it), as if she put barriers in place.

Sansa putting up barriers happens in ASOS / AFFC. She doesn't believe anyone will marry her for love ("It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love.") and she doesn't really want to marry again. ("A marriage . . ." Her throat tightened. She did not want to wed again, not now, perhaps not ever."). Such, "stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters" suggests that Jon convinces her otherwise. The question is... how.

"Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies" Now, for the song that goes with it, is also kind of telling. The story of Jenny and Duncan is about Duncan falling in love with Jenny and abdicating so he can marry her. So someone throws away their claim, breaking through Sansa's belief that nobody will marry for love but for her claim, and will ease her into wanting to marry again.

Jon actually has two claims. The first is Robb's will, which names Jon as his heir over Sansa. Jon wanting to void the will not only follows the Jenny and Duncan song (the man throws away his claim for the woman) it also destroys half of Sansa's barrier (he protects her claim, we already know he did this once per Stannis' insistence, incidently stealing a woman was mentioned, as said before it appears it's all thematically linked).

The second is by birth, as he's Rhaegar Targarye's son. If somehow Jon is legitimate, then he's King Aegon VI's heir until he has children, and he's also a prince. If I recall, most of Sansa's allusions around a Targ union are with a Targaryen prince, not a Targaryen king). If Jon is a bastard, then he'll be considered a threat to a Aegon VI, just like every bastard is (the Targaryens are well known for bloody wars between legitimates and bastards). I would assume this will be a doozy for brothers to deal with.

Somehow, either or both claims should have a hand in convincing Sansa that Jon would want to marry her for love instead of her claim as well as convincing Sansa to marry again. Robb's will clearly covers the former but not the latter (she can't marry her brother, tHeY'Re NoT LaNnIsTeR oR TaRgArYeNs, even though they are). However, Jon's second claim is what allows that marriage. For example, if Aegon accepts peace between the South belonging to him and the North belonging to Sansa as long as Jon throws away hs claim, yeah that's it. But any that fits the Duncan and Jenny story as well as Sansa being stolen despite her misgivings, will do.

It's worth noting Robb's will and it's implications (Sansa being usurped and Jon's kids being a threat to the legitimate line) are discussed at lenght between Cat and Robb at Oldstones, precisely where legend says Jenny and Duncan met (or where she came from, I cannot remember now the specifics), next to a sepulcher that represents Jon's true birthright as a Targaryen (the sepulcher is of a king with a warhammer upon his chest, which is how his father Rhaegar died, and covered with wild roses, which are a symbol of his mother Lyanna), and solves Robb's will implications (they can marry each other, so his children are hers, so they're no threat to the Stark legitimate line). As said, all tightly thematically linked and I cannot blieve this us a coincidence.

It came in on the cold thin air, and like the air, it chilled her. Though it had not snowed upon the Eyrie since the day that Lady Lysa fell, the nights had all been bitter cold.

So Dance of Dragons starts (Aegon's Conquest), some shenanigans at Winterfell's Hot Springs, then some claim throwing to the trash and a marriage. And after that comes winter. So it kind of suggests this all happens BEFORE the War of the Dawn, not after.

After the songs bit, we have the "meat" of the chapter, which is what the whole thing revolves around. Petyr and Sansa must lie about Lysa's fate to both Robyn and the Vale Lords. I would just like to point the following.

“Some lies are love, ” Petyr had assured her. She reminded him of that.

“When we lied to Lord Robert, that was just to spare him, ” she said.

“And this lie may spare us. Else you and I must leave the Eyrie by the same door Lysa used.” Petyr picked up his quill again. “We shall serve him lies and Arbor gold, and he’ll drink them down and ask for more, I promise you.”

He is serving me lies as well, Sansa realized. They were comforting lies, though, and she thought them kindly meant. A lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant.

Petyr, who's pretending to be Sansa's father, lied to her cousin Robyn about his mother, to spare him from the pain of the truth. Likewise Ned, who's Sansa's father, most likely lied to her cousin Jon about his mother, to spare him from the pain of the truth. Some lies are love, they are kindly meant.

Petyr, who's sort of Warden of the East for the time being, must lie to the Vale's lords & company about Lysa's fate, as he believes if he told the truth, he and his fake child (Sansa) would die. Likewise Ned, who's Warden of the North, must also lie to the rest of the realm about Lyanna's fate (death by childbirth), as he believes if he told the truth, he and his fake child (Jon) would die. Some lies spare innocents (Sansa / Jon), they are also kindly meant.

There's more stuff, but I don't feel like writing it now.

I always lol at Sansa's cousin being upset about his mother's death so he soughts her bed to nuzzle at her breasts and wet the bed (*shifts eyes*). This is important because Sansa bars the door to keep him out ("she latched the shutters"), yet at the end of the chapter, her cousin gets inside anyway ("stole into her chambers") because she forgot to bar the door. No idea what's that supposed to suggest, right?

#jonsa #should i tag this that if its just random thoughts with no finesse

[alj4890]

I have an ask. We know in TRR Book 3 Ch10 Drake is the one being challenged by Neville but what if The King is the one to challenge Neville? After all he’s the one that would talk down to Riley during book 3 and nit once did Liam stand up for her during those times? So I wonder if Liam knew what Neville had said to his future Queen what would his reaction would be. I feel at least that Riley had the choice to punch him! Lol

A/N: Okay, seriously. WHY didn't all the other love interests tell Neville off?! He even annoyed Olivia with his pouting and whines. I get the tension between him and Drake and all; but Neville was talking bad behind Liam's back about his choice to elevate MC to becoming a duchess regardless of whether or not she was engaged to Liam. He was such a jerk to Hana and who in their right mind could be mean to her??? As protective and sacrificial as Maxwell was, (he did show getting ticked off whenever Neville opened his mouth), why wasn't there a dance fight between the two🤣 Now that my mini rant is over, let's see what would happen if Neville pushed Liam too far.

Masterlist

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Too Far

It wasn't noticeable at first.

He even somehow managed to make friends.

Neville had a way that made him appear as the perfect example of a gentlemanly noble. His cultured tone uttering compliments and his ability to appear humble before his betters had assured his place within Cordonia's high society. Being heir to an earldom and not too horrible to look upon also set him up in life to have a variety of ladies to choose from.

Or so he believed.

When Prince Leo abdicated, the nobles of Cordonia were actually laughed at by the rest of the world. The teasing began with mere good natured ribbing at parties of how unfaithful a Cordonian must be.

It was enough to sour any disposition, especially one that was already so.

Neville Vancoeur kept his noble mask firmly in place. Nothing was going to stop him from his destiny.

Nothing. No one. 

But the newest crown prince was best friends with, it was disgusting simply thinking of the word, a commoner. A commoner! What noble much less a direct descendant of the king himself would ever align themselves with someone who was absolutely worthless

Yet, the embarrassment that was Prince Liam didn't end there. He then went on to favor a poor waitress from America of all places. A waitress. He redeemed himself in Neville's eyes when he chose Countess Madeleine Amaranth of Fydelia to be Cordonia's queen. Though he didn't quite understand why the normally shrewd countess would allow the waitress to travel with the nobility, perhaps it was to give Drake Walker a playmate (one has to entertain pets, he supposed) he accepted it as a way to appease the people they ruled over.

Then New York happened. King Liam threw aside a well respected, birthed to perfection noble for that mongrel American who did not possess the first clue of how to behave amongst Cordonia's elite court.

Neville would have found it humorous if he was not permanently tied to his country.

To top it all off, not only was he forced to endure such unworthy company, he was shamed in front of them by some minor noble who had failed to win Liam. He blamed that brief moment of weakness for finding Lady Hana attractive on being inadvertently influenced by what had to be Drake and Riley's baser inclinations.

There was only one action left to a man so much more above these lowly peasants.

He was going to have to put these people in their proper place.

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

Liam knew that some of his fellow nobles took their positions as some sort of right in lording over those they considered their inferiors. It had never sat easy with him. He himself had a mother who had been a, "simple commoner". Yet, being in the tenacious situation he was in as a new king, he had to ignore for the most part their rude behavior.

But there was only so much he could stand when it came to the one he loved.

He knew something was going on the night of Madeleine's ball. As he stood on the other side of the ballroom, listening to Duke Godfrey drone on and on, he noticed Drake bump into the future earl. He knew there were very few nobles his best friend respected so seeing the flash of anger was normal.

Riley's though was surprising.

That unusual bitter twist to her normal, friendly smile followed by what he could only assume were heated words between his love and Neville made him feel the need to rush over and place himself between them. That desire to protect Riley was so strong that his body had already turned to leave Godfrey mid sentence.

But then Neville walked away.

Maxwell's brief sadness followed by Hana's irritation had him focusing once more on Riley's anger turning to resigned acceptance. Her relaxed stance returned as his group of friends found a table to sit and enjoy their meal.

He knew then that he would need to keep an eye on Lord Neville for the rest of the Unity Tour.

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

It didn't surprise him at all the insults and tension between Drake and Neville during the charity polo match. Liam felt sorry for Rashad and Maxwell being stuck on their team and forced to work with the two men that seemed to truly despise one another.

Liam also felt a large bit of pride when Riley used Neville's refusal to pass to Drake to score.

He also was relieved that Neville had not turned his disdain toward her.

Perhaps he was beginning to respect his future queen.

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

It shouldn't have affected Liam like it did. Maybe it was the fact he was under so much pressure from keeping his father's cancer hidden, the fear from hearing he had been rushed to the hospital, all the terrorist attacks and threats, and then having to focus on pampered nobles instead of actually running his kingdom that caused him to lose his last shred of patience.

This ball was one that he had looked forward to. It would be the first of his escorting his Riley before the court. He had waited so long for such a moment to show his world how proud he was to have won her heart.

And Neville had to ruin it during their first dance.

The heated exchange of words escalated when Riley jumped in to defend Drake. Liam could see the utter hatred and lack of respect Neville had for the two people he was closest to. The way the young lord talked down to his beloved sent a bitter resolve through Cordonia's king.

"I've had enough of your insolence!" Neville snapped.

Liam saw his hand reach for his pocket and begin to withdraw a white glove. Before he could think through what he was about to do, he slapped Neville with the back of his hand, cutting short the challenge the lord was about to issue to Drake.

The entire court gasped. Silence fell as all watched this rare occurrence of Liam losing his temper.

"I've had enough of your insolence." Liam bit out. "Lord Neville, I challenge you to a duel."

Neville paled. His eyes darted around the ballroom, searching for anyone who might possibly be on his side. Seeing no sympathy, his chin lifted.

"I accept." His voice cracked slightly.

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

"Liam, why are you doing this?" Riley gripped his hand as they walked out to the courtyard.

"I'm tired of his attitude." Liam explained. "Especially around you."

"I can handle his snide remarks." She countered. "What I can't handle is the thought of you possibly getting hurt."

Liam paused and slipped his arm around her waist. "You don't think I can take him?"

She smiled, looping her arms around his neck. "I know you can." She snared him with a tender kiss. "Just make it fast. There's a certain king I want to slow dance with."

His lips curved once more before turning toward the growing crowd. "As my queen wishes, so it shall be."

With a wink to her, he removed his sword from its sheath with a dramatic flourish.

Her delighted laughter followed him as he faced his opponent.

Neville swallowed uncomfortably as Constantine laid out the rules for the duel.

He barely managed to block Liam's blows, footsteps retreating most of the time. His lip curled into a snarl when the new king sliced into his blazer.

"My lady was right," Liam taunted, "that is a dreadful dinner jacket."

Neville's cheeks burned when those watching nearby chuckled. Each time he tried to make an offensive strike, Liam not only blocked it but somehow turned it into a point in his favor.

At one point they locked swords. Neville hated he had to tilt his head up to meet Liam's eyes. He hadn't expected to see the coldness there.

"You will apologize to Riley and Drake." Liam commanded in a low tone. "You will also never speak to either of them with such disrespect again."

"Why should I?" Neville breathed. "They need to learn to respect their betters."

"Really?" Liam's tone held a sinister edge. 

With an elegant spin that happened in the blink of an eye, he knocked his opponent’s sword out of his hand, caught it in mid air with his free one, and had both blades crossed with Neville's neck in the middle.

"Well done!" Constantine cheered from the sideline.

Riley let out a whoop as she hurried over to Liam's side. 

"Wasn't there something you wished to say to her grace, Lord Neville?" Liam asked

Neville's ready sneer died when he felt a slight nick to his tender skin.

"Forgive me, your grace." He managed to say without choking. "I will remember my manners when next we meet."

Riley gave a regal nod of acceptance.

Liam lowered the swords. "You're dismissed."

Neville scurried through the amused crowd, keeping his eyes downcast.

Riley yanked Liam into a passionate kiss once all the compliments were given and the crowd dispersed.

"My lady?" He asked with a grin. "What brought that on?"

"Nothing except my impressive Prince Charming fighting for me." She responded. "Perhaps he would like to find somewhere more private where I can better express my admiration."

"As you wish." He handed his swords to a servant as the couple sneaked away for a moment alone.

#king liam x riley #liam x riley #choices fanfic writers creations #choices the royal romance #liam trr #request #choices fic writers creations

[alarawriting]

52 Project #24: The Princesses and the Peas

(Inspired by a post on Tumblr and if I can ever find it again I will link it here.)

(Not proofread, beta’ed, or even read through a second time because this is massively late and if I don’t post within the next hour it will officially be next week everywhere in the United States and I will have failed in my mission. I’ll try to re-read and proofread and edit next week. Also this note is highly unprofessional, but I learned my relationship to my audience through fanfic, so this is how I roll.)

***

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, almost but not entirely like this one, of the queen who sought the perfect wife for her son, the crown prince.

The queen had ruled the land alone since the death of her husband. She was praised for her wisdom and her benevolence toward her people. But she was no longer young, and it was time to make sure her son made a politically beneficial marriage, to strengthen his position when it came time for him to take the crown. Many in the land whispered that the young man would make a terrible king, and wanted him to abdicate in favor of his younger sister, who was beautiful and bright and smiling. Celia, the young sister, could look anyone in the eye and make them believe that in that moment, they were the most important person in her world. Arien, the prince… could not do that.

The prince had a talent for mathematics, and it had expressed itself very young. Some said he should be the chancellor of the exchequer rather than the king. But Queen Leyta knew her son would make a compassionate and wise ruler as well as a prudent one. He also had a gift for seeing the humanity behind the numbers he calculated, of being able to think of the impact they would have on the people he would one day rule.

Once, when he was a child of six, his nursemaid lost him. Leyta found him behind the kitchens, picking through the garbage bins to find table scraps. She would have punished the kitchen staff for allowing such a thing, but Arien insisted that she should not. “It’s not their fault, Mother. I ordered them to let me, and I’m the prince, so they had to obey me. I told them that if you became angry at them I would tell you that they were only obeying my orders. They can’t get in trouble for obeying their liege.”

Leyta sighed. She could punish them for obeying their liege, when their liege was 6 and the thing he wanted to do was eat garbage, but she wouldn’t, because she knew why they obeyed. When the prince was thwarted, he would ask why. And if he received an answer, he would argue with it and present his position. Sometimes, this debate would lead to him accepting the necessity, and calmly going about his business, seeming to forget all about what he’d asked. More often, if he didn’t get an answer to “why”, or he didn’t like the answer and thought it didn’t make sense, and he was still thwarted, he would start to scream and hide under tables, or scream and run around and break things, or scream and slam his head into the wall, and he wouldn’t stop even when offered the thing he wanted. It was very, very hard to calm him once he started shrieking. So instead of punishing the kitchen staff, she asked Arien, “Why were you eating garbage?”

“Our food is bought with the taxes we take from the people,” he said seriously. “If we wasted less food, we wouldn’t have to tax the people as sorely as we do, and they would have more money to buy things for themselves.”

So she took him aside and told him that the scraps were fed to the dogs, who helped the palace huntsmen bring down game, or the goats and fowl, who gave the palace milk, meat and eggs, or they were tilled into the ground to make the fields around the palace more fruitful. They did not, in fact, go to waste; food that wasn’t wholesome for humans to eat could still feed animals, who would turn it back into wholesome food.

Then she had a lengthy discussion with him about tax policy, and listened gravely to his suggestions as to how they could ease the burdens on the people, and told him what the problems with his ideas were. And when some of his ideas didn’t have significant problems, she told him so, and discussed them with him, and even implemented a few as policy.

Arien also had a great love for bugs. He spent much of his days wandering the grounds, sketching every insect he saw, capturing some to study them and figure out what they ate. When Leyta learned of this, she found a learned scholar of insects, and hired him to be Arien’s tutor in the matter of insects, only. The man was at first openly resentful of being required to work with a small child, assuming that Arien would be a spoiled princeling with no real interest in learning, but when he discovered Arien’s love for the tiny creatures, he embraced the boy wholeheartedly and tutored him as well as he could.

The prince had few friends. He was open and innocent, happy to make friends with any child close to his own age, but the honest children who truly wanted a playmate were put off by Arien’s tendency to talk about bugs and math almost constantly. The children who put up with Arien’s chatter were, to Leyta’s eyes, obviously coached by ambitious mothers, pretending to friendship with the strange young prince to improve their position at court. She arranged for most of these children to be sent away – either their mothers dismissed, or the family sent to one of the crown’s holdings with some duty to perform or another. Arien was saddened by the disappearance of his playmates, since he didn’t realize they saw him as mere stepping stones to power. Celia knew, and would comfort her brother as well as she could… but she didn’t have a lot of patience for math, tax policy, and insects either.

As he grew up, Arien continued to display a strange mixture of wisdom and childishness. He would run around the palace grounds, playing with children far younger than he was, and they were not old enough to try to manipulate him, so Queen Leyta left them alone. He enjoyed riding his horse and taking care of it, and was often found at the stables, for he believed his horse needed to cared for in just the exact way he did it, and he didn’t trust the stablehands to follow his instructions exactly. He would spend hours discussing the politics of the land and the problems facing various groups of his subjects with Leyta and her own advisors, and then he would scream and throw himself on the floor at dinner because a chef had put visible onions in his soup, and he would need to be put to bed with his favorite blanket and a knitted doll of a dog that he’d had when he was four.

People said that the boy was touched in the head, that he was slightly mad, and also, that a future king who threw temper tantrums over onions was not to be trusted. But they weren’t, exactly, tantrums, as Leyta saw them. They didn’t stop when the problem was solved, they usually didn’t include demands – in fact, usually it was hard to get the prince to explain what was wrong, because he seemed to lose much of his ability to speak when these fits came on him. And she could see in his eyes that he was terrified and overwhelmed, not angry and demanding. Arien needed the world to work a certain way, and when it did not, it left him adrift, frightened and lost in a world that seemed to make no sense to him anymore.

Some of these ways that the world needed to work involved food, and the importance of not being able to see onions, for an onion large enough to see was large enough to crunch in his mouth in a way that apparently was so disgusting it would make him lose his ability to eat all day. There were similar rules regarding peppers, and certain cream dishes. Other ways the world needed to work regarded his mother’s advisors treating him like their future king, not in terms of obsequious deference but in terms of actually listening to his ideas and explaining things to him – even when he was merely eight. And then there was the care of animals – his own animals needed to be cared for in an exact way, and if he saw anyone being cruel to an animal, he might actually become violent to that person. The same was true of stronger people being cruel to weaker ones. When he was fourteen, he heard a maid crying, and asked a kitchen maid to find out for him what had happened. And then, when he learned that a nobleman under his roof had ill used her and cast her aside, he went to his mother and demanded the man be whipped for his crimes. The political explanations she gave for why that couldn’t be done fell on deaf ears; he was a cruel man and he’d harmed someone he had power over, and that was all Arien cared about. Leyta only managed to satisfy him by sending the man on a probably futile sea expedition to try to find a cheaper source of rice.

This was the boy that Queen Leyta had to find a proper bride for.

Her mother-in-law, the Dowager Queen, had ideas, but it had been many years since the Dowager Queen had actually held any power; she was one of Leyta’s advisors now, nothing more. So the idea would have to be one that Leyta agreed with, herself.

A ball to introduce eligible young women with powerful families to the prince? No. The prince didn’t handle crowds or parties well, or meeting a lot of new people in one evening.

A series of daytime salons, where a small group of eligible women would converse over luncheon with the prince? No. That was still too many people and the prince  was self-conscious about people watching him eat.

Individual visits from each eligible young lady and her chaperones, to the palace, to meet with Arien, and also to be approved by Leyta? Yes! An excellent idea. Leyta had her secretary write up the invitations, to all the young women whose parents had written to her or the Dowager to express an interest.

In the palace was a suite of rooms that had been Leyta’s, once, when she’d lived in this palace to learn its ways before marrying the then-prince. She had that suite cleaned and prepared for the guests. Sleeping quarters to either side for the princess’s guards. Ladies-in-waiting to sleep in the antechamber outside the princess’s bedroom. And inside the princess’s bedroom, a bed heaped with several thick eiderdown duvets and pillows, incredibly soft, with sheets made from the finest linens.

And under the second eiderdown duvet, dried peas.

Queen Leyta tested the peas. When she sat on the bed, she couldn’t feel them. If she laid in the bed, she could barely tell they were there. But when she had Arien try it, he said, “You’re going to take them out before the guests come, right? The peas make the bed much too uncomfortable.”

“The peas,” Leyta said, “are to test whether a girl is right for you or not. It’s magic.”

Arien looked at her skeptically, unsure whether he believed in magic or not. “How are dried peas supposed to find me the right wife?”

“Magic,” Leyta said. “I can’t tell you exactly how it works. But it’s very important that you not tell them about the peas, or the magic won’t work.”

“Mother, I’m sixteen. I’m not a child. This whole story sounds ridiculous.”

“All right,” Leyta admitted. “It’s not magic, but I won’t be able to explain it to you until after it’s proven that it works, or doesn’t. But it is very important that you not tell any of your guests about it.”

Arien looked like he wanted to argue some more about it. Leyta said, “Trust me,” and he sighed, plainly remembering the number of times his mother had stood up for him or had come up with some scheme to help him.

“All right, Mother, but I’ll want that explanation afterwards.”

The Dowager Queen had her own theories. “You want to see if they can tell the peas are there?”

“To a certain extent,” Leyta said.

“You know that old wives’ tale about princesses being true and refined if they’re extremely sensitive is just a myth. I wasn’t a fragile flower who’d lose petals if you looked at her hard, and neither were you. And neither will Celia be.”

“I know that, Mother,” Leyta said – it was custom to address your mother-in-law as Mother, and Leyta’s own mother had died shortly after her wedding. The Dowager Queen had been the closest thing to a mother she’d had the entire time she was Queen. “I’m not testing for extreme skin sensitivity. Trust me.”

“It’d be hard for him to get an heir on a princess that fragile, don’t you think?” The Dowager chortled.

Leyta sighed. “No need to be crude about it. I have my reasons, and I’ll explain them to you, eventually. Let’s see if it works, first.”

***

The first princess was from the west. She had long straight hair and delicate-looking eyes with folded lids that left them shaped like almonds, rather than the eggs that the people of this realm wore in their face. She had pale creamy skin with a golden undertone, and she was demure and very polite, her etiquette perfect. She sat with Arien for hours, smiling at him with a face that expressed great interest, as he explained to her the complexities of life in a beehive.

In the morning, Leyta asked her, “How did you sleep?”

“Oh, wonderfully,” the princess said. “The bed was perfect! So soft! Your hospitality is wonderful.” She bowed her head.

Leyta saw her and her entourage off. When she returned, she asked Arien, “What did you think of her?”

“She was nice,” Arien said. “She listened to me. I’ve only had a few friends who listened to me, and they all moved away.”

Privately, without Arien present, the Dowager asked, “So what’s your verdict?”

“Unless none of them pass the test, she’s a no.”

***

The second princess was from the land immediately to the north. Her skin was tree- brown but as smooth as a tranquil lake, her hair floating around her head in a soft, curly cloud. Arien talked to her about beetles. She made excuses of not feeling well about half an hour into the beetle discussion.

When Leyta asked her how she slept, she said, “Your rooms are very nice. And the food last night was excellent, I’m so sorry I had to cut the evening short. But I feel fully rejuvenated today.”

Arien said, “She seemed okay, but she kept looking around while I was talking to her, so much that I think she gave herself motion sickness. I think that’s why she got sick.”

Leyta said to the Dowager, “A definite no.”

***

The third princess was from the far south. She had beautiful straight golden hair, cut short and asymmetrically, where it was shorter in the back than front and where it was parted on one side rather than in the middle.

She complained about her soup being cold. She complained about her roast beef being too bloody. She complained that the dessert course had small portions and also that it was too sweet. She screamed at servants for not bringing her wet towels for wiping her hands quickly enough and for refilling her wine glass too quickly. She insisted on talking to the seneschal about the servants who had served her, demanding that they be banished from the castle for incompetence. When Arien tried to talk to her, her demeanor was sweet, but every time he tried to talk to her about something he liked, she insisted that he show her another part of the castle. She made plans for room redecoration as if she had already become Arien’s queen.

In the morning, she was sickly sweet with Leyta, saying it was only a minor thing, really, but surely more competent servants could be found to make the bed? It was extremely lumpy. Leyta found out that she’d woken the chambermaids at 1 in the morning to demand an additional five featherbeds piled on top of hers.

Arien didn’t look at his mother. “Um… I don’t want to be impolite, but… I didn’t like her very much.”

The Dowager Queen said, “Please don’t tell me you’re considering that young harridan just because she could tell there were peas in the bed.”

“Oh, no. Not even for a moment,” said Leyta, and drew her quill through the name “Princess Carinna” on the list.

***

The fourth princess was actually the daughter of a powerful merchant, not an actual princess at all. She had deeply tanned skin and thick black hair, and beautiful dark eyes. She and Arien talked for hours about tax policy and accounting techniques, and she seemed genuinely interested.

She said the bed had been wonderful, and there was nothing wrong with it. Arien liked her. But Queen Leyta marked her as a provisional choice, the first on the list if no one passed her test.

***

And so it went with princess after princess. Most of them showed at least some slight sign of impatience when Arien monopolized the conversation, but none of them admitted to it, and few even tried to change the topic. No others were as rude as Carinna. No others admitted to detecting the peas, either. Leyta was on the verge of contacting the merchant to make an offer for his daughter to wed Arien. And then Princess Inaya arrived.

Princess Inaya was from further north than the second princess had been, her skin darker and her hair in braids that lay directly against her head, with ribbons and beads woven into them at the bottom. She didn’t look Leyta in the eye – or anyone else, really, keeping her head bowed demurely. She picked at her food, more or less eating only the potatoes, and she barely spoke… until she met with Arien.

He offered, diffidently, to show her the garden, and she accepted. He started to point out interesting bugs that he saw in the garden… and she began to point out interesting rocks. They soon began an animated conversation that sounded to Leyta more like two separate threads, where Arien would say a sentence or two about insects, then yield to Inaya, who would say a sentence or two about rocks. Sometimes they had a genuine back-and-forth when they talked about the habitats of pillbugs, who lived under rocks, or other areas where rocks and insects somehow intersected. Arien showed Inaya the notebook where he drew bugs and made his observations, and Inaya seemed to be thrilled with his artistic skill. She showed him her own notebook, with no art at all, where she wrote down the properties of rocks she had discovered and outlined the tests she did on stones to see what they were made of. Arien was fascinated with the efforts she’d gone to and how thoroughly she’d documented her findings; he’d never thought of doing anything to research the insects aside from looking them up in his tutor’s books.

At no point did she ever look Arien in the eye. At no point did he seem to care. He relaxed enough with Inaya to flap his hands when he grew excited; Inaya had a chain of polished stones that, instead of wearing around her neck, she tossed in the air as she paced.

In the morning, when Leyta asked Inaya how she slept, she squirmed.

“I, um. The bed was mostly very nice. Very good linens, nice soft down. But, uh. It felt like maybe there were… tiny pebbles in there somewhere? I’m not sure, I didn’t want to be rude and strip down the bed to look, but, uh. It was kind of uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Leyta said.

She made arrangements to ask Arien his opinion before Inaya’s entourage left, this time. He spoke very simply. “I love her. Pick her, she’s the one.”

“I thought you would say that,” Leyta said, and she finished drafting the offer to Inaya’s parents, and signed it. “Take this to her lady-in-waiting before they leave, to give to Inaya’s parents.”

“I can’t!” Arien said, looking all around. “I can’t be the one to do it because I have to give her a parting gift if I see her and I don’t have any nice rocks!”

So Leyta gave him a bracelet with a large inset opal, and smaller jades all around it. “Take this to her and tell her which kinds of stones are in it, and tell her she can wear it as a bracelet if she wants, or take it apart for the stones, whichever she prefers.”

Later she heard that Inaya collapsed on the ground crying when he made the offer, but that her lady-in-waiting reassured Arien that this wasn’t abnormal – that she did this whenever her emotions were too strong to control, even if they were happy emotions. Inaya confirmed that she was crying from relief and joy, because she had always thought that no man would ever want to marry her and if one did, he would hate her rocks and want her to do normal womanly things like embroidery or something, which she wasn’t good at in the slightest because her coordination was bad and she was always poking the needle into the wrong place, and she had never imagined that she would ever find a man who understood her and didn’t demand that she look in his eyes and liked to listen to her talk about what she loved. Then Arien asked her very gravely if she liked hugs, because most of the time he didn’t like hugs, especially when they were a surprise, but if she would like a hug he really wanted to give her one. They hugged, and declared mutual love (“as far as I can define the feeling of love, anyway,” Inaya said, “because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, so how can I know for sure that that’s what this is?” Arien had agreed with her, but said “I think that even if what we’re feeling isn’t the same kind of thing as other people feel when they’re in love, it’s close enough that we can use the same word, because who wants to have to make up a new word?” And then they spent several minutes amusing each other to the point of hysterical laughter in making up new words that sounded ridiculous, sometimes repeating them to each other ten or a dozen times.) When Inaya finally had to leave, Arien cried.

Leyta wasn’t there for any of that, but her spies were everywhere in the castle.

***

When the Dowager demanded that she explain her test, Leyta summoned Arien, who had washed his face so it looked more as if he had had a terrible runny nose and sneezes than that he’d been crying.

“You asked me about what it would prove, to put peas in the bed,” Leyta said, “and I was looking for two things, but one was more important than the other.”

“What were you looking for?” Arien asked.

“Arien… you know that you’re a special young man, and different in some ways than other people your age. I’ve consulted with many scholars. Children like you are often strangely sensitive to things that other people don’t notice… often to the point where it’s unpleasant. Such as your feelings about onions.”

He shuddered. “Please do not remind me of the existence of those devil vegetables.”

Leyta laughed. The Dowager scowled. Leyta knew she preferred that a king, or a crown prince who’d just been betrothed, have a serious demeanor. She also knew that Arien would be who he was, no matter what anyone asked him to be.

“So I thought, the peas might be noticeable to some of the girls, but they would be especially notable to a girl who was like Arien. More importantly, if a girl noticed it but claimed she didn’t… Arien, I know you are often taken off guard by lies, and you’re a very honest man yourself. I know you would prefer a wife who will tell you when something makes her unhappy, rather than her trying to guess how you feel about it and then telling you what she thinks you want to hear.”

Arien nodded. “Nobody can see inside someone else’s mind, so why would anyone even do that?”

“I wanted a girl who would be honest about something she found unpleasant, even if she had to offend her host to admit it. But, obviously, kindness and compassion and a lack of malice about it were necessary as well… we don’t want a Carinna anywhere near the rulership of the kingdom.”

“You can say that again,” Arien said. Leyta suspected he was setting her up so she could tell a joke.

“But I won’t, because I know you heard it the first time,” she said, smiling.

The Dowager frowned. “So you picked a girl who has the same kinds of problems as Arien? Was that wise? The kingdom may need rulers who understand the idea of telling lies when they must, who can be charming and adept with politics. I thought you’d pick a girl who would cover Arien’s weaknesses, not one with the same issues.”

“Your son understood me,” Leyta said simply. “It was an arranged marriage, but we quickly grew to love each other, because we respected and we understood each other. I don’t want the kingdom to have a queen who resents her husband because she thinks he’s strange… who may play politics behind the scenes to have him killed so she can take power. Or who takes lovers, so we don’t know if the royal blood is even in the heirs. It’s more important to me that Arien’s wife respects him and understands him, and that he understands and respects her, than to have rulers who can detect all the subterranean undercurrents of a conversation. That’s what spymasters are for… and Dowager mothers and grandmothers, and perhaps even younger sisters.”

“Mother,” Arien said, “thank you. I know the people think I’m strange, and maybe I am, but you’ve always watched out for me. I didn’t even know I needed to find a wife who wouldn’t lie to protect my feelings until you pointed it out, and now it’s obvious.” He looked at the Dowager. “And Grandmother, Inaya does complement me. I understand mathematics, and finance, and things like that. She was trained by her parents to understand logistics, so she could run the castle, but she went deeper with it; she understands things about what kind of weather will do things to the crops and what will happen to the farmers when that occurs, things I never even thought about asking. Together I think she and I can make our country one of the most prosperous and happy nations in the world.”

***

And so it came to be. Prince Arien and Princess Inaya were wed in a lovely ceremony that they immediately fled to go on their honeymoon as soon as the marriage vows were taken. They understood the economics of the nation, and other nations, as few kings and queens ever did, and when they needed someone to tell them that someone else was lying, they had the Dowager Leyta and Princess Celia. The country prospered as it never had before, with no beggars on the streets of the cities, because the King and Queen gave homes to those who had none, and living expenses to those too sick or weak or lacking in some ability so that they couldn’t work.

It would be a lie to say they lived happily ever after, because no human can be happy all the time, and they had arguments and problems in their relationship from time to time. But even Arien the Honest and his Queen would agree that we can say they lived mostly happily for the rest of their lives.

#52 project #i'm late! i'm late! #fairy tales #autism #altered tales #the writer is autistic

[kinnoth]

What's your take on Thor Ragnarok? What's your take on Thor's development within the MCU so far?I'm a fan of your posts and tags!

GREAT QUESTIONS THANK YOU FOR ASKING, THANKS FOR BEING A FAN

tldr I """"like"""" Thor's canon development now bc I've done some fucking Olympic grade backfilling and contortion to recontextualize the canon to make it meaningful, but this results in me living in my own pocket universe of an interpretation where I can't really interact with other people bc they don't subscribe to my exact reading of canon

But bro I LOVE Ragnarok. I know that can be a controversial take (I've read the meta of people who think it "slaughtered" Thor and Loki's characterisations), but I just thought it was so much fun! Like on a movie watching experience level and on a lore/meta level, it's FUN. That's not something I can say for 95% of marvel movies, which are nigh universally too dimly lit and too reliant on hateful sarcasm between characters as a substitute for a relationship.

On a meta level, I 1000% subscribe to the idea that the entire movie is a retelling that Thor is preforming for his refugees, so it's a heavily edited, exaggerated, and sillier version of events meant to keep everyone's spirits up. On the point of lore continuity, I really appreciate that thor3 makes CANON and EXPLICIT Odin's campaign of imperialist violence behind his "peaceful" reign over the nine realms, I FUCKIN LOVE IT. I LOVE the context Hela gives to their family, because she makes canon and explicit Odin's disappointments in Thor. I LOVE that Mjolnir was Hela's weapon before it was Thor's because Mjolnir was never meant to be a metric for moral goodness or readiness for rule, but a metric for a colonialist's commitment to imperialist violence on behalf of an empire WHICH IS WHY IT FINDS CAPTAIN AMERICA WORTHY BUT NOT LOKI

(btw if anyone else can draw a line between Hela and Steve Rogers that is a. representative of Odin's priorities and b. includes Thor but excludes Loki, hmu, bc this is the best I got.)

(Mjolnir rejects Thor in thor1 bc Thor was trying to conquer Jotunheim for personal glory and doesn't accept him again until he starts thinking about the good of the empire again by protecting Midgard, an imperial asset. Mjolnir rejects Loki bc Loki is a not an imperialist in service of an empire)

Off topic but I know a lot of people get hung up on Thor leaving Loki paralyzed in the parking garage, potentially to be found by the grandmasters dudes? Like people say that was unaccountably cruel and ooc for Thor. But like, ok, they killed everyone on the way up, and Thor knows his armed gladiator rebellion is on his heels also headed for the parking garage, so I dunno, I never read it as Loki was in any particular danger? But I'm a notorious Thor apologist as well as a Loki apologist so 🤷‍♂️

Things I also love: loki defunding the military to spend that money on art and infrastructure, Loki's live action thorki fanfic that Asgard unaccountably loved, Loki stonewalling Odin's attempt to reconcile bc fuck Odin, Thor's lightning powers, Bruce banner is now a Jewish grandma, Hela have I mentioned Hela love that girlboss, Jeff goldblum love that wiggly man, the Valkyrie love that angry girl, "piss off ghost", inglorious deaths for all the warriors 3, "I'm here" (screaming, crying, shaking), the story about how Loki bit Thor as a snake as well as the confirmation that they are in fact the same age

I have complicated feelings about Thor's canon development tbh. On a very ground floor sort of reaction, I despise what they did to My Boy in infinity war and endgame. I think it's a disgusting character assassination and I don't think the russos understand humour and specifically how to use humour to expand on tragedy like what thor3 did.

On the other hand, if you've read my fic and meta, you'll know that I've accepted the canon development, bc at this point, I've done a LOT of very deliberate and concerted labour to MAKE the canon development we see between thor1 and endgame WORK. But, like, there was a LOT of labour that I, specifically, put into it. It fully relies on me specifically doing a lot of digging and reaching and mining these movies for every possible frame of content to the point where I am pretty sure I've put more effort into making all the development make continuous sense than any of the screenwriters put into the actual development.

And I think I've probably just drank too much of my own Kool aid but like, I am in a position now where I do think my interpretation of Thor's character development is THE most complete and accurate reading of his character development. Key to these points are: a) I think he is an ex-imperialist who is currently and actively trying to deprogram himself from the colonialists' mindset that Odin instilled within him b) he is trying to deprogram himself from Asgard's culture of extreme toxic masculinity wherein he was not taught to have any sort of emotional processing that did not involve physical violence c) Loki is/was/always will be the person he loves best

So like, as I try to show in my thorki canonverse fics (shameless plug for myself), I can make most of the bad decisions made about Thor's character in infinity war and endgame work if I recontextualize all of his canon actions with my own (well supported, well documented) headcanon'd baggage. Of course he goes on a death wish mission to get revenge on Thanos -- he has a literal deathwish bc he was already supposed to die with Loki. Of course he sinks into an unshakeable depression afterwards -- he has no identity now that he has no family bc he was never taught to live by himself or for himself. Of course he leaves new Asgard and abdicates his rule -- he hasn't wanted a hand in the dirty business of Empire ever since Odin's ambition got his mom and brother killed in thor2, and that hasn't changed. I try to make him go through all the canon-implied feelings and anxieties and doubts in front of the reader. My entire goal of this is that people read my shit, then look at canon and think "oohh that context DOES make it better!" I will be gratified if that is the case.

(The only thing I cannot fix is the bit in endgame where Thor walks past Loki's Tupperware cell and the narrative doesn't come to a screeching fucking halt as Thor has so many feelings that he has some sort of paralytic breakdown where he simultaneously wants to commit Time Crime (tm) so he can just stay here forever and also wishes he could just die here, next to loki, like he was always supposed to. Like, that needed to happen to really lynchpin all of my work together into one smooth, problem free reading, but I'm not allowed to have nice things so)

(oh also I didn't like Thor calling frigga "mom". Shouldn't it at least be "mum"? I think "mother" is best tbh, bc I don't really read them as having that sort of relationship, see "toxic masculinity", see also "homosocial socialisation")

(and ok I get that it was a nice moment for Thor to call the hammer back to his hand, and I get that it even still works with my headcanon that mjolnir finds Thor worthy still bc Thor is defending the imperial asset that is Midgard, but like God damnit. The uncritical and unquestioning use of that word "worthy" when he catches the hammer again. Like worthy of what you guys? Do you ever ask yourself that question bc I very much do. I kinda wish they didnt bring it up at all, or if they did, it didn't come back to Thor's hand and he is just like, wistfully, "that's all right, I suspected as much. I'm such a different man now, mjolnir doesn't recognize me. I don't think I'd be alive right now if I had been the same man I was")

Wow that got long, anyway, thanks for chatting with me! Again, always a pleasure to field asks!

#internal thor tag

[self-loving-vampire]

I finished A Realm Reborn last night and am finally advancing into Heavensward soon, but first I will write a brief review of some story points (especially latter ones). Spoilers for the vanilla game below.

I heard that A Realm Reborn is basically average and the story only really “gets good” from Heavensward on, and especially in Shadowbringers and Endwalker. It is too early for me to judge these other expansions, but the assessment of ARR sounds accurate to me.

It was not a bad story, and it included some things that were interesting at least from a worldbuilding perspective (such as the primal summonings and the concept of tempering). As an introduction to the game’s world it works fine.

However, as a story it feels very much like it’s just serving the standard JRPG fare. 

The primary antagonists are an evil Roman-ish empire and a sect of evil hooded wizards. This is serviceable but nothing special, and considering the powers available to said wizards I definitely got the feeling that they could be doing significantly more to hinder me than they actually did, which felt off.

After all, these characters are able to teleport and also functionally immortal until near the end of the story. Even if they can’t attack me or my base directly they have many options that they just don’t seem to take advantage of.

My main frustration, however, comes from instances of cutscene incompetence (one of my least favorite tropes) across a few questlines.

One egregious example was during the thaumaturge questline, where a character gets corrupted by a demon in a jar right in front of me. My character just stands there and watches as the character slowly makes his way to the whispering jar I was meant to destroy and opens it.

However, there was an even worse example of this near the end of the main quest, where several cutscenes play out in sequence.

I am talking about the event where you are framed for the poisoning of a city-state’s ruler while she was meeting with you in private to discuss her coming abdication. All so that the oligarchs (who have bought up all the guards) can take over. Once the deed is done, one of them arrives with the guard and accuses me. There are many things wrong with this setup.

First, I was the ruler’s guest at her own palace so obviously it is not my role to bring or serve the drinks around here. Servants are the obvious suspects in these situations for a reason.

During the meeting that is going on nearby at the same time, the evidence they present is a mostly empty poison vial the quest has you pick up before this event, but this is not very credible evidence considering they could have just as easily planted it on me after the fact and have much more of a motive to want her dead than I would.

To the game’s credit, not a single person in the entire world seems to actually believe this accusation, and they really should not considering how dumb it is. However, this whole thing is kind of frustrating for a few reasons such as:

1- The protagonist is idle the whole time.

This is one of the most significant events that has happened in the game so far and your character mostly just stands there for the bulk of it. You not only let the oligarch and his half dozen regular dudes capture you, but when you are brought to the gathering to have your “crime” exposed you don’t have any option to defend yourself or point out any of the issues with the accusation even though all sorts of established allies who could help with your defense are right there.

Immediately after this, a major character goes apeshit and starts attacking the schemers. However, even after being unbound your character does nothing to contribute to the battle, and neither do any of your other allies. You are just told to escape and clear your name.

The person behind this whole plot is right there. My character does not even need a weapon to squish him, and given that his whole army is motivated only by his money and knows that my character is at this point a god-killing war hero who defeated an ancient superweapon that was basically a walking nuke they probably would not realistically fight to the death for him like they seem to do (even after one of the people who was bribing them is cut down in front of everyone).

The protagonist of a story simply should not just remain as passive as a background character during events like this.

2- The party splits up for no good reason.

During the escape from the city, your allies gradually split away to presumably slow down your pursuers.

This did not strike me as the best of ideas. You don’t even need to consider the concept of defeat in detail to figure out that staying together for a combined effort might be a safer idea. Better yet, why are we not just teleporting out? That is also something we can do.

This makes the “sacrifices” (I don’t believe for a second that they actually died) to buy me time feel overly engineered, especially considering that the protagonist is still not really doing anything but running.

I have 55 Monk levels. Even if my weapon was taken away when the cutscene forced me to surrender I am easily at the point where I should be able to fight off an arbitrary number of mooks with just punches and kicks, especially with support from a full party of experienced badasses.

3- Am I an outlaw or am I not?

As mentioned previously, no one in the entire game seems to actually believe that I did a little regicide and I can still walk around the city as if nothing happened. Gameplay-wise this is a good thing because being cut off from one of the major settlements in the game for an extended period of time would be extremely inconvenient, but it still kind of undercuts not only the cutscene sequences where I was told to “escape and clear my name” but also the whole plot to frame me in the first place.

It feels off that the main quest treats me like I should be escaping to Ishgard and following the main quest there to bring the true assassins to justice but considering that I don’t seem to actually be wanted by the law anywhere I just end up feeling like I could probably just attack them directly or rally the population against them or something. 

This whole escape feels unnecessary considering how useless the propaganda was and how many options I still feel I have to turn it all around, especially considering I’m friends with all the powerful people in the other city states.

Overall, playing through this sequence just makes me think about how these events might have played out in the less railroady single-player RPGs I am more used to.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (9)

I’m back with anotha one! Sorry it’s taken so ridiculously long! I’ve been soooo busy that sitting down and writing or even formatting has been such a challenge. Please enjoy this chapter!

*also i watched Cherry and Tom was so good in it I’m- that film messed me up a lil bit but like it was so good. Also I’ve loved Ciara since btr and now I’m just insanely jealous and love her even more ugh 

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2333

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

Friday evening, the volleyball team arrived at the town regionals were being held at, about an hour away. You were staying in a hotel again, and as before, Julia was your buddy.

After having spent the evening laughing and having fun, your whole hotel room group was about to head up the stairs.

“Hey, y/n. Do you mind staying back for a minute?” Julia asked.

“Oh, sure. We’ll meet you guys upstairs,” you called to the other two, who waved back nonchalantly and continued walking. Julia and you went back to some empty seats near the lobby.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling.

“Well… Sam told me he caught you and Tom yesterday and I just wanted to ask you about it…”

Your smile faltered.

“What’s there to talk about? I told him that Tom sprayed me with water so I got back at him by soaking the back of his shirt. There’s nothing more to say.”

“Well, yeah, he told me that but he also mentioned that you stayed for dinner? And met Nikki’s parents last weekend? Not trying to imply anything, but I didn’t meet their grandparents until Sam and I had been dating for like 6 months.”

You were getting annoyed, considering this was the second person in two days to ask you about Tom.

“I didn’t just meet them over nothing! Nikki took my senior pictures at the same time as Tom’s and wanted to do them there. I was just tagging along for the ride.”

“You know he’s also coming to state next weekend, right? If we pass through tomorrow?”

He is?

“Uh, no I didn’t. Doesn’t he have football stuff to worry about? It’s also Halloween next weekend, like he’d miss out on the big party.”

“They have a bye next week. Sam is going to come and I guess Tom is taking him, but Nikki might come too? I’m not sure. I guess you’d better ask him. Anyways, I just wanted to clear things up since there were all those rumors today,” she said, starting to get up.

“Wait, wai- Rumors? I never heard anything. Like about me?”

“You haven’t heard? I guess one of the freshman girls who has a massive crush on Tom was stalking Nikki’s website last night and saw some pictures of the two of you. A bunch of people think you’re dating now.”

You felt yourself pale.

“Oh no, and she changed one picture after Tom asked her to. Do you know what the picture was?”

“Something about him carrying you..? I never saw it, why?”

“Great. Now everyone is going to think she changed it because a secret got out or something. Ughhhh I just wish this stupid marriage project had never happened and I would never be in this mess.”

Julia looked at you contemplatively for a moment.

“Think of it this way, you and Tom are friends now, right?” you apprehensively nodded. “If it weren’t for that project, you two would still be fighting all the time and you wouldn’t have had the incredible Nikki Holland taking your pictures. Everyone can just get over themselves, you know?”

You snorted, then grinned.

“Yeah I guess so. You know, you’re annoyingly wise beyond your years,” you stated. “Now let’s get back upstairs. We have a long day ahead of us.”

%

Placing first at regionals meant two things: you were going to state, and everyone was congratulating you again when Monday came.

They also kinda looked at you funny when Tom high fived you in the hallway as he passed by, but you had decided to follow Julia’s advice and stop caring about the rumors people were spreading. 

Once the morning announcements ended, your calculus teacher stood up, a small paper stack in hand.

“Okay, everyone, since I’m your first period teacher and homecoming is next week, today you get to cast your nomination votes. Y’all know the drill: three guys, three girls for king and queen. Try to make it fast, we have a lot to do today.”

She walked around handing out half-sheets of paper with six lines on them. You and Tom immediately looked at each other.

“We nominating each other?” Tom asked before you could.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you joked, filling out the sheet with both of your names and four others.

In home ec, you sat next to Tom cutting fabric for yet another project you had to do together, thinking about something Julia had mentioned.

“Hey, I gotta ask you something. Is it true you’re going to the capital this weekend for our state tournament?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. This is our bye week and I promised Sam I’d go with him and mom. Plus, we can work on the project when you’re free.”

“You do realize that’s like a four hour drive, right? I mean it’s Halloween this weekend. Wouldn’t you rather make an appearance at Johnny’s big blowout?”

“Eh, it won’t be that great. I mean his place isn’t even that big and it’s in town. There’s literally no way it won’t get busted within the first half hour. The homecoming party at Tyler’s however… that’s gonna be insane.”

“Okay Johnny’s trash party aside, you really would rather spend your one free weekend of the season four hours away watching girls play volleyball then at home doing… whatever it is you do. And please don’t tell me you watch the ‘hub in your spare time.”

“Come on, y/n I’m not an animal. Even without the tight uniforms volleyball is really cool.” 

You backhanded his arm at the comment.

“Plus, I don’t need any videos to get myself off,” he added, smirking.

“You disgust me.”

“You know you love me.”

“Hmm. Debatable,” you shot back dryly, earning a chuckle and shoulder bump from him as you finally cracked.

%

At lunch, your friends were discussing the Halloween party when you sat down.

“Okay we really need to figure out what to wear this weekend, and we’re not going as playboy bunnies like Daisy and all her group,” said one girl.

“Well I say we dress as frat boys. It’s funny, not super sexual, and we all know half the guys are going to rush next year,” suggested Caroline.

“I like it, but what if we went a step further and dressed as dads. You know, hawaiian shirts, khaki shorts, socks and sandals. That would be hilarious. What do you think, y/n?” said Alexis.

“Sorry ladies, I won’t be there. We have state this weekend at the capital so as always, we’re driving down Friday after school. I will be at Tyler’s homecoming thing next weekend. Also, I do really like the dad thing, but I vote y’all do Guy Fieri.”

“Wait why is that literally genius,” Alexis said as the others agreed. “Of course it would suck to take your idea without you even getting to do it.”

“You guys really think I care? Just credit me in your insta captions. I’ll make the team put ribbons with flames on them in their ponytails Saturday.”

“Okay now we have to do it,” a different friend said.

“Hey, at least you won’t have to worry about Tom. I’m sure he’ll be at the party,” Caroline said. You wrinkled your nose.

“Yeah about that… His brother’s girlfriend is on the team so he’s going, too. I’m the one that’ll be seeing him instead of you guys but whatever. We’ll need to work on our project anyways.”

“Don’t you think that’ll fuel the fires people are already spreading about you? A good portion of the school thinks you’re secretly together now,” added the first friend from before. 

“People are going to believe whatever the hell they want. I honestly don’t care anymore. Oh! By the way, did I tell you guys that some freshman was the one spreading shit about me Friday? The nerve those kids have,” you said.

“Wait, what? It was a freshman that was trying to tell everyone y’all are together? Ugh why would anyone believe them?” Alexis asked, incredulous.

“I know, right? Apparently she’s like obsessed with Tom or something. She must have a backwards way of thinking if she believes spreading fake rumors will make him want her. Jokes on her when she has to see us together on homecoming court. He’s just as likely to be voted as I am, maybe even more.”

The group all laughed and continued talking about random things, and you mentally wiped the sweat from your brow now that the conversation was shifted from you and Tom.

%

You were nervously bouncing your leg before calculus Friday morning. You’d gotten to school early to make certain you would be there for the announcements, which is when they would be releasing the list of nominees.

Tom came in a couple minutes before the bell, hair still wet from his post workout shower. Usually he blow dried it, and he obviously noticed you looking at his curls, your knee bouncing anxiously.

“Got out of the weight room late so I rushed over here. What are you wired up about, princess?”

“Do I really have to tell you? Homecoming noms.”

“You’re actually nervous about that? Everyone knows you’re already at the top of the list.”

“Uh, no, that’s you. After everything that’s happened the past few weeks, there’s no telling how people feel about me.”

“Oh you’ll be fine. I know it,” Tom finished. You wanted to disagree with him further, but then the bell rang and announcements began. After the general daily stuff, they got to the part everyone was waiting for. 

You were on the edge of your seat. The disembodied voice began with the underclassmen’s court nominations, eventually working up to the senior king contestants.

“Alright, first up in the running for kings we have… Tuwaine Barrett!”

Tuwaine was a cool dude. He played basketball and was in theatre. You were happy to see him nominated.

“Next up we’ve got Harrison Osterfield!”

Ugh. I’d rather abdicate the throne than end up against him.

“And finally for the boys, Tom Holland!”

A small cheer went up in your classroom as people congratulated Tom and patted him on the back. You gave him a high five.

“And now for the ladies. First on the list is Zendaya Coleman!”

Ah Zendaya. You were never that close, but she was always nice when you’d had classes with her. She was way taller than you, a star player on the basketball and softball teams. Not to mention she was insanely gorgeous. This was already some stiff competition.

“Second, we have Daisy Ridley!”

And of course another likely contender. Daisy, who was planning on going to that evening’s Halloween party as a playboy bunny, was a cheerleader. She didn’t fit every aspect of the cheer stereotype, like the fact that she was actually really smart, but she definitely wasn’t the nicest person either.

“And finally, your last nominee for homecoming queen is… y/n y/l/n!”

It took a second to fully process that it was you they were talking about until there were people cheering you on like they’d done for Tom. He reciprocated the high five.

“What’d I tell you princess? Or shall I say queen.”

%

Tom was leaving football practice after the bell when a few of his buddies appeared next to him to walk across the parking lot.

They were talking when Tom saw you all loading the bus, and you sent each other a wave.

“Damn, y/n’s not gonna be at the party tonight? That’s rough, she always has the dopest costumes. ‘Least you will. What are you going as?” one guy, Jake, said.

“Did I not tell you? I’m going out of town. Won’t be there. I totally would’ve been Spider-Man though,” Tom explained.

“Wait you won’t be there tonight either?” another, Chris, asked. “You’re gonna miss out on some major exposure for homecoming votes.”

“Oh yeah, right. I’m pretty sure things are in the bag for me. I’ll just be gone tonight and tomorrow. Promised Sam I’d go to the volleyball thing with him.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You. Are going to the capital. Which is four hours away. At the same time as y/n. Am I hearing this right?” Jake asked as they finally reached their cars.

“Oh shut up, man. It’s not like that. Yeah we’ll be at the same place this weekend but whatever. We’re cool with each other now.”

“Cool? Is that code for ‘I want to make out every time I look at her?’” interjected Chris. He and Jake gave each other a look and laughed.

“Ugh, no. I’d kiss a salmon before I kissed y/n. I just meant we’ve come to an understanding and are somewhat friends now.”

They both looked at him funny.

“So you mean to tell me that there’s nothing going on between you two? Yeah right. We’ve all seen the way you look at her at games,” Jake said suggestively.

“What is up with you and everyone else at this school thinking there’s more to the story?! We are fake married for a school project and are nothing more than friends. You’re crazy to think otherwise.”

“Who are you planning on asking to the dance?” Chris asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What? What do you mean? I haven’t even thought about it.”

“I’m asking who you’ll take to homecoming. It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

“No. No, it’s not, because I haven’t asked anyone.”

“Would you go with her?” Chris continued, pressing in.

“I mean I guess so. If we’re voted king and queen then it’ll basically be an obligation.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Dude why are you asking all these questions! If she isn’t queen then I’ll go with whoever is. If I’m not king, I’ll just go solo and see what happens. Whatever, though, I need to get home. I’ll see you guys Monday,” Tom finished.

He walked off to his car, where his brothers were impatiently waiting.

%

A/N: Thanks for reading! Again, sorry for my inactivity but I’m hoping that writing will be a little easier as one of my classes was a half semester and I’ll now have a little more buffer room to write!

My asks and messages are always open!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #sam holland

[dragon-ball-meta]

Yes, a Reddit post. I’m sure so many of you are shocked that our colossally bad take came from there, (and probably from Toyotaro’s burner account lol), but nevertheless, here it is. How to even begin to unpack this... Okay, here we go: 1. Goku’s was hardly the only one who didn’t want to stop Gero. Vegeta literally threatened to KILL anyone who DID try to stop them. Tien wanted to fight them to test his limits. Goku’s desire was to fight them, yes, hello, this is Goku, But he also refused to just find and straight-up kill Gero when he TECHNICALLY hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. And, as we actually came to see, that’s not an entirely unwarranted stance; things changed between these two timelines even without direct intervention. Unlikely as it was, it was possible that Gero may not have gone through with it. There have been entire books and films on this topic.. 2. This stupid claim just refuses to die. At what point in any part of the fight with Goku and Cell was it even IMPLIED that Goku could have won? Goku stated he’d been going all-out in his fight with Cell, when the Cell Jrs arrived and started attacking, Goku was getting bodied even though they were only about as strong as Vegeta or Trunks, who were both far below him when at full power. Goku could not have beaten Cell. ONLY Gohan could. The boy even said that he’d thought Goku and Cell were both not fighting seriously because they looked to be moving slowly to him. Gohan was already stronger than Goku, before he ever turned SSJ2. Period. And for the love of GOD, STOP with this “severe emotional trauma” nonsense! Gohan had been watching people die, his friends no less, since he was FIVE. In fact, seeing that at FIVE is FAR more likely to have given him any severe and lasting emotional trauma. PICCOLO is more likely to have caused this than Goku. Yes, the Piccolo the OP even then tries to claim is the paragon of fatherhood. Gohan was already afraid of his own anger, he always had a dislike of fighting and hurting people. The thing that shook the boy the most was watching his dad die and knowing it was partly his fault. Even then, he grew up into a healthy, well-adjusted man with his dream job and a family. Just STOP pushing your headcanons onto him for two seconds! 3. THINKS he could have killed Buu. Opted to try to teach those still alive a technique that would enable THEM to kill Buu and keep protecting the Earth even after he was gone. Could have killed Vegeta, yes, and sent him to hell and left Bulma and Trunks broken-hearted. Instead opted to try to reason with him first and allow him to think he’d finally caught up to him so he’d stop obsessing over their power gap to the point of SELLING HIS SOUL TO AN EVIL WIZARD TO GET THE EDGE.. And now, for the completely asinine reasons Goku is eeeeevil: 1. You’re acting as if this isn’t just Goku. That is LITERALLY Goku. Always HAS been Goku. He treats EVERYNE as a peer and potential friend and ADORES the idea of trying to fight strong people. Note that he also ASKED for a spar, didn’t just “attack” or something. This also has nothing to do with a thirst for “power”, it has to do with Goku trying to test himself and push himself to be the greatest warrior it’s possible for him to be. This is the same mentality that had Goku excited for the Tenkaichi Budokai, that had him excited to face Vegeta, that had him spare Piccolo and Vegeta for the sake of  rematch against such a great opponent someday. This is not some sort of development that happened post-Namek, and it’s by no means Evil. Also, how tf did VEGETA supposedly warn him when Vegeta was back on Earth and nowhere to be found?  2. Again... this is just Goku. This is how he is. That doesn’t mean he didn’t care about the plight of others though; Goku doesn’t just sit back and ignore suffering he’s been made aware of, and he helps his friends. But yes, the idea of facing HIMSELF was exciting to him; possibly his ONLY chance to compare his progress to another “version” of himself.  And... I’m sorry, but Goku erupting into a fit of rage over his family’s murder is invalidated because he was mad it used HIS body? Really? NO KIDDING I’d be extra pissed if some psychopath took over my body and murdered my wife and little boy! Who WOULDN’T be pissed about that? The last thing his wife saw was her husband’s face grinning as he cut through her and their son. The last thing Goten saw was his daddy GLEEFULLY murdering him. The fact that he flew into the biggest rage he’d ever had since he first fought FREEZA over this shows how much that hurt him. The fact that you think it was entirely about the use of his body and not their deaths shows a piss-poor ability to analyze what you see on screen, ESPECIALLY as he was upset but mostly indifferent hearing how Zamasu stole his body UNTIL he told Goku he murdered his family too. THEN he flew into a rage. This is also going to invalidate an upcoming point, so pin this.

3. Aaaand... we’re right back to the Tournament of Power itself. The Tournament that literally no one foresaw as having those results. The one that as stated to actually buy one universe that was gonna be wiped anyways a fighting chance to survive, and later turned out to be a massive morality test to allow ALL of said universes to survive. Nevermind that though, this OP here asserts that Goku KNEW it would result in that, was TOLD it would even (he literally was not I am so sick of that claim), and didn’t even KNOW they COULD undo it and STILL wanted it! This is easily the most hardcore anti-Goku stance I have ever seen on this topic This isn’t just chiding him for being ignorant or not listening to warnings (again, not applicable), it’s accusing him of KNOWING Genocide would happen and actually WATING that in the name of a few fights.  This being his stance is further illustrated by his assertion that Goku is indisputably a sociopath. Let’s look at the definition of a sociopath, shall we? “A person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.” This is not Goku. OBJECTIVELY not Goku. Goku is far from anti-social, and very much has a strong sense of right and wrong, hence his desire to intervene when he comes across people suffering. Hence why he sought justice for the murder of Upa’s father. Hence why he felt IMMEDIATE REGRET after hearing what the consequences would be for the losers of the ToP, and WHY HE FLEW INTO A RAGE OVER THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND SON. Goku is capable of sympathy, empathy, and grasps the concepts of right and wrong. A sociopath he is not. And, of course, the stupid assertion that Goku is a bad father and Piccolo and Vegeta are the REAL examples of fatherhood... which is also erasure of Gohan and Krillin, neither of whom assaulted their daughters, tossed them into the wilderness to fend for themselves, forced them to be fighters and face homicidal aliens at age 5,or nearly let them and their mothers fall to their deaths because they were too absorbed with finding and killing an enemy to prove their superiority. To cap it off, Vegeta and Piccolo have somehow inexplicably become the “symbols of hope” in the series, trying to stop an evil, unhinged Goku from annihilating them all, and he asserts that Vegeta became the REAL hero during... the Cell Saga? The arc where Vegeta literally helped Cell become perfect? And was the hero in the arc where he sold his soul to Babidi, helped resurrect Buu, AND murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people JUST to make Goku mad enough to fight him because he refused to? You know, the thing you actually used as a point of criticism for... GOKU, and are clearly abdicating Vegeta of any and all responsibility for?  Folks, I’ve seen some bad takes in my day, but it’s very, VERY rare to find one this unhinged and frankly inept in one place. This is nuclear levels of Bad Takes here. Just... wow. 

#Goku #Son Goku #Fandom #Fandumb #dbz reddit #why #Vegeta worship #Goku hate #Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #Dragon Ball Super #DB #DBZ #DBS #Dragonball #Dragonball Z

[lilyharvord]

marecal fic plz?🥺 it can be a one shot or anything at all I just need smth lol

Got What I Got

           Jason Aldean probably didn’t write Got What I Got for Tibarias “Cal” Calore VII but he did, so there’s that. No, I am not accepting different opinions on this fact. Also, this isn’t exactly Mare and Cal exclusively. I threw a little Iris in there because I love her and miss her. 

           I watch Mare’s eyes flint over my shoulder to the dais behind me for the tenth time since we started dancing. Normally, I wouldn’t be bothered by her paranoia. But given the fact that her hand is gripping my shoulder so tightly I’m surprised she doesn’t squeeze it out of the socket I do feel like something has to be done.

           When my arm is starting to get sore from her constant squeezing, I drop my chin to press a kiss to her temple and whisper in her ear, “don’t worry, the deepest pool of water Iris could throw me in is still shallow enough that I can sit in it and keep my head above water.”

           I pull away to with a cheeky grin, expecting her to at least try to hide a smile. When her eyes return to mine though, but there is no amusement in her glare.

           “That’s not funny Cal.” She hiss whispers before throwing her gaze back over my shoulder.

           Rolling my eyes, I glance over her head at the beautiful fountain I had been referring to. It spills water from multiple pools starting from the ceiling and trickling all the way down the floor. It’s actually quite beautiful, and perfectly befitting of a Nymph palace. “I thought it was pretty clever.” I admit before sliding my hand from her waist to her lower back to bring her closer to me. She continues to glower around me like she could strike Iris through the chest with her lightning without anyone noticing.

           “Don’t ruin this night for Evangeline, she worked hard to get us here.” I warn her as I smile at the Magnetron across the room. She sits at a decadent table nursing a glass of something golden and bubbly. Next to her, Elane chats sweetly with a Lakelander noble, who may or may not notice some papers missing in his office when Elane’s spies finish sweeping it. Not that it’s likely. Elane had hand-picked every operative for that part of her mission. On top of that, the man’s face was flushed silver from the wine. I doubt he was even going to remember Elane’s face in the morning, let alone a set of papers he had been given at lunch.

           “I told her I didn’t want us to go.” Mare growls when she turns her head to glare at Evangeline instead of me this time.

           Evangeline’s iron irises shine like her pewter dress as she raises her glass to us. Throwing her arm over the back of the chair and delicately splitting the metal of her skirt so that her leg flashes into existence while she crosses it, she looks remarkably like a cat toying with prey. Her lips curl up into a grin as she brings that glass to her lips and sips delicately.

I hope she doesn’t toast to anything too ridiculous. Last time she had toasted—quite loudly actually—at a dinner with Carmadon and our friends to bison, cattle and their fertility. Mare had choked on her wine and spit out the rest in her mouth, ruining a very nice white table cloth while Kilorn had laughed so loud the table across from us had turned around and glared at him. Carmadon had grinned wickedly though and raised his glass with Evangeline to drink to the toast. I hope she wasn’t toasting to something like that again, that’s the last thing we need luck with right now.

           “Even if she hadn’t made us come, I would have been required to go anyway.” I tease as I kiss the top of her head. One of the glittering pins in her hair presses into my lips as I do so. I plan to take my time picking each and every one out of that beautiful cornet when we get back to our rooms tonight.

           “I would have tied you to the bed so you couldn’t.” Mare grumbles, and that brings another smile to my lips that she must register because her shoulders tense.

           “Well I would have enjoyed that very much.”

           “You know that’s not—” she sighs, giving up with refuting me. Tipping her head back to scrutinize me, she says, “I don’t see why we have to be here.”

           “Part of being an abdicated king is proving to countries still struggling with the decision that my life is actually going quite well and that the States are prospering.” I spin her away from me before pulling her back into my embrace and closer than before. She melts into me, and for a moment, I debate pulling her behind one of the massive pillars lines one side of the room. The other side is floor to ceiling windows, opened to the magnificent full moon shining on the lake separating the States and the Lakelands. It feels odd to finally be on this side of it after standing on the other bank for so long.

Mare huffs as I press another kiss to her temple, deciding to stay out in the open for a little longer. “I think we’re doing very well. Iris hasn’t tried to kill me this week, and the loosened restrictions seem to be holding up.” I murmur against her hairline when she stil refuses to smile.

           “They hold up until we leave.” She grumbles before turning her head to glare at me from the side. “The same thing happened in Piedmont.”

           “Piedmont is harder. She’s made up of separate Prince States with very stubborn men ruling over them.”

           “Are you really inferring that women are less stubborn than men?”

           “Mare Molly Barrow, do you really think I would believe that after being with you this long?” I laugh quietly and get a rapier sharp smile from her in response.

           “Do you mind if I cut in?” A delicate, accented voice asks from behind me. Mare’s face pinches in too many places for me to determine if she’s furious or surprised. I glance down at a set of delicate brown eyes that glint up at me under the lights of the ballroom. I try to ignore how my stomach drops at the sight of them. The last time I had been close enough to see those eyes, they had been looking up at me from the deck of a war ship with enough fury to shred me to pieces.

           Mare squeezes my hand tight enough that I grimace and try to extract my hand unsuccessfully.

           Iris raises a well-manicured brow at us before smirking. “I’m here to test how good of a dance partner you are Tiberias. If we are to be working together in the future, I must know if you will step on my feet or crush them often.”

           I really hate political word play. It’s one thing I do not miss. “I don’t go by that name anymore.” I end up saying while looking down at the tips of my fingers that are slowly going grey in Mare’s crushing grip. “Cal is fine.” I say as I finally manage to pry her fingers off of mine.

           “One dance, I promise Barrow.” She throws in Mare’s direction with a little pout that is far too mocking to be genuine. When Mare doesn’t say anything, only sharpen her glare, Iris says, “A dog that bites and is possessive, interesting.” Her smile hints at an inside joke they might have, but Mare is far from amused.

           “As long as you also promise not to throw me in a bay again.” I snort when Mare crosses her arms and appears on the verge of ruining any treaties Evangeline may have created for us to set foot on Lakelander earth.

           Iris’s eyes widen at my words and it looks like she doesn’t understand my reference. Something flashes across her face though and she throws her head back to cackle. When she looks back down from the ceiling, her eyes shine dangerously. “No promises on that front.” She offers her hand and I dip my head respectfully before letting her slide her fingers into my palm.

           “It’s not funny Cal.” Mare jeers near my elbow, but gets a smirk from Iris as she saunters past.

           “If he can laugh about it, then I didn’t throw him hard enough.” Iris says over her shoulder before I can apologize to Mare. She pulls me into the center of the dance floor, and most of the other dancers pull away to give us a wide berth. I’m partially grateful for it. Anything we discuss will at least be semi-private now. The music cues up, and we stap into a frame that both of us know well. She’s taller than Mare, which means I don’t have to drop my shoulder as much for her to rest her hand there. Her other hand is perhaps just as calloused as mine. I always forget that she’s technically a warrior princess, and belongs on the battlefield as much as I do.

           Our steps our quick and measured, practically perfect. It’s a little jarring at first. But we adjust well to each other, like two experienced performers. Which I suppose, we are.

           “You’re a better partner than most of the irritating men here tonight.” She sighs, breaking the silence while she waves the hand resting on my shoulder. “Certainly a better dance partner than your brother.”

           A pang of sorrow rushes from my chest to my stomach. It’s not as sharp as it used to be, but it still aches all the same. Iris must see it flash across my face because her expression softens a fraction.

“Apologies, that was crass.” She tilts her head to the side so the silky hair not tied into her updo brushes against my hand resting on her lower back. “But I’m sure you can understand that my despair doesn’t run quite as deep as your own.”  

           “I wouldn’t expect it to.” I murmur, turning my eyes away from her. Pushing Maven far from my mind, I try focus on her face when I bring my eyes back. She is very lovely, but she has the same cunning look in her eye that Maven always had. They would have made a good match—a formidable one--if he hadn’t been chasing Mare still. While she does apologize for her comment, I have a feeling it was actually a probe, a means of testing me and the waters. “Maven was always a better dancer than me though.”

           She raises a brow at my words, but thankfully doesn’t comment. She shrugs her shoulders and turns her eyes over my shoulder as we continue to move in our tiny box. The music shifts into a delicate, flowing melody and she shifts her movements in response. I suppose it’s fitting that she dances like water, with each move flowing into the next like the fountain behind us.

           “What are your thoughts on the changes in restrictions?” I ask, hoping to end the silence between us again.

           “You certainly cut to the chase unlike him, I’ll let you know that.” She shakes her head, but there is no amusement in the smile she gives me. “That’s probably for the best though, Mare Barrow does not strike me as a woman that likes to mince words.”

           “No she doesn’t.” I admit. “Which is good, because it keeps me honest.”

           “Perhaps we all need a bit of that.” Iris draws her lips into a line, and sets her eyes on Mare who has finally sat down at the table with Evangeline. While Evangeline appears to be having a good time trying to pester her, Mare hasn’t taken her eyes off of us. I wonder if she can read our lips from that far away.

           Iris sighs again. “Forgive me for asking such a personal question, but what exactly is it about her that made you and your brother trip over your own two feet like bad drunks?”

           I stiffen in surprise, and she turns a quirked brow on me when I twist my lips and reply. “I wouldn’t say—”

           “She turned the two of you into love sick puppies. Forgive me if I’m a little confused how two young men that seemed perfectly in control of their inhibitions lost them when she walked through a door—”

           “I don’t have an answer for you—”

           “--Evangeline Samos I could understand. She’s stunning, as is her lover. There are a number of other Nortan girls that I’ve seen that also are very eye catching. So why this one Red girl?”

           I almost stop dancing so the full force of my scowl can reach her. “She tried to pickpocket me when I first met her.”

           Iris blinks at me, waiting for me to elaborate or perhaps laugh at what she might think is a joke. When I don’t do either, she frowns. “You’re serious.”

           “She was unlike anyone I’d ever met.”

           “I’ll say. I don’t know many who would try and pickpocket a prince.”

           “She didn’t know I was a prince.”

           Iris’s frown deepens, before her lips twist to the side in disgust. “Never mind, I don’t want to know anymore.”

           “She made me want to be a better man.” I amend, earning her attention again. Shrugging lightly I say, “She treated me like anyone else, as if I was like everyone else. A part of me had always wanted that I suppose.”

           The music dies around us, and the dancers applaud lightly. Tilting her head to the side again, as if listening to the sound, Iris considers my words.

           “I think she did the same for Maven. Or he may have seen a kindred spirit in her. I’m not quite sure.” I shake my head, before spotting Mare as she approaches us. I give her a little smile, assuring her that everything is fine. A couple steps in her path, forcing her to find a different route and buys me and Iris more time.

           Iris turns to glance at her as well, but loses her in the crowd at the same moment that I do. “You do not regret anything?” She asks aloud.

           “No.” I answer immediately. Maybe a few years ago, I would have hesitated and tried to sort through whatever emotions that question brought up. But I haven’t been tangled in that complicated web in a long time.

           Iris nods once, then twice. “Then I suppose I like the eases in the restrictions.” She says as a flash of lilac purple near her elbow announces Mare. She appears at Iris’s side before setting her hand on my arm. I give her a small smile and take her free hand before turning back to Iris with the same smile.

           “I’m glad to hear it.”

           Nodding once more, she tilts her head respectfully. I nudge Mare lightly as I dip my head as well. Taking the hint, Mare bobs in a quick curtsey before staring openly at Iris with a confused glare when she leaves.

           “What did she say?” Mare demands as soon as the Princess of the Lakelands is out of earshot.

           “Just asked me about things. But she did mention that she didn’t plan to throw me in any bays anymore.” I smile even as Mare sends a strong enough jolt of electricity up my arm that my heart skips a beat.

           “It’s not funny, so stop joking about that.”

           “Alright that was the last time, promise.” I say as I pull my hand away to set it on my heart and hold my other hand up.

           Mare snorts, clearly uncertain, before smirking. “Swear on your colors.” She pokes at my chest to enunciate each word. I catch her finger and pull her toward me so quickly she squeaks as her feet slide across the floor.

           “I swear on my colors that it’s the last time.” I whisper as I give her the one smile I know she can’t resist. It’s my only weapon against the arsenal she commands against me. She doesn’t have to really try where I am concerned. Even when she is sleeping or simply sitting in the window box watching the snow fall outside, a part of me is crushed by her. She strikes me though, with and without her lightning by simply existing.

         Playfully batting my face away, she laughs lightly, her mood finally breaking like a storm that was about to boil over into a hurricane. When she stops struggling against my hold and simply grins up at me, I allow myself another opportunity to drink her in. Under the lights, the purple strands of her hair almost blend into the dark chocolate of her hair, and her eyes shine like glass.

         “I will never want anything but you.” I admit quietly to her. Her cheeks flush red and she blinks in surprise before cupping my cheek softly.

         “I know.” She press onto her toes to kiss the underside of my jaw before I drop my chin further to complete the kiss.

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #(((: #sorry this took so long to get out #but here is something!!!! #I miss these two losers #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #marecal #featuring Iris being a sneaky lil you know what #she knows what she's doing #also this song is one hundred percent Cal #please listen #it's amazing